In Korea with Marquis Ito

The contents and purposes of this volume may be conveniently classified under three heads; for here are statements of fact, expressions of opinion, and certain ventures into the realm of conjecture. The statements of fact are, almost without exception, made on grounds of personal observation, or on the authority of the most competent and trustworthy first-hand witnesses. For the earlier periods of the history of the relations, friendly or hostile, between Japan and Korea, these authorities are indeed no longer living, and they cannot be subjected to cross-questioning. But the choice between the truth they told and the mistakes and falsehoods of a contradictory character is in most cases not difficult to make. For events of the present generation the reader will find the statements of the witnesses quoted, and of the documents cited, to be in general unimpeachable. I believe, then, that what is claimed to be truth of fact in this book is as nearly exact and worthy of implicit confidence as it is ordinarily given to human beings to be in matters pertaining to the history of human affairs.

In expressing my own opinions as to the truth or untruth of certain contentions, and as to the merit or demerit of certain transactions, I have uniformly tried to base these opinions upon the fullest obtainable knowledge of the facts. In some cases the judgments at which I have been compelled to arrive contradict those which have been and still are widely current; in some cases they can scarcely fail to be interpreted as an impeachment of other writers who have had either a[x] narrator’s interest only in the same events or even a more substantial concernment. I have no wish to deny the apologetic character of this book. But at every point the charge of being swerved from the truth by prejudice may be met with these replies: First, very unusual opportunities were afforded the author for ascertaining the truth; and, second, in almost every case where the evidence brought forward seems insufficient there is much more of the same sort of evidence already in his possession, and still more to be had for the asking. But in these days one must limit the size of such undertakings. Few readers wish to wade through a long stretch of shoals in order to reach the firm ground of historical verity.

As to the ventures at conjecture which are sparingly put forth, let them be rated at their seeming worth, after the facts have been carefully studied and the opinions weighed, which have called out these ventures. They are confessedly only entitled to a claim for a certain degree, higher or lower, of probability. The status of all things in the Far East—and for the matter of that, all over the civilized world—is just now so unstable and loaded with uncertainties that no human insight can penetrate to the centre of the forces at work, and no human foresight can look far into the future.

The division of the book into two parts may seem at first sight to injure its unity. Such a division has for its result, as a matter of course, a somewhat abrupt change in the character of the material employed and in the style of its handling. The First Part is a narrative of personal observations and experiences. It gives the results, however, of a serious study of a complicated situation; and it pronounces more or less confident judgments upon a number of subordinate questions involved in the general problem of establishing satisfactory relations between two nations which are inseparably bound together—physically, socially, politically—whether for the[xi] weal or for the woe of both. In the Second Part the attempt is made to submit these judgments to the tests of history. But what is history? Of no other civilized country than Korea is the truth of the cynical saying more obvious that much of what has been written as history is lies, and that most of real history is unwritten. All of which has tended to make the writer duly appreciate the unspeakable advantage of having access to authentic information which, for diplomatic and other sufficient reasons, has not hitherto been made public.

The underlying literary and logical unity which binds together the two seemingly diverse Parts of the one book is made clear by stating in general terms the problem upon which it aims to throw light. This problem concerns the relations to be established between Japan and Korea—a question which has for centuries been proposed in various imperative and even affective ways to both these nations. It is also a question which has several times disturbed greatly the entire Orient, and the recent phases of which have come near to upsetting the expectations and more deliberate plans of the entire civilized world. To lay the foundations, under greatly and suddenly changed conditions, of a satisfactory and permanent peace, one of the greatest statesmen of the Orient is giving—with all his mind and heart—the later years of his eventful life. I hope that this book may make its readers know somewhat better what the problem has been and is; and what Prince Ito, as Japanese Resident-General in Korea, is trying to accomplish for its solution.

It remains for the Preface only to acknowledge the author’s obligations. These are so special to one person—namely, Mr. D. W. Stevens, who has been for some time official “Adviser to the Korean Council of State and Counsellor to the Resident-General”—that without his generous and painstaking assistance in varied ways the Second Part of the book[xii] could never have appeared in its present form. It is hoped that this general acknowledgment will serve to cover many cases where Mr. Stevens’ name is not especially mentioned in connection with the text. Grateful acknowledgment is also made to Mr. Furuya, the private secretary of the Resident-General, for his painstaking translation from the original Japanese or Chinese official documents; to Mr. M. Zumoto, editor of the Seoul Press, for varied information on many subjects; and to Dr. George Heber Jones for facts and suggestions imparted in conversation and embodied in writings of his. My obligations to the Resident-General himself, for the perfectly untrammelled and unprejudiced opportunity, with its complete freedom to ask all manner of questions, which his invitation afforded, are, I trust, sufficiently emphasized in the title of the book. Other debts to writers upon any part of the field are acknowledged in their proper connections.

It was in early August of 1906 that I left New Haven for a third visit to Japan. Travelling by the way of the Great Lakes through Duluth and St. Paul, after a stay of two weeks in Seattle, we took the Japanese ship Aki Maru for Yokohama, where we arrived just before the port was closed for the night of September 20. Since this ship was making its first trip after being released from transport service in conveying the Japanese troops home from Manchuria, and was manned by officers who had personal experiences of the war to narrate, the voyage was one of uncommon interest. Captain Yagi had been in command of the transport ship Kinshu Maru when it was sunk by the Russians, off the northeastern coast of Korea. He had then been carried to Vladivostok, and subsequently to Russia, where he remained in prison until the end of the war. Among the various narratives to which I listened with interest were the two following; they are repeated here because they illustrate the code of honor whose spirit so generally pervaded the army and navy of Japan during their contest with their formidable enemy. It is in reliance on the triumph of this code that those who know the nation best are hopeful of its ability to overcome the difficulties[2] which are being encountered in the effort to establish a condition favorable to safety, peace, and prosperity by a Japanese Protectorate over Korea.

At Vladivostok the American Consul pressed upon Captain Yagi a sum of money sufficient to provide a more suitable supply of food during his journey by rail to Russia. This kindly offer was respectfully declined on the sentimental ground that, as an officer of Japan, he could not honorably receive from a stranger a loan which it was altogether likely he would never be able to repay. But when still further urged, although he continued to decline the money, he begged only the Consul’s card, “lest he might himself forget the name or die,” and so his Government would be unable to acknowledge the kindness shown to one of its officers. The card was given, sent to Tokyo, and—as the Captain supposed—the Consul was “thanked officially.” The first officer, an Englishman, who had been in the service of Japan on the Aki Maru, while it was used for transporting troops to Manchuria and prisoners on its return, told this equally significant story. His ship had brought to Japan as prisoner the Russian officer second in command at the battle of Nan-san. Having been wounded in the foot, the Russian was, after his capture, carried for a long distance by Japanese soldiers, to whom, when they reached the hospital tent, he offered a $20 gold-piece. But they all refused to receive money from a wounded foe. “If it had been Russian soldiers,” said this officer of his own countrymen, “they would not only have taken this money but would have gone through my pockets besides.”

Before leaving home only two official invitations had been received, namely, to lecture on Education before the teachers in the Tokyo branch of the Imperial Educational Society; and to give a course in the Imperial University of Kyoto, on a topic which it was afterward decided should be the “Philosophy of Religion.” This university was to open in the following[3] autumn a Department of Philosophy (such a forward movement having been delayed by the war with Russia). Almost immediately on our arrival, a multitude of requests for courses of lectures and public addresses came to the committee in charge of the arrangements, with the result that the six months from October 1, 1906, to April 1, 1907, were crowded full of interesting and enjoyable work. In the intervals of work, however, there was opportunity left for much valuable social intercourse and for meeting with men like Togo, Oyama, Noghi, and others in military and business, as well as educational circles, whose names and deeds are well known all over the civilized world. But it is not the narrative of these six months which is before us at the present time, although doubtless they had a somewhat important influence in securing the opportunity and providing the preparation for the subsequent visit to Korea.

The thought of seeing something of the “Hermit Kingdom” (a title, by the way, which is no longer appropriate) had been in our minds before leaving America, only as a somewhat remote possibility. Not long after our arrival in Japan the hint was several times given by an intimate friend, who is also in the confidence of Marquis Ito, that the latter intended, on his return in mid-winter from Seoul, to invite us to be his guests in his Korean residence. It was not, however, until the afternoon of December 5 that the invitation was first received. This was at the garden-party given by Marquis Nabeshima on his sixty-first birthday. It should be explained that every Japanese is born under one of the twelve signs—corresponding to our signs of the Zodiac. When five of these periods have been completed the total of sixty years corresponds with the end of six periods of ten years each—a reckoning which is, I believe, of Chinese origin. The fortunate man, therefore, may be said to begin life over again; and presents such as are ordinarily appropriate only to childhood[4] are entirely in order on such a festal occasion. While walking in the beautiful garden, which is of Japanese style but much modified by Italian ideals, the private secretary of Marquis Ito, Mr. Furuya, came to us and announced that his chief, who had recently returned from Seoul to Japan, was near and wished to see me. After an exchange of friendly greetings almost immediately the Marquis said: “I am expecting to see you in my own land, which is now Korea”; and when I jestingly asked, “But is it safe to be in Korea?” (implying some fear of a Russian invasion under his protectorate) he shook his fist playfully in the air and answered: “But I will protect you.” To this he added, pointing to his sword: “You see, I am half-military now.” The significance of the last remark will be the better understood when it is remembered that from the days of his young manhood to the present hour, Ito has always stood for the peaceful policy and the cultivation of friendly relations between Japan and all the rest of the world. For this reason he has never been the favorite of the military party; and he is to-day opposed in his administration of Korean affairs by those who would apply to them the mailed hand of punishment and suppression rather than hold out the friendly but firm hand of guidance and help.

Even after this interview the real purpose of the invitation to visit Korea was not evident. A week later, however, it was disclosed by a visit from Mr. Yamada of the Japan Times, who came from Marquis Ito to present his request more fully and to arrange for a subsequent extended conference upon the subject. I was then informed, in a general way, how it was thought by the Resident-General I might be of help to him and to Japan in solving the difficult problem of furthering for the Koreans themselves the benefits which the existing relations of the two countries made it desirable for both to secure. Complaints of various sorts were constantly being made, not only against individual Japanese,[5] but also against the Japanese administration, as unjust and oppressive to the Koreans, and as selfish and exclusive toward other foreigners than its own countrymen. Especially had such complaints of late been propagated by American missionaries, either directly by letters and newspaper articles, or more indirectly by tales told to travellers who, since they were only passing a few days in Korea, had neither desire nor opportunity to investigate their accuracy. In this way, exaggerations and falsehoods were spread abroad as freely as one-sided or half-truths. In the office of Resident-General the Marquis greatly desired to be absolutely just and fair, and to prevent the mistakes, so harmful both to Korea and to Japan, which followed the Japanese occupation of Korea at the close of the Chino-Japan war. But it was difficult, and in most cases impossible, for him even to find out what the complaints were; they came to the public ear in America and England before he was able to get any indication of their existence even. And when his attention was called to them in this roundabout fashion, further difficulties, almost insuperable, intervened between him and the authors of these complaints; for in most cases it turned out that the foreign plaintiffs had no first-hand information regarding the truth of the Korean stories. They would not themselves take the pains to investigate the complaints, much less would they go to the trouble to bring the attention of the Resident-General to the matters complained of in order that he might use his magisterial authority to remedy them. In respect to these, and certain other difficulties, Marquis Ito thought that I might assist his administration if I would spend some time upon the ground as his guest.

The nature of this invitation put upon me the responsibility of answering two questions which were by no means altogether easy of solution; and on which it was, from their very nature, impossible to get much trustworthy advice. The[6] first of these concerned my own fitness for so delicate and difficult but altogether unaccustomed work. The second raised the doubt whether I could in this way be more useful to Japan and to humanity than by carrying out the original plan of spending the spring months lecturing in Kiushu. After consulting with the few friends to whom I could properly mention the subject, and reflecting that the judgment of His Imperial Majesty, with whom Marquis Ito would doubtless confer, as well as of the Resident-General himself, might fairly be considered conclusive, I accepted the invitation; but it was with mingled feelings of pleasure and of somewhat painful hesitation as to how I should be able to succeed.

The illness of Marquis Ito which, though not serious, compelled him to retire from the exciting life of the capital city to the seaside, and then to the hills, prevented my meeting him before I left Tokyo for Kyoto to fulfil my engagements in the latter city. But, by correspondence with a friend, I was kept informed of the Marquis’ plans for his return to Korea, and thus could govern my engagements so as to be in the vicinity of some point on his route thither, at which the meeting with him might take place.

The expected conference followed immediately after our return from one of the most delightful of the many gratifying experiences which came to us during our year in Japan. We had taken a trip to the village of Hiro Mura, where formerly lived Hamaguchi Goryo, the benevolent patron of his village, whose act of self-sacrifice in burning his rice straw in order to guide the bewildered villagers to a place of safety when they were being overwhelmed by a tidal wave in the darkness of midnight, has been made the theme of one of Lafcadio Hearn’s interesting tales. Mr. Hearn, it appears, had never visited the locality; and, indeed, we were assured that we were the first foreigners who had ever been seen in the village streets. A former pupil of mine is at the head of a flourishing[7] school patronized by the Hamaguchi family; and having accepted his invitation, in the name of the entire region, to visit them and speak to the school and to the teachers of the Prefecture, the cordial greeting, hospitable entertainment, and the surpassingly beautiful scenery, afforded a rich reward for the three or four days of time required. For, as to the scenery, not the drive around the Bay of Naples or along the Bosphorus excels in natural beauty the jinrikisha ride that surmounts the cliffs, or clings to their sides, above the bay of Shimidzu (“Clear Water”); while for a certain picturesqueness of human interest it surpasses them both. On the way back to Wakayama—for Hiro Mura is more than twenty miles from the nearest railway station—three men to each jinrikisha, running with scarcely a pause and at a rate that would have gained credit for any horse as a fairly good roadster, brought us to the well-situated tea-house at Waka-no-ura. For centuries the most celebrated of Japanese poets have sung the praises of the scenery of this region—the boats with the women gathering seaweed at low tide, the fishermen in the offing, the storks standing on one leg in the water or flying above the rushes of the salt marsh. Here we were met for tiffin by the Governor of the Prefecture and the mayor of the city, and immediately after escorted to the city hall of Wakayama, where an audience of some eight hundred, officials and teachers, had already assembled. While in the waiting-room of this hall, a telegram from Mr. Yokoi was handed to me, announcing that Marquis Ito had already left Oiso and would reach Kyoto that very evening and arrange to see me the next day.

It was now necessary to change the plan of sight-seeing in the interesting castle-town of Wakayama for an immediate return to Kyoto. Thus we were taken directly from the Hall to the railway station and, on reaching Osaka, hurried across the city in time to catch an evening train; an hour[8] later we found our boys waiting, with their jinrikishas, at the station in Kyoto. From the hotel in Kyoto I sent word at once to Marquis Ito of our arrival and placed myself at his command for the long-deferred interview. The messenger brought back an invitation for luncheon at one o’clock of the next day.

When we reached the “Kyoto Hotel,” at the time appointed we were ushered into the room where Marquis Ito, his aide-de-camp, General Murata, his attending physician, his secretary, and four guests besides ourselves, were already gathered. After leaving the luncheon table, we had scarcely entered the parlor when the Marquis’ secretary said: “The Marquis would like to see you in his room.” I followed to the private parlor, from which the two servants, who were laughing and chatting before the open fire, were dismissed by a wave of the hand, and pointing me to a chair and seating himself, the Marquis began immediately upon the matters for conference about which the interview had been arranged.

His Excellency spoke very slowly but with great distinctness and earnestness; this is, indeed, his habitual manner of speech whether using English or his native language. The manner of speech is characteristic of the mental habit, and the established principles of action. In the very first place he wished it to be made clear that he had no detailed directions, or even suggestions, to offer. I was to feel quite independent as to my plans and movements in co-operating with him to raise out of their present, and indeed historical, low condition the unfortunate Koreans. In all matters affecting the home policy of his government as Resident-General, he was now a Korean himself; he was primarily interested in the welfare, educationally and economically, of these thirteen or fourteen millions of wretched people who had been so long and so badly misgoverned. In their wish to remain independent he sympathized with them. The wish was natural and proper;[9] indeed, one would be compelled to think less highly of them, if they did not have and show this wish. As to foreign relations, and as to those Koreans who were plotting with foreigners against the Japanese, his attitude was of necessity entirely different. He was against these selfish intrigues; he was pledged to this attitude of opposition by loyalty to his own Emperor, to his own country, and, indeed, to the best good fortune for Korea itself. Japan was henceforth bound to protect herself and the Koreans against the evil influence and domination of foreign nations who cared only to exploit the country in their own selfish interests or to the injury of the Japanese. When his own countrymen took part in such selfish schemes, he was against them, too.

Again and again did the Resident-General affirm that the helping of Korea was on his conscience and on his heart; that he cared nothing for criticism or opposition, if only he could bring about this desirable result of good to the Koreans themselves. He then went on to say that diplomatic negotiations between Japan and both Russia and France were so far advanced that a virtual entente cordiale had already been reached. Treaties, formally concluded, would soon, he hoped and believed, secure definite terms for the continuance of peaceful relations. Japan had already received from Russia proposals for such a permanent arrangement; the reply of Japan was so near a rapprochement to the proposals of Russia as to encourage the judgment that actual agreement on the terms of a treaty could not be far away. The situation, indeed, was now such that Russia had invited Japan to make counter proposals. The present Foreign Minister of Russia the Marquis regarded as one of his most trusted friends; the Russian Minister was ready, in the name of the Czar, to affirm his Government’s willingness to abandon the aggressive policy toward Korea and Manchuria, in case Japan would, on her part, pledge herself to be content with her present[10] possessions. The status quo was, then, to be the basis of the new treaties. Great Britain, as Japan’s ally, was not only ready for this, but was approaching Russia with a view to a settlement of the questions in controversy between the two nations, in regard to Persia, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, where they had common interests. France would, as a nation on good terms with both Great Britain and Russia, and as herself the friend of peace, gladly agree. He was, then, hopeful that in the near future a permanent basis of peace for the whole Orient might be secured by concurrence of the four great nations most immediately interested.

To these disclosures of his plans and hopes, so frankly and fully made as to excite my surprise, Marquis Ito then added the wish that I should at this time, or subsequently while on the ground, ask of him any questions whatever, information on which might guide in forming a correct judgment as to the situation there, or assist in the effort toward the improvement educationally, industrially, or morally, of the Koreans themselves. In reply I expressed my satisfaction at the confidences which His Excellency had given me, and my hearty sympathy with his plans for the peaceful development of Korea. Nothing, it seemed to me, could be more important in the interests of humanity than to have the strife of foreign nations for a selfish supremacy in the Far East come to a speedy end. But the perfect freedom of inquiry and action allowed to me was in some sort an embarrassment. It would have been easier to have had a definite work assigned, and a definite method prescribed. However, I should do the best that my inexperience in such matters made possible, in order to justify his favorable judgment.

It was my intention at first to prepare for the work in Korea by much reading of books. But the professional and social demands made upon both time and strength, to the very last hour of our stay in Japan, prevented the carrying out of[11] this intention. When, later on, it became possible to read what had previously been published, I discovered that the deprivation was no hindrance, but perhaps a positive advantage, to the end of success in my task. A story of recent experiences of Korean intrigue which had already been reported to me in detail was of more practical value than the reading of many learned treatises. The story was as follows: Among the several representatives of American Christian and benevolent enterprises who have recently visited that country, for the size of his audiences and the warmth of his greeting, one had been particularly distinguished. At his first public address, some four thousand persons, men and boys (for the Korean women are never seen at such gatherings) had attempted to crowd into “Independence Hall.” Of these, however, nine-tenths came with the vague feeling that it is somehow for the political interest of Koreans to seem friendly to citizens of foreign Christian countries—especially of the United States—in order to secure help for themselves in an appeal to interfere with the Japanese administration. In this case the speaker was at first supposed to have great political influence. But the audience, seeing that the subjects of address were religious rather than political, fell off greatly on the second occasion. Meanwhile, some of the Korean officials, in order to win credit for themselves for procuring the audience, had falsely reported that the Korean Emperor wished to see this distinguished representative from America. But when they learned that application for the audience had been duly made, through the proper Japanese official, they came around again and, with many salaams and circuitous approaches, expressed the regrets of His Majesty that, being indisposed, he was unable to grant the audience which had been applied for. At the very time of this second falsehood, the proper official was in the act of making out the permit to enter the palace. The audience came off. And while the American[12] guest was in the waiting-room, the Minister of the Household, watching his chance to escape observation, with his hand upon his heart, appealed to the distinguished American for his nation’s sympathy against the oppression of the Japanese. During the two months of my own experience with the ways of the Koreans, all this, and much more of the same sort, was abundantly and frequently illustrated. And, indeed, no small portion of the recent movement toward Christianity is more a political than a religious affair. But of this I shall speak in detail later on.

It was the understanding with Marquis Ito at the interview in Kyoto that he should have me informed at Nagasaki, at some time between March 20th and 24th, when he desired us to come to Seoul; and that arrangements should then be made for meeting our Japanese escort at Shimonoseki. On returning to the hotel parlor the Marquis apologized to Mrs. Ladd for keeping her husband away so long, and remarked, playfully, that the diplomatic part of the conference was not to be communicated even to her, until its expectations had become matters of history.

Three days later we started for Nagasaki, where I was to spend somewhat more than a week lecturing to the teachers of the Prefecture, and to the pupils of the Higher Commercial School. As we crossed the straits to Moji, the sun rose gloriously over the mountains and set the sea, the shore, and the ships in the two harbors aglow with its vitalizing fire. The police officer assigned to guard his country’s guests, pointed out to us the battleship waiting to take the Resident-General to his difficult and unappreciated work in Korea; and nearer the other side of the channel we noted with pleasure the Aki Maru, on which six months before we had crossed the Northern Pacific.

It had been in my plans, even before reaching Japan, to spend a month or two in Kiushu, a part of the Empire which[13] is in some respects most interesting, and which I had never visited before. And, indeed, in reliance on a telegram from Tokyo which read: “Fix your own date, telegraph Zumoto” (the gentleman who was to accompany us from Shimonoseki), “Seoul,” arrangements had already been completed for lectures at Fukuoka, and had been begun for a short course also at Kumamoto. But the very next day after these instructions had been followed, a telegram came from Mr. Zumoto himself, who was already waiting at Shimonoseki to accompany us to Seoul, inquiring when we could start, and adding that “the Marquis hoped it would be at once.” All engagements besides the one at Nagasaki were therefore promptly cancelled. On the evening of March 24th, Mr. Akai, who had been our kindly escort in behalf of the friends at Nagasaki, put us into the hands of our escort to Korea, at the station in Moji.

Since the steamer for Fusan did not start until the following evening, we had the daylight hours to renew our acquaintance with Shimonoseki. The historical connections which this region has had with our distinguished host made the time here all the more vividly interesting. At this place, as an obscure young man, Ito had risked his life in the interests of progress by way of peace; and here, too, as the Commissioner of his Emperor, the now celebrated Marquis had concluded the treaty with China through her Commissioner, Li Hung Chang. But what need be said about the story of these enterprises belongs more properly with the biography of the man. At about 8.30 o’clock in the evening of March 25th the harbor launch, with the chief of the harbor police in charge, conveyed the party to the ship Iki Maru. The evening was lovely; bright moonlight, mild breeze, and moderate temperature. After tea, at about eleven, we “turned in” to pass a comfortable night in a well-warmed and well-ventilated cabin.

I have dwelt with what might otherwise seem unnecessary detail upon my invitation to Korea, because it throws needed light upon the nature and opportunity of this visit, as well as upon the character of the man who gave the invitation, and of the administration of which he is the guiding mind and the inspiring spirit. I was to be entirely independent, absolutely free from all orders or even suggestions, to form an opinion as to the sincerity and wisdom of the present Japanese administration, as to the character and needs of the Korean public, and as to the Korean Court. The fullest confidential information on all points was to be freely put at my disposal; but the purpose of the visit was to be in full accord with that of the Residency-General—namely, to help the Koreans, and to convince all reasonable foreigners of the intention to deal justly with them. Suggestions as to any possible improvements were earnestly requested. For I hesitate to say that His Excellency, with a sincerity which could not be doubted, asked that I should advise him whenever I thought best. So far as this understanding properly extends, the unmerited title of “Unofficial Adviser to the Resident-General,” bestowed by some of the foreign and native papers, was not wholly misplaced. But the term is more creditable to the sincerity of Marquis Ito than to my own fitness for any such title. “Adviser,” in any strictly official or political meaning of the term, is a word altogether inappropriate to describe our relations at any time.

It was soon after seven on the morning of Tuesday, March 26, 1907, that we had our first sight of Chosen, “The Land of Morning Calm.” The day was superb, fully bearing out the high praise which is almost universally bestowed upon the Korean weather in Spring—the sunshine bright and genial, the air clear and stimulating like wine. Tsushima, the island which for centuries has acted as a sort of bridge between the two countries, was fading in the distance on our port stern. The wardens of Tsushima, under the Tokugawa Shogunate and, as well, much earlier, had a sort of monopoly of the trade with southern Korea. From Tsushima, several centuries ago, came the trees which make conspicuous the one thickly wooded hill in Fusan, now the only public park in the whole country. In front rose the coast; its mountains denuded of trees and rather unsightly when seen nearer at hand, but at a distance, under such a sky, strikingly beautiful for their varied richness of strong coloring. The town of Fusan, as we approached it, had a comfortable look, with its Japanese buildings, many of them obviously new, nestled about the pine-covered hill which has already been noticed as its public park.

From the steamer’s deck our companion pointed out the eminence on which, according to the narrative written by a contemporary in Chinese (the book has never been translated and copies of the original are rare), the Korean Governor[16] of the District, when hunting in the early morning more than three centuries ago, looked out to sea and to his amazement saw myriads of foreign-looking boats filled with armed men approaching the bay. It was the army sent by Hideyoshi for the invasion of the peninsula. The Korean magistrate hastened to his official residence in the town, but scarcely had he arrived when the Japanese forces were upon him and had taken possession of everything. In twenty-one days the invaders were in Seoul. But according to the universal custom of the country when invaded, from whatever quarter and by whomsoever, the cowardly court—a motley horde of king, concubines, eunuchs, sorcerers, and idle officials—had fled; then a Korean mob burned and sacked the deserted palace and did what well could be done toward desolating the city. For seven years the Japanese held Southern Korea, even after their navy had been destroyed, so as to make it impossible to transport reinforcements sufficient to meet the combined forces of the Chinese and the Koreans. It was the fear of a similar experience which, centuries later, made them so careful first to incapacitate the Russian navy as a matter of supreme importance. On another low hill to the right, our attention was directed to the remnants of one of the forts built at the time by the invading Japanese; and further inland, the train ran near to traces of the wall which they erected for the defence of their last hold upon the conquered country. Even then “the people hated them with a hatred which is the legacy of centuries; but could not allege anything against them, admitting that they paid for all they got, molested no one, and were seldom seen outside the yamen gates.”

On the wharf at Fusan there were waiting to welcome us the local Resident, the manager of the Fusan-Seoul Railway, and other Japanese officials—all fine-looking men with an alert air and gentlemanly bearing. The official launch conveyed[17] us to the landing near the railway station, which is now some distance up the bay, but which will soon be brought down to the new wharf that is in process of building, in such good time that we had an hour and a half to spend before leaving for Seoul. Most of this time was improved in visiting a Korean school on the hillside just above. We were not, however, to see this educational institution at work, but only the empty school-rooms and several of the Korean and Japanese teachers. For the one hundred and seventy children of this school, clothed in holiday garments of various shades in green, pink, carmine, purple, yellow, and a few in white or black, were just starting for the station to give a “send-off” to Prince Eui Wha. This Prince is the second living son of the Korean Emperor and, in the event of the death or declared incapacity of the Crown Prince, the legitimate heir to the throne. There was much blowing of small trumpets and many unsuccessful attempts on the part of the teachers to get and keep the line in order, as the brilliantly colored procession moved down the hill.

The teachers who remained behind showed me courteously over the school-rooms and interpreted the “curriculum” of the school which had been posted for my benefit in one of the rooms. I give it below as a good example of the kind of instruction which is afforded in the best of the primary grades of the Korean school system as fostered by the Japanese:

It will appear that this scheme of education is based upon a Chinese model, largely modified to meet modern requirements and, in the upper classes, designed to fit those who are able to continue in school for the lower grades of the Korean official appointments.

On returning to the station we found the children in line on one side of the road and on the other a row of Korean men, some in clean and some in dirty-white clothing, waiting for the coming of the Prince. The difference between the mildly disorderly and unenthusiastic behavior of the Korean crowd and the precise and alert enthusiasm of the Japanese on similar occasions was significant. The Japanese policemen treated all the people, especially the children, with conspicuous gentleness. The Prince, who arrived at last in a jinrikisha and took the reserved carriage just back of the one reserved for us, had a languid and somewhat blasé air; but he bowed politely and removed his hat for an instant as he passed by.

Before the train left the station a number of the principal civil officers of Japanese Fusan appeared to bid us a good journey; and so we entered Korea as we had left Japan, reminded that we were among friends and should feel at home. Indeed, at every important station the cards of the leading officials, who had been informed of the arrival of his guests from the office of the Resident-General at Seoul, were handed in; and this was followed by hand-shaking and the interchange of salutations.

The country through which the train passed during the entire day was very monotonous—or perhaps “repetitious” is the better descriptive word. Each mile, while in itself interesting and possessed of a certain beauty due to the rich coloring of the denuded rock of the mountains and of the sand of the valleys, which are deprived of their natural green covering by the neglect to bar out the summer floods, was very like every other of the nearly three hundred miles between Fusan and Seoul. Here, as everywhere in Korea, there was an almost complete absence of any special interests, either natural or human, such as crowd the hills and valleys of Japan. Of roads there appeared to be nothing worthy of the name—only rough and tortuous paths, in parts difficult for the Korean pony or even for the pedestrian to traverse. No considerable evidences of any other industry than the unenlightened and unimproved native forms of agriculture were visible on purely Korean territory. But at Taiden—about 170 miles from Fusan and 106 from Seoul—where the car of the Prince was switched off, and where he remained overnight in order that he might arrive at the Capital in the daylight, something better appeared. This city is situated on a mountainous plateau and is surrounded by extensive rice-fields, some of which, we were told, belong to the son of Marquis Nabeshima, to Count Kabayama, and to other Japanese. In spots, the number of which is increasing, all over Southern Korea, Japanese small farmers are giving object-lessons in improved agriculture; and grouped around all the stations of the railway, the neat houses and tidy gardens of the same immigrants are teaching the natives to aspire after better homes. Our escort believes that the process of amalgamation, which has already begun, will in time settle all race differences, at least in this part of the country.

At ten o’clock our train arrived at the South-Gate station[20] of Seoul, where we were met by General Murata, Marquis Ito’s aide-de-camp, Mr. Miura, the Seoul Resident, Mr. Ichihara, manager of the Japanese banks established in Korea, a friend of years’ standing, and others, both gentlemen and ladies. The dimly lighted streets through which the jinrikishas passed afforded no glimpses, even, into the character of the city where were to be spent somewhat more than two exceedingly interesting and rather exciting months. But less than an hour later we were lodged in comfortable quarters at Miss Sontag’s house, and were having a first experience of the almost alarming stillness of a Korean night. Even in the midst of a multitude of more than two hundred thousand souls, the occasional bark of a dog and the unceasing rat-tat of the ironing-sticks of some diligent housewife, getting her lord’s clothing of a dazzling whiteness for next day’s parade, are the only sounds that are sure to strike the ear and soothe to sleep brains which must be prevented from working on things inward, if they sleep soundly at all. But this is the place to speak in well-merited praise of the unwearied kindness and generosity of our hostess. Miss Sontag not only makes the physical comforts of those visiting Seoul, who are fortunate enough to be her guests, far different from what they could be without her friendly help, but is also able to afford much insight into Korean customs, of which her experience has been most intimate and intelligently derived.

With the morning light of March 27th began first observations of the physical conditions and more obvious social peculiarities of Seoul—the place which has been fitly styled “an encyclopædia of most of the features of Korean so-called city life.” It is impossible to describe Seoul, however, in any such fashion as to satisfy the conflicting opinions of all—whether transient foreign observer or old-time resident. The former will base his estimate upon the particular aspects[21] or incidents concerning which his missionary or diplomatic friend has given him presumably, but by no means always actually, trustworthy information; or upon what his own uninstructed eye and untrained ear may happen to see and hear; while the more permanent indweller in Seoul is pretty sure to conceive of it, and of its inhabitants, according to the success or the failure of his schemes for promoting his own commercial, political, or religious interests. This difference is apt to become emphatic, whenever any of the patent relations of the two peoples chiefly interested, the Koreans and the Japanese, are directly or even more remotely concerned. The point of view taken for comparison also determines much. Approached from Peking or from any one of scores of places in China, Seoul seems no filthier than the visitor’s accustomed surroundings have been. But he who comes from Old or New England, or from Japan, will observe many things, greatly to his disgust. The missionary who compares his own method in conducting a prayer-meeting with that pursued by the guard in clearing the way at the railway station, or with that to which the policeman or the jinrikisha-runner on the street is compelled by the crowd of idle and stately stepping pedestrians, will doubtless complain of the rudeness shown to the Koreans by the invading Japanese. And if he is disposed to overlook the conduct of the roughs in San Francisco, or to minimize the accounts of the behavior of American soldiers in the Philippines, or has forgotten his own experiences at the Brooklyn Bridge, he may send home letters deprecating the inferior civilization of the Far East. On the other hand, he who knows the practice of Korean robbers, official and unofficial, toward their own countrymen, or who recalls the sight of a Korean mob tearing their victim limb from limb, or who credits the reports of the unutterable cruelties that have for centuries gone on behind the palace walls, will, of course, take a widely divergent point[22] of view. But let us—laying aside prejudice—glance at the externals of the capital city of Korea, as they appeared during the months of April and May, 1907.

The word Seoul,[1] coined by the Shilla Kingdom in Southeastern Korea and originally pronounced So-ra-pul, means “national capital”; and Hanyang (“Sun of the Han”), the real name of the present capital, is only one of a succession of “Seouls,” of which Song-do and Pyeng-yang were the most notable. To the imagination of the ignorant populace of Korea, who can have no conception of what real civic beauty and decency are in these modern days, and who are accustomed to express themselves with Oriental hyperbole, Hanyang is the “Observation of all Nations,” “the King’s city in the clouds,” “a city that spirits regard and ghosts conceal”; and to be hailed as the “Coiled Dragon and the Crouching Tiger.” When the town came down from the mountain retreat of Puk Han (to be described later) and spread over the plain in order to utilize the Han River, it took the river’s name; but it was only some five hundred and twenty years ago made “Seoul” by the founder of the present dynasty selecting it as his capital city.

The situation of the chief city of modern Korea becomes more and more impressive and, in every important respect, satisfactory, the greater the frequency of one’s reflective observation from any one of numerous favorable points of view. There is no natural reason why, under the governmental reforms and material improvements which are now being put into effect, Seoul should not become as healthy, prosperous, and beautiful a place of residence as can be shown anywhere in the Far East. While its lower level is only some 120 feet above tide-water, and within easy reach of the sea by[23] the river, the city is, with the exception of the side which opens toward and stretches down to this waterway, completely surrounded by mountains. On the north these guardian peaks rise to the height of 2,500 feet, from the tops of which magnificent views can be obtained, not only of the town nestled at their feet but of the surrounding land and of the ocean, far away. It is not necessary, however, to climb so high in order to discover the geographical peculiarities of Seoul. “To secure the best view of the city and its surroundings,” says Dr. Jones, “one should ascend the lower slopes of Nam-san” (a mountain almost wholly within the walls) “on a bright sunny day in Spring. Taking a position on one of the many spurs jutting out from this mountain a really notable scene greets the eye. The stone screen of mountains enclosing the city begins at the left, with Signal Peak distinguished by a lone pine-tree on its top. In former years there was a beacon fire-station here, which formed one of the termini of the long line of fire-stations that in pre-telegraph days signalled to the authorities the weal or woe of the people.”

Attention should again be called—at least for all lovers of natural beauty—to the intensity and changeable character of the colors of the surrounding mountains and hills, and of the city enclosed by them in its plain, or in places where a few houses, mostly foreign, climb their sides. These colors are often very intense; but they change in a remarkable way, according to the brilliancy and direction of the sunlight, and the varying mixtures of sunshine and shadow. From such a point of view, the city itself, which is for the most part mean and filthy when seen from the streets, appears as a sort of grayish carpet, with dark-green spots made by the pines, for the plain beneath one’s feet. As has already been indicated, the hillsides, both within and around the walls, are uninhabited. They are devoted—and thus wasted—to the[24] mounds that cover the long-forgotten dead. By calculation, upon a basis of counting, it is estimated that one of these burial grounds in the vicinity of Seoul has no fewer than 750,000 of these graves. It is neither reverence nor any other worthy feeling, however, which is the chief factor in fostering a custom so expensive of comfort to the living; it is superstitious fear, akin to that spirit-worship, which is largely devil-worship, and which is really the only effective religion of the non-Christian Korean people. Foreign residents upon the hillsides find it difficult to keep their Korean servants during the night, so dominated are they by their fear. In this respect, as well as others, there is an important difference between so-called ancestor-worship, as in Korea, and ancestor-worship in Japan.

The most obvious thing of interest in Seoul is the city wall. Its construction was begun early in 1396, four years after the present dynasty came to the throne; it was finished in about nine months by the forced labor of men aggregating in number 198,000. According to the legendary account, the course of the wall was marked out by a Buddhist monk, who had the help of a miraculous fall of snow that indicated the line which should be taken in order to avoid a dangerous mixture of the “tiger” influence and the “dragon” influence. To this day the Koreans, like the Chinese, whose pernicious domination they have followed in this as in many other respects, are firm believers in geomancy. The fact is, however, that the wall surrounding Seoul wanders, without any assignable reason, some twelve miles, as recent surveys have settled the long dispute about its length, over hills and along valleys, enclosing a vast amount of uninhabitable as well as inhabited space. It is built of partially dressed stone, with large blocks laid lengthwise at the base, and the superstructure formed of layers of smaller stone—the whole surmounted by battlements about five feet high and pierced with loop-holes for archery[25] adapted to the varying distances of an approaching foe. In height it ranges from twenty to forty feet; it is banked by an embankment of earth from twelve to fifteen feet thick. Various attempts have been made at patching up this decaying structure, but it can never have had the solidity and impregnability against attack by the methods of mediæval warfare which were given to fortifications of the same era in Japan. Moreover, the Korean defenders of the wall customarily ran away as the foe approached; and this the Japanese seldom or never did. Thus Seoul was easily captured by the warriors of Hideyoshi in 1592, and nearly a half century later by a Manchu invading army. The wall is, of course, useless for purposes of defence against modern warfare; and its continuance in existence, at least in large part, depends upon the length of time during which the sentiment of pride triumphs over more utilitarian considerations.

It is the Gates of Seoul which emphasize the visitor’s interest in the city wall and which give most of character to its picturesque features. In themselves, they are mere “tunnels pierced in the wall”; but they are rendered architecturally interesting by the wide-spreading eaves and graceful curvature and, in some cases, striking ornamentation of their roofs. They are, in all, eight in number, one of which is the “concealed.” They bear the names of the points of the compass—South, Little West, West, Northwest, East, Little East, and East Water; this is not, however, because they face true to these points, but because in the main they form the principal avenues of communication between the inside of the wall and the outlying regions situated in these general directions. Each of the gates has, besides, another name characterized by the customary Korean hyperbole. There are, for example, the “Gate of Exalted Ceremony,” the “Gate of Effulgent Righteousness” (or, in two other cases, different kinds of righteousness), the “Gate of Brilliant Splendor,” etc. But[26] in and out of these gates, for one-half of a thousand years, far more of corruption, cruelty, and darkness, has crept, or trailed, or strutted, than of the qualities fitly called by their high-sounding names. It was over them that the late “lamented queen” festooned more than a score of heads freshly taken from her political enemies in order to signify to the Tai-won-kun that she retained control of His Majesty, in spite of the fact that his father had obtained permission to re-enter the city through that same gateway. But why disturb our admiration of a point of structural interest by recalling one of the long list of doings in and around Seoul, no less distinctive of the character of its government? In those older days, when the Great Bell of the city rang the curfew, the gates were at once locked for the night; and any inquirer may hear from missionaries and travellers how they have climbed the wall in order not to sleep outside—thus incurring the death penalty, which was not, however, at all likely to be enforced upon the protected foreigner. The gates themselves, and the devices for locking them, are very similar to those so frequently met with as the relics of mediæval Europe. But the clay manikins (or Son-o-gong) which sit astride the ridges of the roof, are designed to warn and ward off all evil spirits that may attempt to enter the city. The old-fashioned guards, with their dreadful array of big knives and swords, have now given place to the modern policeman, whose principal duty is to keep the gateway clear for traffic. This service is needed, for it is said that no fewer than 20,000 foot-passengers, besides a stream of laden ponies and bullocks, and a tolerably frequent schedule of electric cars, sometimes pass through the South Gate in a single day. And the Koreans in the streets are a slow-moving, stubborn, and stupid crowd.

To the ordinary traveller, after the first strangeness of its more obvious aspects is over, not much remains of particular interest in the capital city of Korea. Of fine buildings, of[27] museums, picture-galleries, temples, theatres, parks, and public gardens, there is little or nothing to compare with any European or Japanese city of the same size. There is, however, here as everywhere in the peninsula, no little of antiquarian and historical interest which awaits the researches of those trained and enthusiastic in such pursuits. Of those sights which the city of Seoul within the walls can show, there are three principal classes—the so-called palaces, the shrines, and the monuments. Even these are interesting, not for their intrinsic grandeur or beauty, but chiefly for their connection with the legends or historical incidents of the country.

To quote again from the articles of Dr. Jones: “The Koreans apply the term Kung or palace to all residences of royalty, and to them Seoul is a city of palaces, for there are eighteen Kung of varying sizes and degrees of importance in and about the city.” Among the eighteen, however, “there are several which are to-day a name and nothing more.” Of these minor palaces the most interesting is that called the “Special South Palace,” which was erected nearly five hundred years ago by one of the kings for his favorite daughter and her consort. But the latter made it such a “veritable den of infamy” that it was abandoned as a house haunted by evil spirits and unsafe for habitation. The mixture of fawning malice and hypocritical servility characteristic of Korean officialdom was at one time humorously exhibited in a way to deceive even the Chinese; for when the Mings were overthrown by the Manchus, the hated envoys of the latter were assigned to this House, “for their entertainment and as a covert derogation to their dignity.” Thus, too, with the so-called “Mulberry Palace,” known by the Koreans as the “Palace of Splendid Happiness.” It was erected by the tyrant Lord Kwanghai who was here dethroned, and from here sent into exile, where he died a prisoner. From it also his successor was driven out by the usurping “Three Days,[28] King.” It was in this palace, also, that the King Suk-jong, having surprised his favorite concubine in practising magic rites to accomplish the death of the Queen whom she had already caused to be divorced and banished, turned upon the concubine herself, sentenced her to drink poison, and when she in revenge mutilated the Crown Prince, had her torn in pieces. Its present name is derived from one of the many fruitless experiments which the present Government of Korea, left to itself, is constantly making. The “mulberry” plantation remains only as a name to adorn, or degrade, the ruins of the palace. But if any visitor to Seoul thinks that such violence, lust, and thriftlessness, must of necessity belong to the ancient history of Korea, let him learn his mistake. Were the firm, strong hand of the Japanese Resident-General withdrawn, there is not one of these horrid deeds which might not be reproduced at any hour.

These are not, however, the “Major Palaces,” through which the foreign visitor is usually conducted, after having obtained a permit from the proper authorities. The palace, known to the Koreans as the Kyung-pok, or “Palace of Beautiful Blessing,” and to foreigners as the “Summer Palace,” dates from 1394, and was occupied by the present Emperor until 1896. Nowhere else have I seen so large a space (it is estimated that the principal enclosure containing only the buildings deemed necessary for his Korean Majesty’s comfort, contains one hundred acres, besides which there are other enclosures running up the slopes of the mountains and designed for defence) strewn over with desolated and half-ruined barbaric splendor. The main Gateway, through whose central arch no other person than His Majesty and his bearers may pass, is an impressive structure and is still in fairly good repair. It is guarded by stone effigies of the Hai-tai, or mythical sea-monsters, who are prepared to spout water against the mysterious influences[29] stored in the “fire mountain,” some ten miles away to the southward. They are therefore called “Fire Dogs.” Once inside the enclosure, one is presented with a melancholy picture of neglect, swiftly oncoming decay, and advancing ruin. All this is the more melancholy, because the present palace buildings are only about fifty years old, were erected by the Prince-parent of the present Emperor, almost to the financial ruin of the country, and were abandoned only after the assassination of the Queen, October 8, 1895.

Amidst this crowded waste where formerly three thousand persons lived in attendance upon the separate establishments for the King, Queen, Crown Prince, and the Dowagers, there are only two buildings which, architecturally considered, are worthy of note. One of these is the old “Audience Hall.” Its columns, although many are cracked for a considerable part of their length, and none of them ever possessed anything like the beauty or finish of the noble wooden pillars of the Nishi Hongwanji in Kyoto (which, however, they resemble in style and effect), seem to have been made of entire stately trees. There are really no galleries, but the appearance is that of a two-galleried hall. The strong colors of red, black, green, and blue, with which the carved and panelled ceiling is decorated, in a manner similar to that of the castles in the Tokugawa period in Japan, seem to find their way through one’s upturned eyes to the base of the brain. In some of its structural features this Audience Hall resembles the audience halls of the Muhammadan monarchs in Northern India more than anything to be found in Japan. This is especially true of the high platform on which the throne was placed. The decoration central over it, and that central in the ceiling of the whole hall, is golden dragons, with clouds and flames, in bas-reliefs; it is in an excellent state of preservation.

The other really fine building in the entire collection is the[30] so-called “Hall of Congratulations,” whose upper floor is supported by forty-eight granite monoliths—six rows of eight each in a row. These pillars are about sixteen feet high and three feet square. The lotus pond surrounding the building is oblong and faced with masonry; while miniature islands rise here and there above the surface of the water. This Hall was intended for state social functions of the out-of-door character.

By going still further back of the sleeping apartments of the King, which consisted of nine rooms arranged in a square, so that the eight surrounding the central room could guard it from intrusion or attack, we come in front of the wall behind whose screen are the apartments in one of which the brilliant and attractive but cruel Queen met her own most tragic and cruel death. All are now forbidden to enter there. But some twelve years before, our escort had seen the dark bloodstains on the floor—perhaps hers, perhaps those of her chamberlain who met his death in trying to protect his queen. And one has only to look a little way over to the right in order to see the now peaceful pine-grove where her body was dragged and burned. Such was the deed which terminated the royal habitation of another, and this the most splendid, of the palaces of Seoul!

It is the grounds, rather than the buildings, of the East Palace, especially when the azaleas and cherry bushes and apricot-trees are in full bloom, which constitute its beauty. Here the diplomatic corps and the other invited guests of the Emperor are accustomed to have picnics and afternoon teas. The apartments, which were united into one so-called palace in the reign of Suk-jong (1694-1720) appear to be most distinctively Korean and are unlike any other buildings which I have ever seen. The rooms are small and rambling; and the screens between them are decorated with those geometrical patterns which are so ancient and so nearly universal[31] wherever architecture has reached a certain stage of development. The ceilings are low and devoid of decoration, but are made pleasing by being everywhere “beamed-over.” This palace, too, has not escaped its history of violence and its bath of blood. Here it was that, in 1884, the party of Progressives, headed by Mr. Kim Ok-kiun, tried to enforce reforms by capturing the person of the King. But the conservative party of Koreans, helped by eight hundred Chinese soldiers under the leadership of the Major Yuan, who afterward became Li Hung Chang’s successor, and is even to-day cutting an important figure in the complicated politics of China, finally drove out the Progressives and the one hundred and forty Japanese who were defending them.

Little else of the mildly exciting “sights” of Seoul remains besides the Great Bell and the Marble Pagoda. The former bears witness to an art in which the Koreans once excelled, but which is now, like all the other arts, either lost or neglected. At Nikko, it will be remembered, there is a Korean bell which was presented to one of the Japanese Shoguns. Setting aside all legends as to the time and incidents of its manufacture and hanging, a recently deciphered inscription on its own side tells the date as 1469 and gives the names of the prominent men connected with the undertaking. The report of a Chinese envoy of 1489, who says of the bell, “It calls all men to rest, to rise, to work, to play,” taken in conjunction with the fact that, to avoid the troubles of faction and violence, men were forbidden on the streets after dark, probably gave rise to the report that women only were allowed to go abroad at night. And this is believed by natives and travellers until the present hour. But the bell, which once rung to open and close the massive city gates, now rings only to tell of midnight and midday. And, although it is about eight feet in diameter and ten feet high, it is no great sight as looked at by peeking through the bars of its surrounding[32] cage. It does, however, like many other things else in Seoul, bear witness to the life of the past and the changes of the present.

The marble pagoda is at the same time the most notable existing monument of Buddhism in Korea and the most interesting art-object in Seoul. It came, however, from abroad; tradition connects its gift with a Mongol princess who, after the death of Kublai Khan, came to Korea in 1310 to become the queen-consort of King Chung-sun. It was brought in a junk from China and at first erected in the grounds of a temple in the little town of Hanyang—the predecessor of Seoul on the same site; for the capital of the present dynasty was not then built. The temple grounds were beautified in its honor; roads were constructed leading to it; and a bridge was built over a stream running near by. But the Korean inevitable happened to it—the fate meted out to all that shows signs of order, industry, or art, when not of immediate selfish interest to the rulers of Korea. The roads, encroached upon by surrounding hovels, became foul and narrow alleys; a squatter built his straw-thatched hut about it; and the stream became the main sewer of the city, which is cleaned only by the downpour of the summer rains. Thus, as says our chronicler: “The gift to Korea of one of the mighty Mongol Khans, whose arms had literally shaken the world, became the impedimenta of a Korean coolie’s backyard, sixteen by twenty feet square!” What wonder, however, in a land where court officials and palace hangers-on do not hesitate to-day to steal the screens, and other presents from foreign monarchs and plutocrats, out from under His Majesty’s very eyes.[2]

The pagoda itself, which has now been cleared from the clutter of huts and made the central object in Seoul’s first attempt at the beginnings of a public park, deserves a brief description. It is of white marble, much stained by time, war, and neglect, and was originally thirteen stories in height; although only ten of these are now standing, while the upper three have been removed and rest beside it on the ground. The base and first six stories have twenty sides; the remainder are squares. Each story is symmetrically diminished in size; some have galleries with curved eaves and upturned corners. The ornamentation is exceedingly complicated and abstruse in its symbolism and suggestiveness. There are sculptured upon the flat surfaces processions of tigers, dragons, men on foot and on horseback, teachers discoursing in groves, pictures taken from the traditional life of Buddha, and various bas-reliefs of different Buddhas. The lower stories are composed of several blocks of carved stone, but the smaller and upper stories are monoliths.

Near the pagoda stands the Tortoise Tablet, a very ancient structure; the tablet is said originally to have been brought from the Southern Kingdom of Scilla, and erected upon the ledge of granite which outcropped in this place, after the rock had itself been carved into the shape of a tortoise. It was designed to memorialize the building of a temple which dates back to the eleventh century A. D. The tablet is probably more than one thousand years old.

Within the small enclosure surrounding these relics, Mr. Megata, the Japanese financial adviser to the Korean Government, is trying to encourage the public spirit of the natives and entertain the resident foreigners by providing band concerts on Saturday afternoons. Thus this spot also offers a study in epitome of the history, present changes, and future prospects of the capital city of Korea.

Of the few shrines which the royal prohibition of Buddhism[34] and the low and decaying interest in all religious conceptions rising above the level of spirit-worship—and this mostly devil-worship—have allowed to remain in Seoul, the only ones of any particular importance are the Imperial Ancestral Shrines and the so-called “Temple to Heaven.” But even the guests of Marquis Ito did not think it wise to ask for permission to visit these shrines, or to exhibit any more curiosity respecting them than to glance by the guard, through the open doors of the gateway, while passing along the street. As to the New Palace, which is a stone building of modified Doric architecture, and is so far finished externally that it can be seen to have decided claims to beauty, if only the superstitions of the monarch and of his counsellors among the blind-men and the sorcerers had permitted it to be well placed—this was ever before our eyes from the windows of Miss Sontag’s house. And what was seen of the buildings occupied at the time of our visit by His Majesty and the Court, so far as it is worth a word, will be described in another place.

The Seoul seen from the surrounding mountain-sides, and the Seoul of so-called palaces, is not the city in which the people live. Apart from a few of its inhabitants—such as the missionaries, certain foreign business men and diplomatic agents, together with a small number of native officials who have acquired a taste for foreign ways—the Seoul of the people is disgustingly filthy and abjectly squalid. It is, indeed, not so filthy and miserable, and lacking in all the comforts and decencies of respectable Western life, as it was a generation, or even a few years ago. Several of the streets have now been—not only occasionally when the King was going a “processioning” through them, but habitually and to the benefit of the populace—cleared of their encroachments of squatter hovels, huts, and booths. The gutters along the sides of these streets do not quite so much as formerly disturb the eyes and nostrils of the pedestrian, especially if he walks[35] in the middle of the thoroughfare; their use for vile purposes is not so much in evidence as was the case before any of the natives had even a glimmering sense of decency about such matters. In spite of the increased business activity of the city there is not to-day quite the same stream of white-robed saunterers, stately in gait but low in character, to give a semi-holiday aspect to the “Broadways” of Seoul; for electric cars transport the multitudes back and forth in several directions. Besides, there is the neat, attractive Japanese quarter. Here, according to my observation, the Koreans themselves were doing more sight-seeing and more trading than in their own quarters; for here the cheaper products of the new and hitherto unknown world are skilfully displayed. But otherwise and elsewhere in the city, the same unsanitary conditions and indecent habits, in all respects, prevail. The narrow, winding alleys are flanked with shallow, open ditches, that are not only the drains and sewers but the latrines of the dwellers in the low earth-walled houses on either side. Cowardly and lean dogs, naked children, and rows of men squatting and sucking their long pipes or lying flat upon the ground, crowd and obstruct these alleys. And from them the wide-spreading Korean roofs cut off the purifying and enlivening sunlight. Many of the most wretched and unsanitary of these hovels squat under the shadow of the stately city wall. May its stones sometime be used to build a better and healthier city!

There are, however, yet more notable changes and improvements than those already accomplished, which seem destined surely and speedily to follow. A water-supply, for which the surveys and contracts have already been completed and for which, during our visit, the pipes were beginning to be laid, will not only diminish the dangers that lurk in the cans of the professional water-carriers and in the private wells, but will assist the summer rains in their formidable[36] task of washing clean the open sewers. More of these foul, winding alleys, and huddles of hovels, will be abolished. The increase in the interests of life, and the enjoyment of the rewards of protected industry, will diminish the drunkenness and gluttony, varied by enforced periods of starvation, which now distress the people. The new hospital and medical school—the former of which will immediately relieve much suffering and the latter of which will perform the yet more important service of educating a native medical class—are among the most cherished projects of the Resident-General. And when to these more essential matters there is added the cultivation of the native love of nature and taste for flowers, it is not an extravagant hope to picture Seoul as becoming, in many respects, a not undesirable place for residence, before many years are past. Even now, with the spring covering of bloom from plum, apricot, apple, and cherry, and with the profusion of flowering shrubs which adorns the valleys and the mountain-sides, one feels inclined to overlook, at least for the months of April and May, the foul sights of the gutters and the surrounding hovels. But all this was, as it were, only background and theatre for the work I wished to do and the observations I wished to make.

After accepting Marquis Ito’s formal invitation to attempt a special kind of service in Korea, the first problem to be solved concerned the choice of ways for approaching that service. Its solution was by no means obvious. In Japan there were more of urgent requests for public addresses and lectures of various kinds than could possibly be accepted. And everywhere that the speaker went, influential and large organizations of an educational and public character, to whose support the governors, of the Kens and the mayors of the cities were officially committed, could be relied upon to make all necessary arrangements and to carry the arrangements through effectively. More important still, there was the most eager interest in the subjects upon which the prospective audiences wished to be addressed, and the attitude of an open mind and even of warm personal attachment toward “the friend of Japan.” In Korea, however, all the influences would be of precisely the opposite character—indifference, deficiencies, hindrances, if not active opposition, so far as the native attitude was concerned. In Korea there were no educational associations; and, outside of a very small circle in a few cities, there was little or no interest in education. The local magistrates were, almost without exception, devoted to “squeezes” rather than to the increase of intelligence and the moral improvement of their districts. The teachers of the few existing schools were, in general, without[38] any modern culture; they were even without the most rudimentary ideas on the subjects of pedagogy, ethics, and religion. Only in a small number of places were there any halls that could accommodate an audience, should one be gathered by an appeal to curiosity and to the Korean thirst for “look-see”; while to be known as a “friend of Japan” and a guest of Marquis Ito was to erect an almost insuperable obstacle in the way of reaching the ears of the Korean upper and middle classes, to say nothing of convincing their minds or touching their hearts. Addressing the lower classes on any scholastic topic was impossible. Through what organ, then, could a stranger help the Resident-General in his benevolent plans for the welfare of the people of Korea?

Reflection upon this problem of a means of approach to the Koreans ended in the fortunate choice of the Young Men’s Christian Association at Seoul. To be sure, the direct influence of this association is at present wisely limited to the capital city. The illicit organization of branch associations, which was undertaken for political purposes by the Koreans themselves, has made it necessary to check, rather than encourage, all efforts to multiply Y. M. C. A. societies in places beyond the immediate and unceasingly watchful control of the foreign secretaries. The same hypocritical and unscrupulous use of the name of religion for purposes of political intrigue compelled the Methodist Mission in Korea to break up the “Epworth League.” A letter to a friend in Tokyo, explaining my purposes and my embarrassment, resulted in the following telegram, which was received in Shimonoseki late in the evening of the day before sailing for Fusan:

These words illumined to no small degree the prospect of establishing relations favorable to the success of the proposed plans.

In this connection it is pertinent to say that I had been advised to seek especially the counsel and assistance of Bishop Turner of the Church of England, and of the Korean, Mr. Yun Chi-ho. The Bishop was the president of the Young Men’s Association; and the Korean gentleman is of good family, has a well-merited reputation for honesty, and has been prominent in religious work among his own people. As the history of my experiences will show, I was disappointed with respect to both these sources of information and help. Bishop Turner was either absent or ill during nearly the entire time of my stay in Korea; and Mr. Yun Chi-ho exhibited so persistently and adroitly the qualities which I had heard described as “a pessimistic disposition,” and which in the opinion of all who knew him, both natives and foreigners, unfitted him for incurring any of the responsibilities of leadership, as to somewhat hamper rather than assist any efforts in behalf of his own people. It was not, of course, to be expected that a Korean Yang-ban should willingly confess the demonstrated incapacity of the Korean nation for self-government; even less, perhaps, that he should himself assist the Japanese in doing for his own people what they never have done, and never could do, for themselves. But that intelligent native Christians should take an attitude of passive opposition to offers of assistance on matters of education, morality and religion from a friendly foreigner of another nation, simply because that foreigner was the guest of the Japanese Resident-General, shows how characteristic and deep-seated are the obstacles which the official class are opposing to the redemption of Korea. But I was to witness the manifestation of the extreme form of the same feeling toward the association of those of their own countrymen who were co-operating with the Japanese in plans for reform.

The morning after our arrival in Seoul, at about 10.30 o’clock, Marquis Ito sent Mr. Zumoto to conduct me to his[40] private office in the Residency House. The official residence is one of a group of buildings belonging to the Japanese Government and situated upon a succession of spurs from the mountain Nam-san, in a portion of the city which lies beyond the Japanese quarters. The surrounding grounds, especially from points above the house, command fine views of the city, and are being constantly improved and beautified in accordance with Japanese taste. So lonely are the mountainous heights above the grounds that numerous wild-cats have descended upon the chicken-yard of the Residency, and more than a dozen of these pests have been caught in traps and are now caged as part of a small menagerie or private “Zoo.” There are persons now living in Seoul, not of advanced age, who have encountered tigers of the “man-eating” species, to say nothing of less formidable wild beasts, such as leopards and foxes, within the city walls.

At this morning’s interview the Marquis was the first to speak, after a few minutes of silence which followed the exchange of greetings. But it was only to say that, of course, he could procure me invitations from the Japanese to give public addresses, and even, he presumed, from the Koreans; this, however—especially in the latter case—would probably embarrass my work, since it would subject it to suspicion. After these words he paused in a way to suggest an invitation for me to speak freely of my plans. I began by saying that I had no training or experience in matters of diplomacy; but I believed that, for me at least, the best course of action would conform to these two rules: to be entirely frank and good-tempered when you had anything to say; and to know when and how to hold your tongue if silence seemed the proper policy. At this the Marquis laughed—it seemed approvingly. In brief, the plans, as far as formed at present, were as follows. As to Mission:—Public: I was here as the guest of Marquis Ito, to speak to the Koreans in a sincerely[41] friendly way, on matters of education, morals, and religion, especially as these matters concerned their national welfare; private: to discover what I could which might assist the Resident-General in dealing with his difficult problem and to assure all, whom I could reach, that he sincerely wished to serve the real interests of the Koreans and to secure for them the administration of justice and an increased prosperity. As to Message:—Public: that the real prosperity of the individual and of society can be secured only by developing a character which deserves it; and private, as already defined by the private mission. As to Means:—Since there are in Korea no Teachers’ Associations, I hoped to work through the Young Men’s Christian Association and through such other connected agencies as they might secure; and especially to get opportunities to address Missionary Schools and Christian congregations in the churches. I also hoped to form friendly relations with the missionaries and with some of the diplomats and foreign business men in order to learn their views of the situation and to gain from them information and suggestions for its improvement. Especially did it seem to me desirable that the spiritual forces wielded by the missionaries should co-operate for the good of Korea with the political forces wielded by the Resident-General.

At this first interview, as at all subsequent interviews during my stay in Korea, the Resident-General uniformly replied in the negative to every request for criticism of my plans, or even for suggestions as to their improvement. On one particular occasion when I ventured to repeat the question: “But has the Marquis no suggestions to make?” the same answer, “No, I have no suggestions to offer,” was returned. When I afterwards asked the only third person who was ever present at any of these interviews whether after my departure some comments had not been made which might assist in deciding upon the best course of action,[42] the reply again was an unqualified negative. And upon surprise being expressed at this, the remark followed: “It is the custom of the Marquis, when he trusts any one, to trust him completely.” And, indeed, the promise to leave me absolutely independent, which had been made in private and which was soon made public, was, throughout, most strictly kept.

The same day, after tiffin, one of the under-secretaries of the Y. M. C. A., in the absence of Mr. Gillett, the Chief Secretary, called upon me for the discussion of plans and topics for the lectures in Korea. It then became evident that the manner of coming would, as had been suspected, prejudice the Koreans against the speaker and his words. Secretary Brockman, indeed, agreed with me in thinking that a large measure of frankness was desirable. But the Korean officers and members of the Association were timid. It appeared that the Korean Daily News had already reminded its readers, with a sinister warning, that Professor Ladd did not come from America, but from Tokyo, to Korea. The effect of this, with all it implied, will soon appear. Any more definite decision as to ways of procedure was, therefore, deferred until further consultation could be had with those chiefly interested in the affairs of the Association and the moral and religious welfare of the Korean people.

The next morning a committee of three, representing the Association and the two principal Missions doing work in Seoul, called, and two hours of friendly discussion followed over the wisest method of solving this problem: How to employ the American guest of the Japanese Resident-General as a teacher of education, morals, and religion, under existing conditions, to Korean audiences. A complex problem truly! From the first, the lecturer himself insisted upon a continuance of the open and frank policy of approach; any attempt at concealment of his relations to Marquis Ito and of his confidence[43] in the Marquis’ plans for helping Korea would only result in an increase of prejudice, suspicion, and in other invitations to failure. It was during the course of this discussion that one of the missionary members of the committee frankly declared his continued unwillingness, previously expressed, to have anything to do with a plan for “smoothing the way” for the Japanese. In case this was Professor Ladd’s purpose, “let him go ahead and smooth the way, if he could; for his own part he wished to be counted out.” The conference, however, ended in the harmonious agreement that three lectures should be given within the next week, under the auspices of the Young Men’s Association. These were to have dates as follows; for the next Saturday evening, upon the subject, “Education and the Social Welfare”; for Sunday afternoon, upon the subject, “Religion and Social Reform”; and for Monday evening, upon “Education as Related to the Stability and Progress of the Nation.” It was originally intended that the address of Sunday should be given in “Independence Hall,” the largest public room in Seoul, which, however, stands outside of the city walls near “Independence Arch”—a structure erected to commemorate the formal renunciation of the suzerainty of China. The other lectures were to be given in the Association Hall, a temporary building of bare boards, situated in a more central location. Application, however, for the use of Independence Hall was met by the information that it was already engaged for next Sunday. It was then suspected that this was only an indirect and insincere method of refusal; I am not even now sure as to whether or not the suspicion was correct.

On the next day a cordial invitation came from the missionaries of both missions in Pyeng-yang to visit them and speak there as many times as I might be able. The narrative of this interesting visit is to be told elsewhere. But the difference between the attitude of the Koreans toward me[44] in places outside of the capital, where the corruption, fears, and prejudices of the Yang-bans (or ruling class) are less dominant—although some of these places have really suffered more from the Japanese than has Seoul—shows in what motives and interests the anti-Japanese feeling is chiefly seated. It is in Seoul, especially, that many of the missionaries seem not to have kept themselves altogether free from the same unworthy Court influences.

It was on Saturday, March 30, at 3.30 P.M., according to a notice sent the day before, that I was received in audience by the Korean Emperor. Under the escort of the Marquis’ secretary, Mr. Kurachi, and a Korean aide-de-camp, I went in a jinrikisha to the small gate of the palace which is very near to Miss Sontag’s house, and dismounting there, passed through rather irregular and intermittent lines of palace guards to the building where the audience was to take place. The rooms used for such functions, while the new palace is still in process of erection, are far enough from anything approaching royal magnificence. The aspect and furnishings of the entrance hall would scarcely rival a third-class hotel in Europe or the United States. The same thing is true of the waiting-room and of the audience-chamber itself. On arrival I was shown into the former apartment, where were already gathered some of the prominent Korean officials, including the Prime Minister, the Master of Ceremonies, and several officers of high rank in the Korean army. The entrance of Marquis Ito with his suite soon after filled the small room with men whose gorgeous apparel contrasted strongly with the cheap woodwork, which was painted light-pink and trimmed in light-green; and with its tawdry European furnishings. Almost immediately the little Prince, son of Lady Om, entered, and with an amusing air of boyish dignity, made more effective by the mannish costume of topknot and crinoline hat with which he had recently been invested,[45] came straight up to me and gravely held out his hand. The young Prince has bright eyes, an intelligent but almost completely full-moon-shaped face, and a protruding abdomen suggestive of over-indulgence in sweets and other fattening foods. At the mature age of eleven years he had just secured the coveted honor of the man’s investiture, as described above. And seven maidens of suitable rank and age had already been selected, one of whom would subsequently sustain the ordeal of being chosen as his consort and future wife. After the hand-shaking and an interchange of courteous salutations, the boy disappeared. While waiting, I was being introduced to one official, Korean or Japanese, after another; but so often as I rose for this purpose, I was politely requested by the Korean aide-de-camp to be seated again.

The Resident-General and some of his suite went to the audience-room some minutes before I was summoned to follow. It was my conjecture, from what His Majesty subsequently said, that he was being told something about me and about the work which I was to attempt in Korea. In a still later interview with Marquis Ito I learned the truth of this conjecture. The Emperor had been assured that the visitor’s purposes were not political; but the Resident-General, believing that his lectures on matters educational and ethical had been of service in Japan, had invited him to come to Korea to assist in contributing to the same important interests here.

On being invited to do so by the Court interpreter, I followed him to the audience-room. Any expectation of being conducted through stately corridors to a splendid throne-room was speedily disappointed. The audience-room was as near the waiting-room as two small rooms can well be. It was itself so small that there was difficulty in making the requisite three bows before standing face to face with His Majesty, separated only by a round table of the most ordinary sort. At his right[46] side stood, not the Crown Prince, the son of the late Queen, but the son of Lady Om. Before I had come near enough to take it, and indeed before I had made my third bow, the Emperor held out his hand. He is in appearance a quite ordinary man, of the Korean type; and there was nothing worthy of notice about his plain Korean dress. His face wore the pleasant smile with which he is said to greet all foreigners (for, as our hostess says: “Il est très gentil, très aimable”); although its æsthetical effect is somewhat hindered by a bad set of teeth.

His Majesty expressed the hope that I had a pleasant trip and was very comfortable and enjoying myself. A favorable answer, and especially an expression of pleasure at Korea’s beautiful mountain scenery and delightful climate, elicited the remark—he still smiling, while the young Prince looked as solemn as an owl—that, “besides the climate and the mountains, there was nothing else of interest in Korea.” “I cannot quite agree with Your Majesty,” was the response, “for I find the people and the country very interesting and I am sure that my interest will increase the longer I stay.” The Emperor then went on to say that he was glad to learn I had come to instruct his people in right ways; that he hoped they would open their minds to enlightenment and to modern ideas; and that my addresses would contribute to their progress. I answered that I should sincerely endeavor, by speaking on the same subjects on which I had been accustomed to speak in my own country, in England, India, Japan, and elsewhere, to contribute some little help to the same good cause in Korea. Up to this time, no sign of permission had been given to take my dismissal, and, indeed, once when a movement to withdraw had been made, a half-gesture had prevented it; but now His Majesty held out his hand. After taking it, I bowed and backed out safely over the threshold—a manœuvre made the easier by the small size of the room.

On returning to the waiting-room the question was asked whether the Crown Prince was present with his father; and no little surprise seemed to be excited by the fact that Lady Om’s son had on this occasion taken the place on the Emperor’s right hand customarily occupied by the older half-brother. After the entrance again of the Marquis Ito with his suite, and of the Korean officials, to the room for waiting, light refreshments were served; the ceremony was then considered at an end.

My first experience of lecturing to a Korean audience came on the evening of the same day. While waiting in the small, dingy rooms of the Korean building, then used for offices by the Young Men’s Christian Association of Seoul, I was introduced to several prominent Korean Christians. The most interesting of these was the pastor of one of the Korean churches, a member of a high-class family and one of the very few of his countrymen who combines a truly manly native character with a profession of the foreign faith. This man had been chosen by the Crown Prince to assist at the obsequies of his mother, the murdered Queen. The struggles with his conscience, which forbade him either to take part in heathenish rites, or escape with a lie, by feigning illness, or crawl out of the dilemma by resigning the official position he then held, made an interesting story. This man solved his problem of conscience in truly loyal style. And when the Christian pastor told his heathen prince that he could not go, and, as well, the reason why, instead of ordering him punished the latter said: “Why did you not let me know beforehand that you are a Christian, and then I should not have asked you? Go in peace.”

The lecture began late. The hall was crowded with some 600 Koreans, seated on the floor, standing in the open space about the door, and perched in the windows. Besides the native audience, a few missionaries and three or four Japanese[48] friends were the only foreigners present. The arrangements for enforcing order were unusual and interesting. A number of young men, designated by badges, were posted near the door or distributed about the hall. Their office resembled, apparently, that of the tithing-man in the Puritan churches of a century gone by. Boys who became too restless were admonished and sometimes even gently rapped or pulled into place; and those who wished to leave the hall were prevented from doing so unless they could give peremptory reasons for the wish. It was deemed complimentary to the speaker that he did not develop any considerable number of this class of hearers; and, indeed, this particular audience was called attentive. It was, in truth, fairly so; although not after the pattern of the altogether respectful and quiet manners of the Japanese audiences. Indeed, there was always considerable restlessness and undoubted evidence of that kind of applause which imitates what the French call claque, in the Korean audiences at Seoul. On the one hand there was a lack of that intelligent and serious interest in the discussion of questions of education, morals, and religion which one meets everywhere in Japan; while, on the other hand, there was response by clapping of hands to any remarks which touched one’s hearers on the side of sentiment in an appeal to their personal or national experiences of injustice, pride, and weakness mingled with a certain form of ambition. These different characteristics may safely be interpreted as marking essential differences between the present attitudes and prospective developments of the two peoples.

This lecture, as were all the lectures delivered to the Koreans (since they were without exception given under the auspices of either the Y. M. C. A. or of the missionaries), was opened by religious exercises. Dr. Jones introduced the speaker; and Mr. Reynolds, whose reputation for a knowledge of the Korean language has secured him a prominent place[49] in the work of translating the Scriptures, interpreted. The speaker availed himself of the words which the Emperor had that afternoon spoken in commendation of his purpose in visiting the country, to propitiate his first Korean audience. At the end of the two hours the foreigners present expressed themselves as well satisfied with the beginning which had been made.

On the afternoon of the next day, which was Sunday, the audience was equally large, and the attention about equally good; although the drizzle of rain which came on during the hours of meeting made some of the Korean men as nervous about the damage threatening their best-wear crinoline hats as American women are wont to be about their bonnets, under similar circumstances, on an Easter Sunday. As we entered the hall, Dr. Avison was leading the audience in singing. The quality of the song was not high, but it was perhaps equal to that attainable in Japan, outside of the Greek Cathedral at the time of my first visit fifteen years ago. The Koreans are probably more fond of music, and more apt at learning, than are the Japanese. Already, under the training of their German teacher, Professor Eckert, a Korean band is giving to Seoul fairly creditable music. This service of song continued for about one-half hour and ended with the performance of a quartette by Korean young men, one of whom is Chamberlain to the Crown Prince and a nephew of the Emperor. This Sunday’s audience was almost exclusively Christian.

The next evening’s audience was not quite so large as the others had been, but was obviously of much higher intellectual quality. More of the prominent men of the official class, apparently attracted by the nature of the theme, were present. They responded with increasing enthusiasm to Dr. Jones’ clear and vigorous interpretation of my remarks upon the dangers to the national life which grow out of superstition, lawlessness, partisanship, selfish ambition and[50] avarice, and a frivolous, irreverent spirit. At the close of the lecture the audience rose to their feet and waved toward me their uplifted hands as a greeting, equivalent to the Japanese banzai—thus making an encouraging ending to the first series of lectures in Seoul.

On our return from Pyeng-yang it was arranged that a course of three lectures should be given in the hall of the Young Men’s Association to the teachers, and one or more popular addresses in Independence Hall, if this larger building could be obtained. To secure an audience for the teachers’ course, some 400 tickets of invitation were issued and distributed by Korean helpers. The report of the eagerness with which these tickets were sought led the secretary of the association to predict that three hundred at least would gather to hear discussed such topics as the following: “The Work of the Teacher,” “The Preparation of the Teacher,” “The Ideals of the Teacher.” The lecturer himself estimated that an audience of as many as fifty would be entirely satisfactory. As a matter of fact, somewhat more than one hundred appeared at the appointed hour. The Korean helpers who had distributed the tickets accounted for the discrepancy between the fact and their anticipations by the persistence of the rumor that I had come to Korea to take a permanent official position under the Japanese Government. [Indeed, this was the prevalent opinion in Korean official circles—and even among some of the foreigners—until the date of our leaving the country.] But the same question arose again: Had the Korean Christian helpers really told the truth and had they been faithful to their work; or had they dealt with their commission treacherously and brought back a false report? In either case it was obvious that the teachers of the public schools had diplomatically refrained from attendance, under circumstances which might indicate a relaxing of their anti-Japanese sentiments. However,[51] certain of the Government officers now promised to send out word that attendance was commanded; and a large increase was expected at the next lecture. Whatever was the real cause of the first disappointment, the audiences were, in fact, about doubled at the following two lectures. They were also officially dignified by the presence of the Vice-Minister of Education, who, alas! soon afterward was arrested for contributing 1,200 yen to a conspiracy of assassination involving his own chief; he confessed to this intensity of his patriotism, underwent, according to current report, the preliminary examination by being beaten with rods, and was still in prison when we left Korea. As touching the moral efficiency of the lectures, however, it is only fair to say that the evil deed had been done some time previous to the culprit’s opportunity for benefiting by their influence.

At the close of this course on educational topics to the Korean teachers of Seoul, one of the officials in the Department of Education detained the audience by a long and somewhat impassioned address. In this he heartily thanked the lecturer and exhorted the teachers to a better fulfilment of their duties—at the same time lamenting bitterly the sad condition of educational interests in their native land. Then one of the Korean secretaries of the Y. M. C. A. complimented the audience on their excellent behavior while in the hall. This conduct of themselves had been in accordance with their profession as teachers. They had not yawned, or belched, or interrupted the speaker by leaving the room while he was speaking, after the customary behavior of Korean audiences of the uneducated classes. It should be said, however, that one of the many minor indirect benefits to the Korean people which are largely due to Christian missions is this: discipline in remaining fairly quiet and attentive while listening to others speaking. The unregenerate native manners in public meetings are most abominable.

Finally, after several disappointments and rebuffs, Mr. Gillett succeeded in obtaining Independence Hall for Sunday afternoon of April 21st. On our way out to the meeting and back again he revealed the fact that, on account of the opposition to me as the guest of Marquis Ito, he had been unable to get the meeting advertised as widely and effectively as he desired. Whether this was due to the unwillingness and unfaithfulness of his Korean helpers, or to the determination of the native edition of the Korean Daily News to oppose and traduce everything even remotely connected with Japan, I did not inquire. But I decided, and asked the secretary to communicate my decision to his native helpers, that this should be my last address to the Koreans in Seoul, unless invited by the Koreans themselves. Was there not here, I asked, a small body of leading Christian helpers with courage and manliness enough to set themselves against the prejudices of their countrymen by expressing spontaneously their willingness to hear truths about education, morals, and religion, from one who was the friend of the Japanese as well as their own nation’s friend?

In spite of the insufficient advertising, Independence Hall was fairly well filled. Some 1,500 to 1,600 were present; although perhaps 500 or 600 of the audience were boys, some of whom were not more than ten or twelve years of age. Much time was consumed in settling upon the floor in the front part of the hall these school-children as they arrived in groups, one after the other; and the exercises began more than an hour later than the time announced. The topic had been advertised as “The Five Conditions of National Prosperity”—these being, Industry, Art, Education, Morals, and Religion. Partly on account of somewhat heated feeling, and partly on account of cooler judgment as to what are the needs of the hour for Korea, I spoke with audacious plainness and with unaccustomed energy. Dr. Jones, who was acting[53] as interpreter—moved, I think, by somewhat the same emotions—quite surpassed himself in vigor and in clearness, in a fine mingling of robustness with felicity of expression. The foreign auditors, including the interpreter himself, were inclined to be enthusiastic over the success of the meeting. For myself, there intervened a considerable period of distrust, both of the Koreans and of my ability to judge them fairly. Of one thing, however, I was becoming reasonably sure: the prophetic voice, exalting righteousness and openly condemning the vices of cowardice, lying, injustice, and cruel prejudice and race-hatred, is needed above all else in speech to the Koreans. I asked myself, and was unable to answer: Are the Christian agencies at work in Korea furnishing that voice, in a manner and measure to meet the need?

The next morning, on returning from a walk with one of the foreign secretaries of the Young Men’s Association, we stood for some time upon the steps of Miss Sontag’s house discussing the decision of the day before. All the excuses for the Korean attitude toward any endeavors to help them which could, even in the remotest way, be connected with their anti-Japanese prejudices, were admitted; they were indeed “natural” (in the much-abused meaning of the word), but they were neither reasonable nor Christian. Besides, they were rendered particularly unmanly by the fact that these same Koreans were ready enough to profit, individually and collectively, by Japanese money and influence; and they were eager and crafty to use the religious institutions afforded them by Christian money, for the furthering of heathenish purposes and even criminal designs. The best thing which the “guest of Marquis Ito” could, therefore, do for the Koreans themselves was to let them know how, in his judgment, they were to be measured by the standards of morals and religion which they had professed to adopt. On[54] going in to tiffin, somewhat late from this discussion, I found by my plate the cards of five Korean gentlemen, prominent in Christian circles, who had called in my absence. The next day information was received that these gentlemen had come to thank me for my previous work in their country’s behalf and to suggest their wish to have the work continued.

As a consequence of this implied invitation, one more public address was advertised for a Korean audience in Seoul. It was to be in the Association Hall, and its topic—“The Seven Cardinal Virtues.” On the evening of Friday, May 3d, some four hundred were present, including the Roman Catholic Archbishop, whose acquaintance I had made only two days before. Either because of the hot weather, or of the character of the address, or of the audience, the interest seemed less than at any of the previous lectures. The time to terminate the series of talks on topics so little stimulating and satisfying to the desire for “look-see,” and for emotional excitement, had plainly arrived. Probably, eight addresses on such serious topics, with an attendance averaging perhaps 500 to 600 each, ought at the present time in Korea to be gratifying to any speaker. However this may be, the address of May 3d was the last of my experiences with Korean audiences in Seoul.

Meantime, however, other invitations to speak in the capital city of Korea had been received and were waiting for their turn. Soon after our arrival, one of the Japanese pastors called to say that it had been arranged for me, by one of the teachers, to address the patronesses of a school for Korean girls bearing the name, and profiting by the favors, of Lady Om. Although other plans had previously been made, in order to save her reputation with the “leading lady” of Korea, a rebuke was sent to this teacher for engaging her speaker without first consulting him; but the invitation was accepted. [In justice to the Koreans, it[55] should be said that the person guilty of this indiscretion was a Japanese. Indeed, to pledge the speaker, and even to select his time and topic for him, is a sort of morally doubtful enterprise, out of which even the New Japan has not as yet wholly emerged]. The talk at Lady Om’s School was in no respect a success. Although both substance and style were made as simple as possible, the Korean girl who had studied abroad and was, therefore, thought competent to interpret, completely failed in this office. And when the Japanese pastor, who had mediated the invitation, followed with an address in his native language which was to convey the substance of the same thought to the Japanese teachers and patronesses of the school, he delivered so prolonged and brilliant an oration that the speaker whose few simple words served as a text for it all, was obliged to commit a breach of etiquette by leaving before the customary sequence of cakes.

In addressing Japanese audiences in Seoul, as elsewhere in Korea and all over Japan, I felt entirely at home. It was characteristic of them in this foreign land, as it was in the home country at the same time, that they were, above all, desirous to hear the subjects discussed about which I most desired to speak. The day when the nation had expected a full salvation from “science” and military prowess, without morals, has happily gone by. Its leaders, whether in educational circles or in the army and navy, in civil service, and largely, too, in business, are becoming convinced that the “spirit” of Japan must be revived, retained, made more comprehensive, purified, elevated; if the triumphs of war are to be followed by the wished-for successes in the ensuing peace. Thus in Korea, as everywhere from Nagasaki to Sapporo, in primary schools, commercial schools, and in the university, I found the interest of the Japanese in ethical subjects supreme.

When, then, an invitation was received to be present at a banquet given by the “Economics Club,” of which Mr.[56] Ichihara (manager of the Dai-Ichi Ginko or branches of the First Bank of Japan in Seoul) is president, and to speak there, I was glad of the opportunity—not only to meet friends, but also to express certain cherished thoughts on the relations of ethics and economics. The Marquis Ito was present at this meeting of the club for the first time. In a lengthy address, spoken with his usual careful “picking of words,” the Marquis emphasized the need that the Japanese should set before the Koreans an example of honesty and fairness in their economic relations. He dwelt upon the thought that the one hundred and seventy who were present, and who represented the principal Japanese business interests in Korea, should show how the Japanese national policy is based upon the principle of unselfishness; and how Japan has declared for, and means to stand for, “the open door.” In welcoming me he repeated, on this public occasion, what he had said in the privacy of the interview at Kyoto, with the following words: “Taking advantage of his visit to Japan, I have invited Professor Ladd, whom I have the honor and the pleasure of considering as a friend of several years standing, to come over here and favor me with his frank and independent views on the situation. What I want is independent views. I trust he knows this very well. I trust his observations will be of great help to me.”

In replying to the address of His Excellency, after apologizing to President Ichihara for criticising the school of economics in which he had been trained (Mr. Ichihara studied this subject in the United States), for failure to emphasize the important and unalterable relations which exist between moral principles and economical policy, I expressed my gratification at the triumph of the newer school which builds on history, psychology, and ethics. I then spoke of the importance of regarding moral principles as fundamental in all practical ways, for the most successful handling of the[57] delicate political and economical, as well as social interests, of both Japan and Korea. The observations of both speakers to the same effect were seriously listened to and heartily commended by this influential group of Japanese financiers in Korea. Between these gentlemen and the unscrupulous and mischievous rabble of their countrymen, who poured into Korea at the close of the war with Russia, a grave distinction must constantly be made by those who would understand the situation there.

The Japanese ladies in Seoul have formed themselves into several flourishing societies, the most important of which, perhaps, is the “Ladies’ Patriotic Association.” This Association is not only useful as an organ for benevolent work among the widows and orphans of the Japanese soldiers, and among the soldiers now on service in Korea, but it has already done much to break down the barriers which exclude Korean women of the upper classes from similar offices, as well as those which separate the women of the two nationalities. It is, therefore, admirably adapted to further indirectly the purposes of the Resident-General in maintaining the honor and welfare of Japan by promoting the good of Korea. On Wednesday of the week following the address before the Economics Club, I spoke to some sixty Japanese ladies, and about the same number of gentlemen, under the auspices of this Association. The theme was the importance and value of relations of friendship between the two countries, as an appeal to the patriotism of those who must be relied upon to bring about these relations. A few Korean ladies also were present at this gathering. And when, at a collation which followed in the Japanese Club-House of Seoul, Mrs. Ladd made a short address to the ladies, a response in few words was made in Japanese by Mrs. Megata, the wife of the Financial Adviser to the Korean Government, and a yet longer one, in the same language, by[58] Mrs. Yi Chi-yung, the wife of the then acting Korean Minister for Home Affairs. Such incidents as these may seem trivial, but they are really noteworthy as the beginnings of what may well grow into a satisfactory practical solution of the difficult problem of establishing a Japanese Protectorate over Korea in a way to secure the honor and welfare of both nations.

The remaining two addresses to Japanese audiences in Seoul were not particularly significant as bearing upon the interests I was trying to serve. They were, however, suggestive as to certain changes going on in Korea which are destined to assist in the redemption of the country. These were an address on an educational topic to about sixty teachers who met in the fine, large brick school-building which marks conspicuously the Japanese ideal in this matter; and a talk on the relation of religion to social reform, given in one of the Japanese churches to an audience of a union character, representing the Christian work among their own countrymen by pastors imported from Japan. An address at the annual meeting of the Bible Society, an address at a meeting of the Asiatic Society, and one or two other talks, completed my work of this character, so far as the city of Seoul was concerned.

It will be remembered that the more important work in which the Japanese Resident-General in Korea hoped I might be of some assistance could not be done merely by making public addresses, however well received by the Koreans themselves. It was evident that his plans for uplifting by pacific measures the economical and educational condition of the Korean people were being misunderstood and hindered, not only by those foreigners who had selfish interests to promote, but also by some who ought to co-operate in every unselfish way. These “anti-Japanese” foreigners were of several nationalities (so far as the diplomats[59] and business men were concerned); but the missionaries were, for the most part, my own countrymen. In the complaint of Marquis Ito, there was never at any time the least trace of bitterness, although the fact was obvious that he felt the credit of his nation, as well as of his own administration, to be deeply concerned. But surely, if both Marquis Ito and the missionaries were striving to promote what was best for the cause of the Korean nation and of humanity in the Far East, the disclosure of this fact ought to make more easy the adjustment of the delicate relations involved in the different kinds and methods of their benevolent work. I knew that the Marquis desired this friendly understanding and cordial co-operation. I thought it right that foreign missionaries should be not less moved than was the Resident-General by the same desire. Union and sympathy, rather than opposition or indifference, ought to prevail between the industrial and educational interests and the more definitively moral and religious.

The larger aspects of the missionary problem in Korea will be briefly treated in another connection. At present it is enough to describe the conclusions on this subject at which I was forced to arrive, and to tell something of my personal experiences. There had, doubtless, been much provocation to form a poor opinion of the character and intentions of the Japanese populace which had crowded into the cities of Seoul and Pyeng-yang during and after the war with Russia. They had cheated and maltreated the Koreans and had brought suspicion and, in some instances, disgrace upon the fair fame of Japan. None of the other foreigners were readier to make accusation of this than were the reputable Japanese to confess and deplore the same thing. But all the robbery and oppression by these unfriendly foreigners was as nothing compared with what the Koreans had suffered from their own countrymen through hundreds of years.[60] Moreover, at this very time, almost without exception, a Korean was to be found back of, or associated with, a Japanese in each scheme for swindling and in each act of injustice or oppression.

On the other hand, the conduct of some of the missionaries had not been altogether judicious or even fair and just. As a body they seemed inclined to be over-credulous and easy to deceive by the falsehoods and exaggerations of their own converts. Not unnaturally, but it would seem unwisely, they had been somewhat too extravagant in praise of the negative virtues of the Koreans, and somewhat too sparing in demanding the more manly moral qualities of sincerity, courage, veracity, and sturdy loyalty to justice and to truth. And—to quote expressions heard from the lips of some of the ladies—there had been too much talk with foreigners and before the natives, about the “dear Koreans”; and “We do not love the Japanese.” That certain letters home—in part private and not designed for publication by the writer, and in part written by missionaries themselves for the press, or by chance visitors or newspaper correspondents to make public stories told to them by the missionaries—had created strong impressions unfavorable to the success of the Japanese Protectorate, was not a matter of merely private information. Moreover, the connection, both implicit and obvious, between these workers in the moral and religious interests of Korea and the enterprises of Mr. Homer B. Hulbert and his colleagues in the alleged political interests of the Korean Court, could not fail to be interpreted by both foreigners and Koreans as hostile to the policy of the Japanese Government. Even as late as August, 1907, an open letter—than which anything more insulting or abusive of the Japanese nation has seldom been published—was written by a Church of England missionary.

Dr. Jones and I had talked over the situation and the policy[61] of the missionary body, as touching the real and lasting advance of morals and religion in Korea, many times before the hour when the point of turning was reached. I had found him always frank, fair, and sympathetic with the difficult and complicated interests of both peoples. He had assured me that, personally, Marquis Ito was steadily gaining in the confidence of all the foreigners, including the missionaries, and even of the Koreans themselves. But the prejudice and bitterness of feeling toward the Japanese generally remained unchanged; and every one seemed to be doubting whether the policy of the Resident-General could win its way. I had steadily maintained the position that, whatever might have been true in the past, the welfare of Korea and the success of missions there, depended upon a positive and hearty co-operation of all the factors common to both forms of good influence. I had previously told Marquis Ito that, in my judgment, the Christian movement now in progress would be the most important help toward the success of his policy in uplifting the Korean people. His Excellency, I had said to Dr. Jones, had held out the hand to the missionaries; for them, through fear of losing influence among the Koreans, or especially at the Korean Court, to refuse to take this hand, seemed to me not only unwise but in a measure un-Christian. Without the success of the powerful influence wielded by the Resident-General for the economical and educational improvement of Korea—for developing its industries, founding schools and hospitals, making the conditions of life more comfortable and sanitary, purging the corrupt court, and securing law, order, and the administration of justice in the country magistracies—preaching, Bible-teaching, and colporteurage, must remain forever relatively unavailing. Moreover, I was becoming convinced that a large proportion of the present interest of the Koreans in the missionary movement had, either in pure or mixed form, political motives behind it.

It was on Thursday, May 2d, that the Korean Daily News—the paper whose most obvious purpose seemed to be, in its English edition, to foster prejudice against the Japanese and to obstruct the policy of the Resident-General, and in its native edition to mislead the Koreans and excite them to sedition—published the following “telegrams about Korea from American papers” as likely to “prove of local interest” (sic). [It should be remembered that this date was only some ten days after the assassination of the Minister of the Household Department, Mr. Pak Yong-wha, and somewhat more than a month after the attempted assassination of the Minister of War.] “American missionaries writing from Korea recently tell of a most intolerable state of affairs in that country where the Japanese have been acting in such a high-handed manner as to cause even the humble native to revolt. The Emperor is held a prisoner and appears to be in daily terror of his life. Nor have the aggressions of the Japanese been confined to the natives of Korea. Americans, engaged chiefly in mining enterprises, had it plainly demonstrated that Korea is no place for them and that they would better move out. A representative of these mining interests” (the true story of this ‘mining representative’ will be told elsewhere) “is now either at or on his way to Washington to see if they cannot obtain redress from their government. This latest development in the Korean situation, the boycott, will doubtless precipitate matters in Korea.”

These “telegrams,” published May 2d in Seoul, bore date of San Francisco, April 1st. It so happened that Dr. Jones came to my office on the early morning of the date of this publication. Finding that he had not read the article in the Korean Daily News, I called his attention to it; and I then spoke more plainly about the urgent necessity of a change of attitude on the part of the missionaries than I had ever spoken before. It was apparent, I urged, that the negative,[63] non-committal position would no longer suffice. Instead of its being justifiable under the plea of not engaging in politics, the very reverse was true. The missionaries in Korea, either unwittingly or half-willingly, were being used, both in Korea and in the United States, to foster anti-Japanese feeling as supported by exaggerations, falsehoods, and only half-truths. They were thus, I feared, helping to encourage the very worst and most dangerous elements in both countries. There was real danger that, if this course was persisted in, the peaceful policy of Marquis Ito, with its patient and generous effort to promote the development of the Korean people, might be discouraged. And if the mailed fist were invited, or seemed necessary, to maintain the reasonable and unalterable intention of Japan never again to leave Korea to be a prey to foreign intrigues against herself and to the degradation of its own corrupt government, the cause of Christian missions in Korea surely would not fare better than it easily could by establishing friendly relations of co-operation with the existing Protectorate. The events of October, 1895, and of the following years, ought not to be so easily forgotten.

Two days later the following, under the heading of “Marquis Ito and Christian Missionaries,” appeared in the Seoul Press. “His Excellency Marquis Ito received Dr. George Heber Jones and Dr. W. B. Scranton on Thursday afternoon. The work of the churches in Korea was discussed and the visitors assured His Excellency that the reports, reproduced from American papers, claiming that the Christian missionaries were antagonistic to the Resident-General and his policy in Korea, neither represented their personal sentiments nor those of their colleagues; that His Excellency might feel assured of their sincere sympathy and co-operation in all measures looking toward the betterment of the Korean people. The missionaries make it a rule to stand aloof from political[64] matters, finding in the moral and spiritual uplift of the Korean people full scope for activity.”

“His Excellency assured the visitors that he gave no credence to the reports thus circulated, and that he entertained no suspicion nor doubt of the missionaries in Korea. He fully recognized the value of the work they were doing for the moral and spiritual betterment of the Koreans, and wished them every success.”

This public announcement of the establishment of friendly relations between the Marquis Ito and an influential portion of the missionary body in Korea was drawn up in semi-official fashion. The gentlemen who undertook the duty of making the advances toward the Resident-General were convicted—as is every one who comes into anything approaching familiar relations with him—of the complete sincerity of his purpose toward the people of Korea, and of his frank and fair-minded policy toward all foreign interests. The Marquis himself, after the interview, requested that the substance of it might be made known to the public. Each party prepared with care the few words which declared this unselfish alliance between the representative of His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Japan, in Korea and these representative teachers of religion, in the common effort to promote the industrial, educational, moral, and religious welfare of a hitherto unhappy nation. Such an alliance—as we may reasonably hope—will contribute to the reputation for wisdom and unselfishness of both parties to it. At any rate, as soon appeared, the immediate results were in the direction of an enlarged future good.

The winter and spring of 1907 in Korea were, from the point of view of one interested in this kind of politics, a very lively period, even for a country traditionally accustomed to similar performances. Four attempts at assassination of the Ministry—one of which was successful; daily disclosures of intrigue, plot and counter-plot; revolts against the country magistrates which took the form of refusal to pay taxes, of attacks upon the police, and of highway robbery; plans for plundering the resources of the nation under plausible pretence of schemes for “promoting” the nation’s resources; foolish excitements selfishly fostered by writers for the press who had their own interests to secure; and quite as foolish, but less selfish, endeavors for increase of public welfare, by those benevolently inclined; secret arrangements for the despatch of the unfortunate delegation to the Hague, accompanied by stealings from the impoverished royal treasury to the extent of several hundred thousand yen; and, finally, a change, not only in the personnel of the Ministry but in its very constitution and mode of procedure, which amounted to a bloodless revolution—these and other like events were crowded into this one half-year. Meantime, especially after the return of the Resident-General, the foundations of a new industrial and educational development were being laid; and the arrangements for a systematic administration of law and justice were quietly made ready. An extensive religious revival was in[66] progress—with phenomena corresponding to those familiar to students of such subjects, when the moral power of a higher religion first makes itself felt among a people who are ignorant devil- and spirit-worshippers and are habitually negligent or corrupt in respect of the manliest virtues. All this ferment was both caused, and pervaded in its characteristics, by the Korean national hatred of the race that was destined to subdue and, as we hope, redeem them.

During Marquis Ito’s absence in Japan those opposed to the workings of the recently established Japanese Protectorate over Korea were indeed busily engaged. Their various enterprises took the several forms mentioned above. As to assassination, one unsuccessful attempt had been made some time before the Marquis’ return to Korea. A beautiful box of nickel was sent as a present to acting Prime Minister Pak. No one of the Korean Court, being wise in their generation, ventured to examine its contents or even to raise the lid of the box. Subsequently the Resident-General examined it himself. It proved to be an ingenious contrivance by which the turning of the key and lifting the lid would pull the trigger of a pistol and explode the powder with which the box was filled. Both box and pistol were of American manufacture. The intention of the pretended present, which it was doubtless hoped would be the more eagerly accepted and naïvely dealt with, since it ostensibly came from so “friendly” a country, needs no investigation. The precise source of the murderous gift will perhaps never be accurately known.

The day but one before our arrival in Seoul another unsuccessful attempt at political murder was made—this time in daylight and upon one of the principal thoroughfares. The object of attack was Mr. Kwon, the Minister of War, who was riding in a jinrikisha surrounded by his official guard. The following account is taken from the Seoul Press of Friday, March 29th:

One remark should be added to complete this public account; and one other to enable the observer to read between the lines. There were Korean body-guards and policemen and citizens at hand; but only one Japanese policeman made any attempt to save the Minister’s life or to arrest the assassins. The rumors rife, so inconceivable to “anybody not accustomed” to the “politics” of Seoul, suggested, as usual, that it would be well not to examine too closely into the plot, lest some one might be uncovered who stood “higher up” in the court circles of Korea.

The third attempt at assassination was limited to the discovery and immediate flight of the intruder as he was trying to climb the wall of the enclosure of acting Prime Minister Pak. But the fourth attempt did not terminate so harmlessly. In brief, the history of this political murder was as follows (its date was April 21st):

The unfortunate Minister died from his wound while in the palanquin on the way to the Japanese hospital. Marquis Ito, supposing from the news received by telephone that acting Prime Minister Pak was the victim, started at once for the hospital; but learning, before reaching there, of the real name of the victim, and of his death, he returned to the Residency. The next day H. M. the Emperor caused a chamberlain to pay a visit of condolence to Mr. Pak’s residence; but the city of Seoul and the country of Korea went about its business of intrigue or its work of tilling the fields, as though nothing unusual had happened. The distinction between such events here and in Russia should be borne in mind by one trying to estimate their significance. In Korea there is no immediate tangible interest, affecting life, liberty, or property, for the individual, at stake, to justify violence.[69] Where the real reasons are not thoroughly selfish and corrupt—as indeed in most cases they are—a misguided patriotism, with a large mixture of hypocritical sentimentality, is the motive for the political murders of Korea. The real patriots, if their feeling is intense enough and their courage sufficient, commit suicide; and those of less degree of intensity refuse to accept office under a foreign protectorate!

In general, it had hitherto been only the court officials themselves who much cared as to what persons were selected by the Emperor for the different high offices in Seoul itself. They, too, had been chiefly interested in the more serious question as to who it is of these officials that gets himself assassinated. The peasants and pedlers, who are the travelling merchants in the country districts, care only about the local magistrates and about the bearable amount of their “squeezes.” But under the administration of Marquis Ito assassination of officers whose character and official acts sustain such important relations to the vital interests of both Japan and Korea, cannot now be allowed its traditional impunity. Investigation into the authors and promoters of this plot, therefore, quietly began and was carried as far upward as seemed desirable or necessary. According to the Korean Daily News, the three Koreans—La In-yung, Aw Ki-ho, and Kim In-sik—who on April 1st “went to the Supreme Court in Seoul and gave themselves up, stating that they were the ones who had tried to kill the Minister of War,” “seem to have been actuated by no selfish impulses.” The same paper calls attention to the claim that the plan was to kill all the five Cabinet Ministers “who signed the last treaty with Japan”; and also to the fact that these same men had been to Japan to memorialize the Japanese Emperor with reference to the condition of Korea under the protectorate of the empire whose head was His Majesty himself. This is as far as the paper cared to go at this time[70] in apologizing for the attempt at wholesale murder; but there is no doubt that the attempt itself was not at all displeasing to the court officials of the other party than the one in power or to the people generally.

The truer story is as follows: The searchings of the police after those who attempted the assassination of the Minister of War resulted in picking up a number of them from various quarters. These rascals were cross-questioned and one of them confessed and implicated as back of the plot financially, no less important a personage than the ex-Minister of the Imperial Household, Yi Yong-tai. This is the man who was once prevented by foreign influence, on account of his thoroughly evil reputation, from going to Washington as Minister from Korea. He is known as a past-master in all kinds of craft and corruption, thoroughly untrustworthy; although he had formerly been elevated by the Emperor to the position of Minister of the Interior. Now, it so happened that at the very time of the examination of the assassins, this same gentleman was in an adjoining room where he and those with him could easily hear everything said in answer to the cross-questioning. It is no wonder, then, that Mr. Yi Yong-tai confessed that he himself was indeed one of the band of patriots who had attempted the gallant measure of paying hired assassins to make way with their political rivals—as I have already said, a recognized, legitimate political measure throughout Korean history.

The progress and result of the investigations into this plot of assassination are so significant that this summary account from the Seoul Press is well worthy of reflective consideration:

An analysis of this group of Korean officials and commoners, bent on wholesale political murder of their own countrymen in office, because the latter were avowedly committed to a reform of the economical and judicial condition of Korea, without distinction as to the ill success, or even, in certain particular cases, the unfaithfulness of these “reformers” shows it to have been composed of three classes of persons. There were, first, the high-class officials who, with one exception, were themselves at the time among the party of the “outs”; and who undoubtedly found in this fact the chief crime of the Japanese administration against themselves. There were, second, the misguided patriots who, beginning with an honorable but vain unwillingness to admit the incapacity of their country to manage its own affairs, had sunken to the condition of prejudice and hatred which made them plan to murder their own cabinet ministers, because the latter had, however reluctantly, admitted this incapacity and acted accordingly. And there was, third, that basest of all criminals, the cold-blooded, unprincipled, hired assassin.

The administration of justice in an even-handed manner is peculiarly difficult in Korea; and, indeed, until recently no serious attempt at such a thing has ever been made. In the case of this complicated plot for assassinating the entire Korean Cabinet, it should be borne in mind that several of its chief promoters were very highly connected; they were, indeed, connected well up towards His Imperial Majesty on his throne. Considering this fact, the issue when reached showed a marked improvement already established in judicial affairs. It was indeed rumored—and perhaps correctly—that Mr. Min Hyung-sik, the Vice-Minister of Education,[74] underwent preliminary examination, in the old-fashioned Korean style, by being cruelly beaten. And the anti-Japanese press tried to make it count against Marquis Ito’s measures for judicial reform that he had not prevented the traditional Korean mode of torturing suspects! But this way of examining criminals was still legal in Korea. It was also said that Mr. Yi Yon-yung, chief of the Supreme Court, sent in his resignation, on the ground that, as his younger brother was one of the five ministers who were doomed to death by the assassins, it would not be fair for him to try the case.

At the time of our leaving Seoul the trial of these conspirators was not finished. But on Wednesday, July 3d, at 4 P. M., the Supreme Court returned judgment upon twenty-nine persons who had been tried and convicted of connection with the plot to assassinate those Korean officials who took part in the Japanese-Korean Convention of November, 1905. Three of the hired murderers who, besides this crime, were found to have been previously guilty of armed robbery, were sentenced to death. The others received sentences of exile (a penalty feared more than death by many Korean officials), for periods of from five to ten years. Among those to whom the longest sentence of exile was measured out, were the notable names of Yi Yong-tai, ex-Minister of the Imperial Household; Soh Chang-sik, ex-Minister Resident, and my auditor at the lectures on education, Min Hyung-sik, Vice-Minister of Education.

Even while the examination of this group of assassins was going on, and after the change in the Ministry had been effected, another plot against the lives of the same men was discovered. This conspiracy was, however, less important as respects the rank of the persons involved and less extensive in the number of those participating. Most of the ten Koreans thought to be concerned in it belonged to the Yang-ban class, or the “gentry,” and all were followers of Confucianism.[75] The opinion prevailed that the motive of these conspirators was scarcely to any degree patriotic; but that their principal object was to collect money from the disappointed political groups of the capital. At all events, seven of the criminals were arrested, the plot broken up thoroughly, and another lesson given to Korean officialdom that assassination is no longer to be so sure a path to official promotion and Imperial influence as it has too often been in the past history of the country.

An amusing but significant incident illustrative of Korean official procedure came under my own observation. Prince Tokugawa, who had been staying somewhat more than a week at Miss Sontag’s, before leaving Korea, gave an “at home” to about one hundred and fifty invited guests. Soon after the company had assembled, and while the ladies were in the drawing-room and the gentlemen in the large outer, enclosed verandah, suddenly the electric lights went out and the company were left in total darkness. The gentleman with whom I was conversing at the moment and I looked through the glass doors of the verandah and observed that the electric lights outside were still burning. At this discovery my companion, who had had some experience in the ways of Seoul diplomacy, became somewhat disturbed, and remarked: “Such things sometimes happen by previous arrangement.” Almost immediately after the sudden darkness came on, a servant emerged from the dining-hall with a lighted taper, and crossing to the drawing-room proceeded to light the numerous candelabra. At the heels of the servant followed Prince Eui Wha, pale with fright, on his way from the verandah to the drawing-room, where he slipped behind a barricade of ladies and planted himself against the wall. It should be remembered in explanation of so singular behavior that this Prince, although he is the Emperor’s son by a concubine, is hated by no fewer than three different[76] parties; these are the Min family, who favor the succession of the son of the Queen; the party of Lady Om, who would gladly see her young son come to the throne; and the violently anti-Japanese crowd who believe that Prince Eui Wha is too much under Japanese influences. It had been rumored previously that a letter had threatened him with assassination. However this may be, the present was not the expected occasion; for examination showed that the burning-out of a fuse was the real cause of the sudden darkness: and a servant repaired the connection so that, just as a workman hastily summoned from the electric plant, entered the front door, the lights as suddenly came on again.

The plots for assassination undoubtedly contributed to the causes which had already for some time been at work to make necessary a change in the Ministry. In spite of the enmity which the existing Cabinet had excited on account of its unwilling part in the Convention of November, 1905, it had held together for a remarkably long period of time. Not all its members, however, were equally sincere or efficient in carrying out the reforms to which they had pledged themselves; at least one of its members had been accused of a notable attempt at the old-time manner of corrupt administration of office. The Il Chin-hoi people, or members of a numerous so-called “Independence Society,” had been “heckling the Cabinet Ministers” by accusing them of venality and incapacity. In a memorial forwarded to the Government by its committee, the beginning read: “We herewith write you and enumerate your faults”; the memorial ended with the amusingly frank declaration: “The only thing for you Cabinet Ministers to do is to resign your posts and retire into private life. Your armed body-guards are entirely useless. If you do your duties assiduously and honestly, every one will love you; but if you pursue idle and vicious courses, every man’s hand will be against you.” Moreover,[77] the acting Prime Minister Pak, although of good intentions, had not developed the ability to lead and control his colleagues, and he was probably acting wisely when he insisted on having his resignation accepted. The resignation of their chief involved the resignations of all and the formation of a new Ministry—although not necessarily of a Ministry composed wholly of new members.

On returning to “Maison Sontag” about ten o’clock (Wednesday, May 22d) from dining out we found our hostess rather worn in body and mentally disturbed; she had herself just reached home after some seven hours of continuous service in the Palace. Mademoiselle also appeared anxious about the comfort and health of the Marquis Ito, who had himself been there during a similar long period, and who had eaten and drunk nothing except a sandwich and a glass of claret sent in by her to His Excellency. The resignation of Premier Pak had been tendered on the Monday previous. The next morning but one, the Seoul Press, published the following announcement:

As the same paper subsequently remarked, this change of government, which had taken place with a quite unequalled[78] promptitude and quiet, followed upon a conversation in which the “Resident-General spoke to the Emperor on the general situation in a remarkably frank and outspoken manner.”

The substance of this conversation between Marquis Ito and the Korean Emperor in this memorable interview was probably somewhat as follows: His Majesty was reminded of the Marquis’ regret that a change of Ministry had become necessary; for under existing circumstances it was desirable to avoid as much as possible the friction likely to accompany such a change. But Minister Pak insisted on resigning and the others, of course, must follow his example. Now the history of the country showed, as the Emperor well knew, that changes in the Cabinet were a signal for all manner of confusion in the Government, caused by the intrigue of parties contending for the control. Promptness of action would alone prevent this. His Excellency wished to remain in the palace until the new Ministry was constituted. Under existing circumstances it was most desirable that the new Prime Minister should be a man who could be trusted; and that, in order to secure internal harmony and freedom from intrigue within the Cabinet itself, he should have a choice in the selection of his colleagues. He should also have a policy, should explain it to the others, and thus secure their intelligent and hearty co-operation and support. In His Excellency’s opinion, Mr. Yi Wan-yong, the then acting Minister of Education, was the man, of all others, most suitable for the position of Premier. This advice—accompanied, as it doubtless was, by words of plain but friendly warning as to the consequences of continuing the old-time policy of intrigue, deceit, and submission to the counsels of base-born and unscrupulous fellows, who were always planning to deceive and rob the Emperor in order to profit themselves—was finally followed.

The Ministry of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry,[79] which for practical importance stood next to that of the Prime Minister, and which had been rather unworthily filled by its previous occupant, was for the time being combined with the Prime Minister’s. Soon after, the Minister of Justice and the Minister of Finance of the new Cabinet insisted upon resigning, and Mr. Cho Chung-yung and Mr. Ko Yong-hui were appointed to the vacant positions. At the same time the vacant portfolio which had been temporarily left in the hands of the Prime Minister was given to Mr. Song Pyong-chun. With these changes and this additional appointment a new Cabinet was arranged in the briefest possible time, without popular excitement, and without opportunity for corrupt intrigue.

An analysis of the personnel of the new Ministry shows that it was composed of comparatively young men and of men who had, on the whole, previously sustained a fair reputation. It also was much more obviously a reform Cabinet; its material was both more mouldable and more homogeneous. The Home Minister had been the President of “Song-kyun College” (a Confucian institution); the War Minister, who was speedily made a Major-General, had received a thorough military education in Japan and had been director of the Korean Military Academy. The new Minister of Education had at one time been Vice-Minister in the same department.

Almost immediately the new Cabinet, in accordance with the significant decision to hold a Council every Tuesday at the official residence of the Resident-General, met to shape a more definite public policy. A full report of the speech made to them on this occasion by Marquis Ito, and of the response made by Premier Yi, was published for Korea, Japan, and all the world to read. In this address the Marquis claimed that he had now, since his arrival one year ago, acted in perfect good faith, with the immovable intention to do all in his power to cement friendship between Japan and Korea,[80] and to develop the latter’s resources. The most urgent need for Korea at present was a reformed administration. Reviewing the history of the past thirty years in the Far East, with which his own experiences had made him particularly familiar, he recalled before them his persistent advocacy of peaceful measures as opposed to those of a punitive war. But it was for Korea herself to say whether such measures should prevail as would insure her independence in home affairs and peaceful self-development, or not. If the present Cabinet did not agree with him, let them frankly and bravely say, No! If they concurred in his opinion, let them free themselves of selfish motives and unite in bringing about the common good. To this address of Marquis Ito, Mr. Yi, the Premier, replied in behalf of his colleagues. After thanking the Resident-General for his advice, he promised that the new Ministry would unite under his guidance, and “despite all obstacles and in the face of any dangers that might lie in the way, would endeavor to attain their object—the best good of their country.”

Other measures followed rapidly, all of which tended to constitute a Cabinet which should be a really effective administrative body, relatively free from court intrigue and from the fear of internal treachery. These measures, taken together, secured a new official system, the beginnings of real government for the first time in the history of Korea, as the following quotation will show:

How complete a bloodless revolution was accomplished in this quiet and almost unnoticed way will be made more apparent later on when it can be viewed in its larger historical and political settings. That His Majesty the Korean Emperor did not like the change, needs scarcely to be said. The enlargement of the power of the Government meant the diminishing of the Imperial power to dispose of the offices, the possessions, not only of the Crown but also of individuals and of the nation, and the lives of the subjects, without regard to law, order, justice, or the semblance of equity. There is equally little need to say that the Yang-bans and the corrupt courtiers and local magistrates, as well as the court-eunuchs and sorceresses, were in the opposition. But only by such changes is to be constituted the true “Passing of Korea,” in a manner to commend itself to every genuine patriot and to all foreigners who honestly care for the good of the Koreans and for the welfare of the Far East.

The Emperor at first was reported to have attacks of being “indisposed,” which prevented his seeing the Ministers when they came for consultation, or for the imperial sanction to their acts under the new régime. But, on the whole, his health gradually so improved that he was able to accept the situation with more apparent acquiescence, if not inner complacency. And the fright which soon arose over the serious consequences that were to follow his alleged Commission of Koreans and their “foreign friend” to enter formal protest against Japan at The Hague Peace Conference, at least for the time being made the humiliations suffered from his own subjects at home the easier to be borne.

According to unfailing Korean custom, it was to be expected that the ex-Ministers would become at once opponents of their successors in office and powerful factors in the intrigues designed to destroy the influence of the latter with the Emperor. The success of the new Ministry, especially in the matter of those reforms which made Marquis Ito’s administration so obnoxious to the ruling classes, was therefore in peril from the Ministry that had resigned. But influence of a private and suspicious character with His Majesty had become, under the new régime, less important and less likely to be profitable; and the ex-Ministers were not only to be rendered innocuous, even if any of them might at any time be disposed to do harm, but were also themselves to be committed by motives of personal interest to a more responsible, relatively reformed mode of administering national affairs. The new Korean Government decided to “create” the office of “Councillor in the Privy Council”; the ex-Ministers were themselves promptly appointed to this office. They were given comfortable salaries, and three of them—including the one who had been publicly reported as having put on a coat-of-mail and secreted himself in his own house, through fear of assassination, at the time of his resignation—were sent on a tour of inspection to Japan. Here they were received in audience by His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Japan, and so well treated that they might reasonably be expected to return to their own country with a spirit of hearty co-operation in measures for reforming the condition of their own country after the Japanese model.

Among the other events of the spring months of 1907 was one which, while in itself considered, was relatively unimportant, was destined to become of no small political influence upon the Japanese policy in Korea and upon the relation of the Emperor and the court circle to that policy. This was the sudden departure, after selling his effects at[83] auction, of Mr. Homer B. Hulbert. It does not belong to the story we have to tell, to speak of the previous history of this gentleman in Korea, or of his views on historical subjects when involving the character of the Japanese, except so far as the statement of the facts and truths of history makes such reference—mostly indirect—indispensable. But on this particular occasion what transpired of Mr. Hulbert’s transactions with the Emperor is so intimately connected with the political events of the period that some special mention of them cannot properly be omitted.

Immediately on my return from Chemulpo, Wednesday, May 8th, I found the excitement of the day was over the following questions: “What was Mr. Hulbert’s motive for leaving Seoul so suddenly? Where is he going? and What is his business?” Now the Korean Daily News, the violently anti-Japanese paper which was currently believed to receive the support of Mr. Hulbert, in the forms of friendship with its editor, writing some of its editorials, and interest in its receiving subsidies, had just published as a despatch from Paris (dated May 3d) the following illuminating statements: “Korea will also participate in The Hague Peace Conference”; but then again: “It is reported that Japan will represent Korea at the Conference.” The conjecture, therefore, was very promptly made by those in the diplomatic service in Seoul that the Emperor had again given another large sum of money to the same hands, with the same hope, as formerly, of procuring foreign assistance or even intervention. This was, however, hard to credit even by those most suspicious; for, from the Japanese point of view, such a transaction would have been on the recipient’s part very like “obtaining money under false pretences,” and on the giver’s part, a breach of the compact with Japan which might seriously impair, or even endanger, the imperial interests. That such a commission was a breach of treaty-obligations[84] will be made perfectly clear when we come to narrate the true history of the compact made in November, 1905.

Inquiry resulted only in finding that Mr. Hulbert’s real plans in going, and even his reasons for going at all, had not been confided to any of his most intimate friends. His Korean associates, outside of the very few higher officials that might be in the secret, held the absurd opinion that he had been bought off from his devotion to them by the Marquis Ito, to whose official residence he had resorted for a conference and an agreement as to terms. To the other foreigners he had assigned the condition of his family affairs as the reason for his removal. To one of his more intimate friends among the missionaries he had claimed that, having heard of a wealthy American who might be induced to give a large sum of money to found an educational institution in Korea, he was going to try to secure the gift. The only points of agreement were that the journey was to be made over the Siberian Railway, and that there was to be a considerable stop in St. Petersburg. In a quite unexpected but entirely authentic way it became known to me within a few hours that Mr. Hulbert had indeed gone from Seoul with a large gift of money from His Majesty and with an important commission to execute. Although the precise amount of the imperial gift continued for some time to be variously estimated and reported, and although its precise uses may never be inquired into—not to say made public; that a Commission appeared at The Hague, and its fate, are now matters of the world’s political history. As such, it will be referred to elsewhere.[3]

It would be a great mistake, however, to suppose that Seoul had no other charms for us as visitors than the opportunity for delivering lectures and for witnessing, from outside and inside points of view, the human puppets which suppose themselves to be defeating the plans of that Supreme Ethical Spirit who shapes the destiny of nations, in partnership with those who partake of the spirit with which He inspires the “men of good-will.” The Court intrigues, and even the assassination of the Ministry, had little disturbing effect upon foreign business or foreign social life in the capital of Korea. With the former it made no difference of practical importance beyond the temporary check, perhaps, to some promoting scheme which depended upon the personality of the Court favorites for its Imperial support. There was no particular reason why society should heed such familiar occurrences. The weather was fine; the luxuriant bloom of the Korean spring and the vivid and changeful coloring of the mountains surrounding Seoul, invited to out-of-doors entertainments; and no foreigner’s life was then in any danger. For, as to the last feature favoring open-air sociability, the foreign visitor or resident need have little fear within the city walls, so long as the mob is not aroused and in control. Aside from one or two articles in the Seoul Press, and the grave rebukes of the Resident-General, I neither heard, nor heard of, any voice raised against the immorality and crime of political intrigue and political assassination. There was at the time no Savonarola or Martin Luther in Korea. But, then, in what part of America, or country of Europe, is such a prophet now to be found? In Korea, as elsewhere, politics[86] and morals seemed only remotely related, even in the minds of the teachers of religion.

The foreign society of Seoul, including, of course, the Japanese, is small, but homogeneous and agreeable. It is, indeed, composed of several nationalities and of varied occupations—from that of the shrewd and hardened diplomat to the unsuspecting but devout missionary. But whatever differences of views and habits, or more important oppositions, lie hidden beneath, when the gathering is social, there is a cordial interchange of courtesies and an appearance of good-will. There can be no doubt that much of this socially-uniting influence has its source in the will of the Japanese Resident-General; and just as little doubt that the Japanese Imperial treasury is somewhat heavily drawn upon for the expenses. But it is worth for Korea all that it costs—and more. Especially true is this, when we consider the effect which is had in this way upon the Korean upper classes themselves. Indeed, it is foreign social amenities and decencies, under the brave and efficient leadership of the lady in whose house we stayed, that have made the Korean court functions half-way tolerable, and that to this hour prevent the housekeeping of the Palace from relapsing into an intolerable condition of filth and disorder. But what the social functions that are now encouraged by the Resident-General are in a measure doing is chiefly valuable by way of bringing the Korean upper classes into apparently—and as, I believe, the event will prove, genuinely—friendly relations with the Japanese. This effect has already showed itself to a considerable extent in the case of the Korean gentlemen. Not only those who have been abroad, and those who are now going abroad (for the most part, to Japan), but even the others are coming to appreciate the value of more cleanly and elegant ways of enjoying one’s self socially than were conceivable by their ancestors. Gluttony, drunkenness,[87] filthy habits and surroundings, seem less natural and attractive by comparison with a few degrees of higher social refinement. The hardest crust to break will doubtless be that which encompasses and crushes the Korean lady. In Japan there has never been anything quite comparable to the still present degrading influences bearing upon the womanhood of the upper classes in Korea. But while we were in Seoul, for the first time so far as known in its history, a Korean lady walked upon the streets, and after making several calls in this fashion, rode home in the electric car! Her companion was a Japanese lady, and the two were selling tickets to a public entertainment given in behalf of a benevolent enterprise. Being present ourselves at this same entertainment, we saw to our surprise quite one hundred Korean women, dressed in their native costume, enter the theatre, and seat themselves among the Japanese of their own sex. If this thing goes on, racial hatred is doomed. For soon it is to be hoped, or feared, according to one’s point of view, that Korean ladies will attend garden parties and, perhaps, finally, frequent afternoon teas and evening receptions, at which foreigners of both sexes are present. And this, I am sure, is a sight never as yet beheld by mortal eyes; at least my eyes saw no sign of its beginning as yet in the now half-opened “Hermit Kingdom.”

A few days after our arrival our host gave us an afternoon reception at the Residency House. It was a beautiful day; and the grounds, which had been decorated as it is difficult for other than the Japanese professionals to do, were beautiful as was the day. The first two hours were spent upon the hill above the Residence, from which there are fine and extensive views of Seoul and its environing mountains. There, in the several well-situated booths and tea-houses, light refreshments were served. There, too, we were introduced to the whole of Seoul “society,” some of whom we[88] were glad to call our “friends,” when we parted from them nearly two months later. The Japanese officials, the foreign Consuls, with their wives and daughters, the Korean officials without their families, the Roman Catholic Archbishop and the Protestant missionaries, and a few of the leading business people, made up that sort of a gathering which is most thoroughly human and most interesting. A collation, with chatting and hand-shaking, in the Marquis’ apartments closed a delightful afternoon.

Of the various garden parties, luncheons, dinners, and receptions, which followed and not only enlivened the otherwise somewhat dull life of lecturing, reading, consulting, and observing, it is not necessary to speak in detail. The visit of Prince Tokugawa and his party to Seoul, which was extended for some ten days, was very properly made the occasion of a series of festivities, at most of which they were the guests of honor; but at the last of which—a reception given in Miss Sontag’s house—Prince Tokugawa was himself the host. The unaffected friendly bearing of these Japanese gentlemen toward the Koreans, with whom they were thus brought in contact, helped to soften the anti-Japanese feeling; and since on one, at least, of these occasions, the reception given by Mr. Megata, not only the foreign diplomats but also a number of the foreign missionaries were invited, it gave to the latter a somewhat unaccustomed opportunity to observe at close hand the enlightening fact that Japan, like all other so-called civilized nations, does not have its true character best represented by its coolies, low-lived adventurers, camp-followers, and land-grabbing pioneers.

I close this brief description of our varied experiences in Seoul with a warning against a very common but, in my judgment, quite fallacious view of the relation in which the capital city stands to the entire country of Korea. It is customary to say that “Seoul is Korea” just as “Paris is France.” But[89] this is even less true in the macrocosm of Seoul than in the macrocosm of Paris. It is indeed true, as Dr. Jones has said, that “as the capital of the Empire its political pre-eminence is undisputed. Intellectually and socially it has ruled Korea with an iron hand for half a millennium.” But it is also true that the real interests and undeveloped material and human resources of the nation are in the country; and that the uneconomical, ignorant, and depressed condition of the people outside of Seoul is the chief concern of all who really care for the welfare of Korea. The local magistrates must be reformed, or the well-nigh hopeless task of reforming the corrupt Court at Seoul would be, if it could be accomplished, of little value to the nation. And if it becomes necessary, in order to effect this reform, and so to bring about the redemption, industrially, educationally, morally and religiously, of the people of the country, then the “iron hand” which rules them from Seoul must be either gloved or broken in pieces. But, in truth, the idol at Seoul which the Koreans worship is an image of clay.

From the historical, as well as the geographical and commercial points of view, the city of Pyeng-yang (spelled also Pyong-yang and in various other ways) is the most important place in all Northern Korea. It has frequently been besieged and assaulted, both by Japanese invaders from the south and by various forces—Mongolian, Chinese, Manchu—coming down from the north to pour their devastating hordes over the country. It was hither that the Korean king fled before the armies of “men in fierce-looking helmets and bright armor with little pennons at their backs bearing their names and family badges,” which were sent against him by Hideyoshi more than three hundred years ago. The city is beautifully situated; it is by nature constituted for all time as a principal centre for distributing over the Yellow Sea the industrial products of fertile North Korea and for receiving in return whatever the adjoining parts of China and Manchuria may furnish for coastwise trade.

Previous to the China-Japan war there were probably not more than a half-score of Japanese within the walled city of Pyeng-yang. But some two years after the end of this war the Japanese colony had grown to several hundred souls. During and after the war with Russia, however, the increase of this colony was so rapid that it could find no room within the walls of the city. It therefore burst through, as it were, the barrier of these walls and built a new city for[91] itself outside the South Gate, which, like all similar enterprises in Korea, by its neat dwellings and shops, its clean and broad streets, and its general air of prosperity, contrasts with, and forms an object lesson to, the Korean city within the walls.

The original inhabitants of the Japanese city were by no means altogether of the class most creditable to Japan, or comfortable as neighbors for the Korean population. There were many adventurers, hangers-on and panderers to the army, who did not stop at either fraud or violence in their treatment of the native population of Pyeng-yang. And while the Japanese army during the war behaved with most admirable moderation and discipline here, as elsewhere in Korea and Manchuria, at its close even the military authorities were not as scrupulous as they should have been by way of appropriating land and other necessaries for their permanent occupation. The wrongs which were then committed are, however, as far as possible in such cases, now being measurably remedied or compensated for; and in spite of the fact that the withdrawal of the divisional headquarters of the Japanese army has affected somewhat seriously the retail trade, and there still continues to be more or less of disturbing friction between dealers of the two nationalities, and a crop of disputes over land-claims that need settlement, there is now a prosperous Japanese city, with some 5,000 inhabitants. The Korean city is also growing in numbers and prosperity. As the two nationalities come to know and understand each other better, that will inevitably, but happily, take place here which has already taken place at Chemulpo. They will learn the better to respect each other, and each other’s rights; and to live together in freedom from outbreaking strife and sullen bitterness, if not in perfect harmony. It was a good indication of this possibility to learn that the Japanese Resident in Pyeng-yang already has coming to his court for[92] adjustment more cases of Koreans against Koreans than of Koreans against his own countrymen.

The invitation to visit this interesting and important city was most prompt and cordial. It came within a few days of our arrival in Seoul. In spite, therefore, of the fact that I was suffering from a somewhat severe attack of influenza, brought on in the quite ordinary way of breathing in the dust of the streets of the capital city, we started for Pyeng-yang, accompanied by Mr. Zumoto, by the early morning train of April 5th. To make the journey more surely comfortable, and to emphasize the relation of the travellers to the Resident-General, the party was escorted about half-way by one railroad official, who, having committed us to another that had come on from Pyeng-yang for the purpose, himself returned to his duties at Seoul.

The night before had been rainy—a somewhat unusual thing in such abundance at this time of year; but by noon the sky and air had cleared, and the strong sunlight brought out the colors of the landscape in a way characteristic of the usual climate of Korea in the early Spring. The railway from Seoul to Wiju is being very largely built over again; so that part of the time our train was running over the permanent way and part of the time over the military road which was quite too hastily constructed to be left after the war in a satisfactory state. This process of reconstruction consists in straightening curves, adjusting grades, erecting stone sustaining-walls and heavy, steel bridges; as well as in making the old bed, where it is followed, more solid and better ballasted. The part of Korea through which we were now passing was obviously more fertile and better cultivated than the part lying between Fusan and Seoul. There were even some portions of the main highway which resembled a passable jinrikisha road in Japan, instead of the wretched and well-nigh impassable footpaths which are often the only[93] thoroughfares further south. In places, also, the peasants seemed to have overcome their fears, both of the laws punishing sacrilege and also of the avenging spirits of the dead; for the burial mounds had been replaced by terraces which enabled the fields to be cultivated nearly or quite to the tops of the hills.

On our arrival at the station in Pyeng-yang two of the missionaries met us with a friendly greeting. Before taking our jinrikishas for the house of Dr. Noble, who was to be our host, I walked for a short distance over the gravelled plain surrounding the station to where some 100 or 120 school-boys were drawn up in military line to give the foreign teacher a welcome. This promptly took his mind and heart back to Japan as well as carried it forward to the future generation of Korean men. On one side, dressed in kakhi and looking very important, stood the larger number, who were members of the Christian school, connected with the Methodist mission. But right opposite in Korean costume of plum-colored cloth were arrayed some thirty or forty pupils of a neighboring Confucian school. It was a matter of interest and significance to learn that just recently the latter, on receiving overtures of friendly alliance, had agreed to a meeting for the discussion of terms; and when the proposal had been made that the “heathen school” should become Christian, it had been promptly accepted! This was, of course, a way of achieving unity entirely satisfactory to the missionaries. At the time of our visit the wife of the head-master of the Confucian school and the wife of one of the teachers had become earnest and active Bible-women.

While we were being conveyed in jinrikishas to the foot of the hill on which stands the house of our host, and as well the church and other buildings belonging to the mission, the Doctor himself was getting home in a different way. This was by means of a tram, the rude car of which seated six[94] persons, three on each side, facing outward and back to back, but with Korean coolies for their motive power—thus reviving, of course, in new form the time-worn joke about the Far East’s “Pullman car.” As to the position and significance of the group of buildings, in one of which we were to be entertained for nearly a week, I avail myself of the description in the Seoul Press, published subsequently by its editor who was the Japanese friend and companion of this trip. “As his railway train approaches the city, the first objects that catch his eyes are a cluster of buildings, some in foreign style, others in half foreign and half Korean style, which crown the hill-tops and constitute the most conspicuous feature of the magnificent landscape that developes itself before his eyes. His wonder increases still more, as the visitor inquires into the result of the great missionary activity of which these buildings are outward manifestations. How great the success has been may be imagined, when it is computed by a very competent authority that fully one-third of the entire Korean population of the city (roughly estimated at between 40,000 and 50,000) are professing Christians. There are Koreans and Japanese, apparently in a position to know, who put the proportion of the Christian section of the population at much higher figures; they confidently say that quite one-half of the whole population belongs to the new faith.... The success which the work of Christian propagandism has attained in Pyeng-yang is all the more marvellous when it is remembered that the work was commenced scarcely more than fifteen years ago. The success of the work has not been confined to the city alone; it is noticeable, though not quite in like degree, in the adjacent districts and all over North Korea which looks up to Pyeng-yang as the fountain and centre of the new religious life.”

On the following day, which was Saturday, I had my first experience with one of the larger Korean audiences. The[95] numbers in Seoul had been, at most, some 500 or 600. But here, although the address was in the afternoon, no fewer than 1,700, all, with the exception of a few foreign ladies, of the male sex, assembled in the Methodist meeting-house which was just across a narrow lane from the gate of Dr. Noble’s residence. The peculiarities of such an audience are worthy of a brief description. All were seated on the floor. Close around the platform, on which were a few of the missionaries and of the Japanese officials, were grouped several hundred school-boys, packed as thickly as herrings in a box. These were dressed in garments of many and bright colors. Back of them and reaching to the doors, massed solidly with no aisles or empty spaces left between, were Korean men, in their picturesque monotone of white clothing and black crinoline hats. The audiences at Pyeng-yang, as at Seoul, were much more restless and seemingly volatile than those of the same size which I had addressed in Japan; although it should be remembered that the latter were chiefly composed of teachers, officials, and men prominent in business and in the professions, whereas this audience, although largely Christian, was of the lowly and comparatively ignorant. A distinctly religious character was given to all the meetings in Pyeng-yang by prayer and by the singing of Christian hymns. The tunes were familiar; and although the language was far removed in structure and vocabulary, the attempt had evidently been made, with only a partial success, to reproduce in a rhythmic way the English words which had been set to them. The singing was led by a Korean chorister who used his baton in a vigorous and fairly effective, if not wholly intelligent, fashion. The cabinet organ was also played by a young Korean man. The missionaries say that the people show great interest and even enthusiasm in learning foreign music; and that they are apt pupils so far as the singing of hymns is concerned. The[96] favorite native music is a dismal wailing upon pipes and rude flute-like instruments, accompanied by the tom-tom of drums. The address on this occasion was upon the relation of education to the social welfare; it was interpreted by Dr. Noble with obvious clearness and vigor.

The audience next morning (Sunday, April 7th) was not so large, but was scarcely less interesting. It comprised both sexes, separated, however, by a tight screen which ran from the platform through the middle of the church to the opposite wall. The numbers present were some 1,400, about equally divided between the two sexes. The girls on the one side, and the boys on the other, in their gaily colored clothing, were massed about the platform; and back of them the women and the men—both in white, but the former topped out with white turbans and the latter with their black hats. The entire audience marked out upon the floor an impressive color-scheme. It was said that there were enough of the population of the city attending Christian services at that same hour to make three congregations of the same size. The afternoon gathering for Bible study and the evening services were even more crowded; so that the aggregate number of church-goers that Sunday in this Korean city of somewhat more than 40,000 could not have been less than 13,000 or 14,000 souls. Considering also the fact that each service was stretched out to the minimum length of two hours, there was probably no place in the United States that could compete with Pyeng-yang for its percentage of church-goers on that day. Yet ten years ago there was in all the region scarcely the beginning of a Christian congregation.

In the afternoon I spoke to about thirty of the missionaries, telling them, in informal address, of certain economic, social, and religious changes in the United States, which seemed to me destined profoundly to affect the nature of Christian missions in so-called “heathen lands.” Nor did[97] it seem incongruous when prayer was offered that the “home land” might receive in its present great need some of the blessings which were being experienced in heathen Korea. For I had long been of the opinion that if the word “heathen” is to be used with that tinge of moral and intellectual opprobrium which usually attaches to it, all so-called Christian countries are in some important respects very considerably entitled to the term. And, indeed, who that understands the true spirit of the religion of Christ shall hesitate to confess that America and American churches as sorely need deliverance from the demons of cowardice, avarice, and pride, as do the Koreans from the superstitious fear of devils or of the spirits of their own ancestors?

The audience of Monday morning numbered 800; it seemed, however, from the point of view which regards social and political standing, to be of decidedly superior quality. This was probably due, in part at least, to the nature of the theme, which was—“Education and the Stability and Progress of the Nation.” The attention, too, appeared to be more thoughtful and unwavering at this meeting.

The public speaking at Pyeng-yang was concluded by an address, especially designed for the Japanese official classes and prominent business men, and given in the hall of the Japanese Club on the afternoon of the day before leaving the city. There were present about one hundred and fifty of this class of hearers. To them I spoke very plainly, praising their preparation for, and conduct of, the war with Russia; then warning them of the difficulties and dangers in business and politics which the rivalries of peace would compel the nation to face; and, finally, exhorting them to maintain the honor of Japan in Korea, before the civilized world, by treating the Koreans in an honorable way. Although, according to the testimony of the Japanese friend who interpreted this address, there were uneasy consciences in the[98] audience, the warning and the rebuke, as well as the praise, were received with equal appreciation and gratitude. I take this opportunity to testify that, instead of deserving the reputation often given to the Japanese, of being abnormally and even ridiculously sensitive to criticism, I have found them, on the contrary, remarkably willing to be told of their failures and faults, and ready to receive, at least with the appearance of respect and kindness, suggestions for their correction and amendment.

My engagements in Pyeng-yang came so near to the limit of exhausting my time and strength that I was unable to see as much as would have been otherwise desirable of the externals, and of the antiquities, of the neighborhood. From the piazza in front of our host’s house nearly the whole of the Korean city lies literally spread out, as all the cities of the country are, beneath the eye of the observer from a surrounding hill. The streets within the walls are, with one or two exceptions, narrow, winding, and made disgusting by foul sights and smells. Here there has been little or none of that widening of thoroughfares and superficial cleaning which has given a partial relief, both to the aspect and to the reality of Seoul. But, as has already been said, the natural situation is beautiful. Under the advice of Japan, a part of the now useless city wall went to make a fine bund; while the space left by the clearing was converted into a street. On passing through an indescribably foul, narrow lane, which makes a disgraceful break between the broad, clean thoroughfare of the Japanese settlement and the fairly broad but dirty street of the Korean city, we were told the following story of the recent attempt of the Resident to get this passage widened. The story is so characteristic of relations between the two peoples that I turn aside to tell it.

Feeling the great and obvious importance of having this[99] public improvement made, the Resident called a meeting of the adjoining property-owners to discuss the terms which would be satisfactory to them. The Japanese owners agreed to contribute the land necessary for the purpose and to move back the buildings at their own expense; the Korean owners agreed to cede the land if the expense of moving the buildings was borne by the Government. The Resident went for a few weeks to Japan, expecting that the agreement would stand, and that by his return the improvement would be well begun. Immediately after his departure, however, two Korean Christians, who had remained away from the meeting for discussing terms, induced the other Koreans to break their compact and refuse to surrender the land for less than 200 yen per tsubo (6 × 6 ft.)—an absurdly extravagant price. The attempt at doing this much-needed work came, therefore, to a complete standstill. The whole transaction was reported by the Korean Daily News of Seoul with its customary felicitous (?) misrepresentation, as follows: “People in Pyeng-yang are greatly stirred up over the demand of the Japanese that the Korean houses on each side of the road outside the South Gate be torn down to widen the road. The people gathered at the office of the prefect and protested against such seizure without proper compensation, and they said they would die sooner than give in to such an imposition.” I can assure the reader that much of the fraud and oppression charged against the Japanese by the Koreans and by their so-called “foreign friends” (even including some of the missionaries) is of the same order. [A letter from Pyeng-yang to the Seoul Press, published not long after our return, announced that the “widening of the approach between the Japanese city and the old town of Pyeng-yang is now under way, and soon a fine wide road will lead from the railway station to the Gate”—all of which means that when the Korean property-owners found their attempts at[100] lying and swindling were not going to succeed, they saw the advantage of renewing the original contract.]

A row up the river in his boat, kindly furnished by Mr. Kikuchi, the Japanese Resident, afforded several pleasant hours of recreation as well as an opportunity to see for ourselves something more of the present condition and future prospects of the chief city of Northern Korea. The city gate through which we reached the river is the finest thing about its ancient fortifications. The views of the bank, which rises in most places bluff and high above the water, are very picturesque and crowded with scenes of both immediate and historical interest. Scores of junks and sampans, loaded with many kinds of goods—for the most part, however, of no great value—are either moored to the narrow beach below the bank or are slowly finding their way up and down the river. At different heights of the banks, standing on projecting ledges or on platforms, men were cutting inscriptions upon the rocky sides in Chinese characters. These were designed to celebrate for future generations the virtues and successes of living merchants and magistrates; but these workmen of to-day were only adding a few more to the much more numerous inscriptions commemorating the otherwise forgotten and, for the most part undoubtedly, really ignoble dead. By the brink of the river were the Korean women at their never-ceasing task of washing and pounding dry the white clothing of their male lords. At one bend in the river, where the projecting cliff acts as an effective breakwater against the winter ice and the summer freshets, the top is crowned by a pavilion which occupies the place where negotiations went on between the Chinese and the Japanese at the time of the Hideyoshi invasion.

The boat landed us at the foot of the celebrated “Peony Hill,” part way up which is situated the decayed pavilion in which royalty used to be fed and given to drink on the occasion[101] of excursions from the city to this sightly place. From this point the views bring the past history and the present prospects of Pyeng-yang together in an interesting way. For, looking to the right, one sees an ancient pagoda and the remains of a Buddhist temple. Looking forward and downward, the eye is well pleased by taking in at once the pleasant prospect of water and rock and fields which the ascent has given only bit by bit, as it were. Looking upward one sees the difficult heights which the Japanese troops stormed so unexpectedly but successfully in the invasion of more than three centuries ago; and also in the war with China, when they turned the guns of the Chinese forces from their own fortifications upon themselves and slaughtered the unfortunate until the streets of the city were choked with corpses. But to the left, and lying just below, is the green island on which the pumping-works to supply the foul city with cleansing streams are soon to be erected. Beyond the island across the river are the pastures, where the breeding of improved horses is to be carried on by a partnership of both governments; and still further beyond are the coal fields which the Residency-General is trying to preserve for the Crown against the efforts of both native and foreign promoters, to exploit them to their own rather than to the nation’s advantage. But the story of these and similar efforts will be told in other places of our narrative; and for the moment we will forget the interests of history and of present adventures, and will just thoughtlessly submit ourselves to the pleasure of being rowed down the beautiful river to the dirty and seditious city.

For it is a story of a nearly successful attempt at a seditious outbreak which would have had a most unfortunate and surely unsuccessful ending, that must now engage the attention. This story also, illustrates the Korean character, the Korean situation, and the relations of the two peoples, in no doubtful way.

The evening before, on Tuesday, April 9th, a committee of students from the missionary theological school had requested an interview with me on the following day; and the morning hour of eight o’clock had been appointed. At the time set they arrived—three in number—and the interview was held in Dr. Noble’s study or “work-shop.” My visitors began, Korean fashion, far off from their final goal, and meandered around it rather than toward it, like poachers feeling their way in the dark. An awkward pause was finally broken by my exhorting them to speak plainly and freely; at which they replied that their country’s condition was much misunderstood and that it was hoped that I would understand and sympathize with them. Of my desire to do this I at once assured them; but when the request seemed to be taking a more political turn, I replied that my interests, influence, and work, were all directed along the lines of morals, education, and religion. As a teacher, it was only as my teaching could get a hearing and have an influence on life, that my stay in Korea could benefit the Koreans themselves. At the same time, I could assure them of my confidence in Marquis Ito’s intention to administer his office in the interests of their countrymen.

During all this conversation there was the appearance, in general characteristic of all similar interviews between natives and foreigners, of a mixture of suspicion and duplicity which is well calculated to betray the unwary into serious mistakes. Certainly, the real motive for their coming was being kept back; the suppressed undercurrent of feeling that could be detected was such as by no means to encourage the confidence that the feeling of race-hatred had been thoroughly purged away from these theological students by the meeting for prayer and confession of the night before. But just as I was obliged to excuse myself in order to keep another engagement the true cause of their request for an interview suddenly[103] sprang into the light. All the night before, they said, the Korean city of Pyeng-yang had been in a state of the most intense excitement over the report from Seoul that their Emperor was going to be deposed by the Japanese! There was just then only time for me to learn from my Japanese companion that he had not the slightest suspicion of how the report, even, could have originated, and to send word to this committee of interviewers that neither he nor I gave the slightest credence to so absurd a rumor.

But this matter did not end with a single interview conducted by the deputation of Christian students. Word had previously been sent that the Korean governor of Pyeng-yang desired to call upon me, and the promise had been made that he should be received in appropriate manner at noon of the same day. Soon after our return from the trip up the river, His Excellency appeared, accompanied by his secretary and by one of the committee of the morning who acted also as spokesman of this second deputation. For such it really was, rather than a merely friendly call from the chief native magistrate of the city. The Governor seemed exceedingly ill at ease; there was in even greater degree than had been the case with my visitors of the early morning, an appearance of mingled suspicion and suppressed excitement, of fear and of hatred. In this case, however, the real matter of concernment did not come at all to the fore. The conversation ended when there had been repeated declarations of my visitor’s interest in the improvement of education among his own countrymen, to which I had replied that I believed this to be the important work which should occupy all Korean patriots and all the wise and true foreign friends of Korea.

It afterward came to my knowledge that the Governor, although not himself a Christian, on leaving the house, went with his secretary and the theological student into the adjoining church of the Methodist mission, and there fell upon[104] his face and began to beat his forehead on the floor and bewail the threatening situation for himself as the responsible magistrate, and the sad fate awaiting his country at the hands of the Japanese. The thought of the enormous interval between this conduct and that of any Japanese official, similarly situated, remains with me to reveal in vivid colors the difference of the two peoples. But all this was only in the small, essentially the same thing which has been going on in the large, throughout the centuries of Korean history.

On my return from the address to the Japanese I was almost immediately visited by a third deputation which consisted of the same theological student who had called twice before on this same day, and of two others whom I did not recognize. This time also the conversation began in similar roundabout fashion; indeed, this time the point of starting was even more remote in character from the real end which it was intended to reach. There was a preliminary recital of their country’s weakness, poverty, and need of foreign assistance; this was accompanied by the suggestion that possibly I might have some rich friend willing to contribute liberally to their mission school, or to the much needed enlargement of the church edifice. Again, the visitors were assured of my deep interest in the welfare of Korea and of my sincere desire to do what lay within my power to promote this welfare. It must be remembered, however, that I myself belonged to the class of teachers who, even in rich America, have little wealth at their disposal. To the best of my knowledge, I had not a single friend among the American millionaires. Should it ever be possible, however, nothing would be more to my mind than to direct some of the overflow of my country’s wealth into the channels of educational and religious work in needy Korea. I was sincerely impressed with the need and with the opportunity.

Now, plainly, all this was not at all to the point of the[105] interest weighing upon the minds of my auditors. Suddenly, and in a startling manner, the real cause of the three formal visits from as many different deputations, made itself known. With lips white and trembling, the same theological student who had been present at each visit, drew from his sleeve an envelope, and from the envelope a document printed in mixed Chinese and Korean, the purport of which he began to explain to my interpreter in a highly excited and rhetorical way. This document purported to be an elaborate statement of no fewer than forty-eight reasons why Japan should annex Korea and reduce its Emperor to the grade of a peer of Japan. “Where did this remarkable pronunciamento come from?” was, of course, my first inquiry. Why, from Seoul, from the Court; but it was originally a production of the Japanese Government which, fortunately, had been discovered in time and which was now officially sent out in order to warn all Korean patriots against this outrageous plot concocted by the Japanese!

The situation was obviously serious, if not threatening. On inquiry it was soon disclosed that for two days and nights the entire native city of Pyeng-yang had been in such a state of excitement as is not easily made credible to citizens of a country accustomed to the exercise of sound political sense and self-control. No business had been done, no buying or selling, on the last market day. All night long the men and women of the city had been sleepless and engaged in wailing and beating the ground and the floor of their houses with their heads. Not a few of the worst classes—including, I fear, some professing Christians—had been working themselves and others up to threats of violence and of murder.

The silliness of mind, the almost hopeless and incurable credulity and absence of sound judgment which characterizes, with exceedingly few exceptions, the political views and actions of even the official and educated classes in Korea, was[106] the impression made upon me by this, as by all my experiences during my stay in the land. I assured these visitors, however, that there could be no doubt about this document being a forgery—as, indeed, it turned out to be. Marquis Ito and the Japanese Government had no such immediate intention; and, indeed, if the Resident-General entertained the thought, he surely was not foolish enough to proceed in any such way. Such childish behavior on their own part, I added, was very discouraging to their friends. What could be done by others for a country where the men who should be leaders behaved habitually in a so unmanly way? Let them quiet themselves, tell their Governor what I had said, and bid him use all his authority to quiet their fellow-citizens. This advice was complied with, as the event showed; the Korean governor was reassured and promised to unite his influence with that of the Christian forces to secure a return of the populace to their normal quiet. It was gratifying afterwards to have this official’s expression of gratitude for what was then done to assist in the peace-promoting administration of his office.

Dr. Noble, at once upon the departure of this committee, gave orders that the church bell should be rung to assemble the Christian community; and in such manner as to indicate to them that they were called together to hear “good news.” An hour later, when we were going down the hill to dine with the Japanese Resident, the people had not yet assembled; but on our return in the evening they were departing to their homes, quieted by two hours of opportunity to express their excited feeling in the Korean fashion of wailing, sobbing, and beating their foreheads upon the mats—assisted by the comforting and reassuring words of those to whom they looked as having knowledge and authority. It afterward transpired[4][107] that a young Korean, one An Chung-ho, who had become by foreign residence infected, rather than instructed, with certain so-called “modern ideas,” had busied himself, as the agent of the seditious intriguers at Seoul, in distributing this forged document and in haranguing the people with a view to excite a popular uprising against the Japanese. It is needless to say that the document itself was not printed in Japan. But the next morning’s sunlight saw the mist and the threatening storm-cloud cleared away.

It was during this visit to Pyeng-yang that I saw something of the remarkable features of the religious movement which was most intense there, but which spread, during the winter of 1906-’07, widely over Korea. The “revival” began—and, indeed, as regards its principal immediate results, it consisted largely—in the irresistible tendency to confession, contrition, and prayer for forgiveness, among Christians themselves. The confessions, while in general they embraced such familiar topics as pride, envy, unfaithfulness, and coldness in the Christian life, very naturally soon revealed the characteristic vices and weaknesses of the Korean character. Taken at their own estimate, and making all reasonable allowances for the exaggerations of temporary excitement, they made obvious the fact that lying, stealing, cheating, and impurity, had been nearly universal in the hitherto existing Christian communities of Korea. In many cases these “spiritual exercises” were accompanied by the most violent physical demonstrations, such as sobbing, wailing, beating the forehead on the floor, and even falling down unconscious and frothing at the mouth.

A more graphic picture of these religious meetings can perhaps be obtained by a brief description of one which I attended,[108] where, however, the demonstrations were all of a relatively mild order. This was the evening gathering of the theological students on a day during the whole of which they had been holding a series of similar gatherings. As we arrived in front of the building in which the meeting was held, there pierced the silent night air a voice of wailing rather than of articulate speaking, in a high-pitched key and with extreme rapidity of utterance. On entering, some sixty Korean men appeared, seated on the floor with their heads bowed in their hands; three or four missionaries were occupying a bench which ran across one end of the room. At the other end stood one of the students swaying back and forth; it was his confession of sin that we had heard while still outside. Precisely what the confession was, there was no opportunity to learn; for after speaking a few sentences more, with ever increasing rapidity and shrillness of tone, the speaker fell to the floor sobbing and moaning convulsively and began beating the mats with fists and with forehead. One of the missionaries stepped carefully between the stooping bodies of his comrades, found his way to the prostrate sinner, and by words and gentle blows upon the back attempted to revive and comfort him.

Then followed a series of similar confessions, interspersed with prayers for forgiveness, none of which, however, attained the same degree of vehemence and physical excess. The substance of sins confessed by these Korean students of divinity was most illuminating. The next penitent wished it to be known that he had broken all the commandments; although it appeared that this far limit had been reached before his profession of Christianity, and that he had been guilty of murder rather in the spirit than in fact. Various following narratives of experience, made with varying degrees of emotional excitement, included forms of wrong-doing common to most church members in all countries,[109] such as pride, envy, deceit, infidelity, and impurity of thought, if not of life. But the climax was fairly reached when one man of early middle-age arose, and in a markedly unemotional way asserted that, although he had formerly resisted all efforts to make him tell the truth as to his real manner of living, he now felt that the time had come when this painful duty could no longer be postponed. How to repent, however, he did not know. The story which was told in cold-blooded fashion was, briefly, as follows: Before professing Christian conversion he had been a wild fellow, and among other crimes had twice set fire to the houses of his neighbors. After profession of conversion he had been employed as a colporteur. In this connection he had thrown away or destroyed the books he was paid to distribute, had told his employer that robbers had attacked him and stolen them, and thus had collected his full salary. Still later he had renounced all pretence of Christianity and had himself become a robber. His life as a theological student up to the present time had been characterized by pride, envy, and constant secret hatred of those of his fellow-students who had surpassed him in their studies.

Among the most significant of the confessions were those of bitter hatred of the Japanese, and even of murderous thoughts and plans toward them. These wholesome self-accusations were in several instances followed by earnest and pathetic petitions—not only for forgiveness of themselves, but for the Divine blessing upon their enemies. [In this connection it is pertinent to remark that, while there has undoubtedly been much ill-treatment of Koreans by Japanese, I have never known of any of that bitter race-hatred toward the former by the latter, which undoubtedly at the present time permeates a large part of the Korean population toward the Japanese.] On being asked to say a few words to these students, I spoke of the unreasonable and un-Christian[110] character of race-hatred and asked them to put from their minds all such foolish and wicked feelings. And then, as though to emphasize the beauty and brightness of nature as contrasted with the unseemly and dark condition of man, we came out under a sky as clear and alight with scintillating stars as I have ever seen in India or in Egypt.

On our arrival at the station of Pyeng-yang, to return to Seoul, on the morning of Wednesday, April 10th, the little fellows from the Presbyterian mission-school were there before us, already in line with Korean and American flags flying, and with drums and trumpets making a creditable noise. The appropriate parting address to this school had scarcely been finished, when another school appeared in the distance, on the double-quick for the station, to whom, when they had got themselves into proper shape, Dr. Noble repeated the substance of the words just spoken to their comrades earlier arrived. Scarcely was this finished, when, for the third time—and now it was the pupils from the Confucian school—a troop of boys came scurrying through the dust, lined up, and claimed their share of the foreign sahib’s parting salutation and advice. And then we were slowly drawn out of the station, and leaving behind on the fence the several hundred school-children and on the platform the several score of Korean Christians and of Japanese who had come to send us off, we returned without further incident to Seoul.

The few crowded days at Pyeng-yang appear in retrospect as an epitome of Korean history, Korean temperament, and the physical and social relations sustained in the past and at the present time between Korea and Japan. Improvement may confidently be expected in the near future, according as the economical and social forces are combined with the moral and the religious to bear upon the population now[111] adult. But the larger and more permanent hopes for the future depend upon the school-children, who, even to-day, are becoming more intelligent, orderly, and self-controlled than their ancestors ever have been.

Besides Seoul and Pyeng-yang the two most important seaports of Korea, which are Chemulpo and Fusan, were the only places in the peninsula where it seemed possible to arrange for even a single address. An honest attempt was made by a personal visit of the foreign secretary of the Young Men’s Christian Association to “negotiate” an invitation from the Koreans of Song-do, the ancient capital under the dynasty preceding that at present on the throne. But Song-do is an exceedingly conservative city, and the family of Yun Chi-ho is influential there. Thus, even its Korean Christians did not care to hear addresses on matters of morals and religion from a guest of the Japanese Resident-General. It is well to recall again in this connection the fact that, although Pyeng-yang has actually suffered more at the hands of Japanese invaders than any other city of Korea, the influence of the Christian missionaries and their converts was so powerful there that the most sympathetic and crowded native audiences greeted the “friend of Japan” in that city. There, too, in connection with Dr. Noble, presiding elder of the Methodist missions in all that part of the country, I was able to be of most service to both countries in a time of rather unusual threatening and exigency. This fact confirms the impression that, in Seoul, fear of the Court and of the Yang-bans is cramping the work even of the foreign religious teachers. But Chemulpo and Fusan are the[113] places in Korea where the two peoples have been longest in the compelling contact of common business interests. Observation of results in these places had, therefore, some special value. The visit to Fusan came later, and properly belongs to the story of our departure from Korea. But the visit to Chemulpo and its experiences may fitly be spoken of in this place.

The invitation to speak at Chemulpo came from the Japanese Resident and from the Mayor, as official representatives of the educational interests of the city. The affair was, therefore, conducted much more in the familiar Japanese style than were the invitations to speak in Seoul or Pyeng-yang. At the same time, it had been decided that I was to address a Korean audience in Chemulpo, and Dr. Jones had consented to make this possible by the help of his valuable skill in interpretation. It had been arranged that we should meet him and Mr. Zumoto, who was to interpret the address to the Japanese, at the South Gate station for the 11.40 A.M. express. But as the time of leaving approached, it appeared that something was detaining the Doctor; finally we were obliged to go on without him. In person he appeared at Chemulpo in the early afternoon and explained that he had been detained in order to prepare for the funeral of one of the native members of his church; several hours still later, while we were taking tea at the Resident’s house, we were handed (as an example of the despatch with which this service is at present rendered in Korea) the explanatory telegram which had been sent in the early morning.

The fields between Seoul and Chemulpo, on the morning of May 6, 1907, were beautifully green, for the spring rains had been unusually abundant and the crops were correspondingly promising. Combined with the darker green of the pines, and contrasted with the red and yellow of the sand and rocks, they gave back to the eye that more vivid[114] but less soothing pleasure of the Korean landscape to which reference has already been so frequently made. Along this line of railway, as everywhere, there is the same impression of undeveloped agricultural resources; there is also the same temptation to imagine how it will all look in the years to come, when Korea has been lifted out of its low industrial condition.

At the station we were met by the official deputation and escorted to the Japanese Club. The impression made by the streets through which we passed was not pleasing; for there had been rain, the air was laden with cold moisture, and the ground was either rough or torn up for repairs and heavy for the jinrikisha pullers with its coating of mud. But it should be remembered that this part of Chemulpo is in the making, whereas the older part had a few weeks before been swept by a destructive fire. The Chinese town, through which we now passed, bore a decayed air; but when the Japanese quarter was reached, in spite of the recent loss of some 400 houses, there was a thrifty and prosperous look, an appearance of determination, of not-to-mind-what-cannot-be-helped, so characteristic of the people themselves. The work of rebuilding this quarter was going briskly forward.

The population of Chemulpo consisted at that time of some 12,000 Japanese, from 15,000 to 20,000 Koreans, and about 2,000 Chinese (before the Japan-China war the number of the Chinese was about 5,000). There are less than 100 European and American residents. It is hoped by those interested in the business prospects of the city that, after the through all-rail route from Tairen to St. Petersburg is made in all respects first-class—and the consummation of this project will quickly follow under the management of Baron Goto and the Russian authorities, as soon as the commercial treaty between Japan and Russia takes effect—Chemulpo will be an important port of entry for the increasing[115] trade of Korea. But the harborage is now so poor that ships of any considerable size have to lie far out in the offing, and the sand-bars between this anchorage and the wharfs are constantly forming and shifting their location. This coast of Korea is also made very dangerous by numerous rocky islands and sunken reefs, by variable and strong currents, and by one of the highest average tides to be found anywhere in the world. Plans for improving the harbor are, therefore, very important. Right in front of the Chinese hotel where we spent the night, the flats are being filled in, apparently with the double purpose of securing an extension of building lots, and also of shortening somewhat the distance between the city and the shipping at low tide. But the permanent improvement of the harbor of Chemulpo—and this is equivalent to securing one good port of entry for the entire western coast of Korea—offers a difficult problem. Either of the two ways of solving the problem which have hitherto been considered would be exceedingly expensive. To enclose a basin with a sea-wall and shut in the tide-water by gates, or to extend the wharf out some two miles to deep water, would cost many millions of yen.

After an excellent tiffin at the club, where we met some twenty Japanese ladies and gentlemen, I spoke to an audience of not more than one hundred and fifty—of this nationality almost exclusively—but of both sexes. The audience represented the educational and official interests of the city which, as is customary in Japan and elsewhere, are not paramount in places devoted to trade and commerce. Mr. Zumoto interpreted; the ethical and hortatory turn given to the remarks made them, apparently, no less but even more heartily received. I have already called attention to the striking fact that the thoughtful Japanese are becoming more impressed with the truth of the old-fashioned, but not as yet quite defunct, thought that it is, after all, “righteousness[116] which exalteth a nation.” But the Koreans, as a people, have still to awake to the impression that either science or morality has any important bearing on the material and social welfare of the nation’s life. Following the lecture, there was tea at the Residency House; after which we were taken to one of those curious but by no means uncomfortable hostleries which one comes upon in the Far East. It was under the sign of “E. D. Steward & Co., Store. Keeper. & Hotel and Ship. Compradore.” The name “Steward” was assumed by its Chinese owner because he had filled this office on a small steamship for some years before. The advertisement did not at all exaggerate the variety of enterprises carried on under the same extensive roof by this example of a thrifty race. In the rooms over the store the representative of Mr. “Steward” (for we did not learn his true designation, either for this life of business or his “heavenly name”) cared for his guests as well as could reasonably be expected.

Most of the following morning was spent in conversation with Mr. W. D. Townsend, who has been in Korea since May, 1884, when he arrived at Chemulpo to open a branch of the “American Trading Co.” He thus antedates the founding of missionary work in Korea, although Dr. R. S. McClay had visited Seoul in June, 1883, to make arrangements for a mission; and Dr. Horace N. Allen, who afterward served as the representative of the United States Government, reached Korea in the September following. This conversation, continued on during luncheon at Mr. Townsend’s house, gave me incidents and opinions illustrating the problem I was studying as it appears to a shrewd and experienced man of business. Facts and opinions from this point of view were, I believed, no less important and informing than those to be learned from the missionary or the native or foreign official.

In the afternoon I spoke on the “Five Elements of National Prosperity” to an audience of about 600 Koreans, fully half of whom were children, and part of whom kept coming and going. The Japanese Resident, Mr. Kenochi, was present. The quality of the attention and interest did not seem to me to reach the level of the audiences in Seoul; but this was only what was to be expected from the nature of the population and the occupations of the Koreans in Chemulpo. From the church we had a not unpleasant walk to the suburban station, accompanied by a number of the Japanese gentlemen and ladies who felt it their official but friendly duty to see us off for Seoul. On reaching Miss Sontag’s house we dined with the German Consul, Dr. Ney, Mr. Eckert, the skilful trainer of the Korean band, and other German friends, on invitation of our hostess.

With reference to the improvements already accomplished in Korea, and to a considerable extent through Japanese official influence and unofficial example, Mr. Townsend called my attention to the following particulars. Previous to the opening of the country to foreign trade there was no possibility of accumulating wealth in Korea. For, as one of the few thoughtful Koreans had remarked: “If there was a large crop of rice and beans, there was no one to buy it, and it would not keep over for two years. Therefore we ate more and worked less; for what could we do with the surplus but eat it? But when the crops failed, we starved or died of the pest that followed.” It so happened, in fact, that the year after the opening of the country there was a large crop; and now for the first time in the history of Korea, there was not only something to sell but a market for it. There had, indeed, been trade for centuries between the southern part of the country and the adjoining regions of Japan, especially the island of Tsushima. But in this trade Korea parted with its gold, out of which the Japanese themselves were[118] subsequently cheated by the Dutch, who took it off to Holland. Thus neither of the nations in the Far East was enriched in any permanent way; both were the rather impoverished as respects their store of resources for the future.

Under the Japanese, Mr. Townsend was confident—as is every one acquainted with the past and present conditions—that there would soon be a very considerable development of the country’s resources. This would take place especially in the lines of silk-culture, raising rice and beans, and grazing and dairy products. For all these forms of material prosperity the country was by soil and climate admirably adapted. Up to this time the rinderpest had been allowed to ravage the herds unchecked. In a single year it had carried off thousands of bullocks, so that the following spring the entire family of the peasants would have to join forces—men, women, and children—to pull their rude ploughs through the stiff mud. As to the culture of fruit, the outlook did not seem so hopeful. The market was limited; the various pests were unlimited in number of species and individuals, and in voracity. A certain kind of caterpillars eat pine-needles only; and some gentlemen, in order to protect the pine-trees in their yards, were obliged to hire Koreans to pick these pests off the trees, one by one, by the pailful at a time. It seems to me, however, that in time these difficulties may be overcome by the very favorable character of soil and climate for many kinds of fruits, by the possibility of ridding the country of the pests and of improving the already excellent varieties of fruits, and by the development of the canning industry.

As to the effect of the Japanese Protectorate upon the business of foreign firms, Mr. Townsend assured me that the honorable firms were pleased with it and considered it favorable to the extension of legitimate business. Unscrupulous promoters do not, of course, enjoy being checked[119] by the Resident-General in their efforts to plunder the Korean resources. In this conversation with Mr. Townsend I learned the details of one of those dishonorable promoting schemes which have been, and still are, the disgrace of some of the foreign residents in Korea. But this is not the worst of them. They become the disgrace of the countries from which the promoters come, so often as the latter can successfully appeal to the consuls or other diplomatic representatives of their nationals for official support in their nefarious schemes.

The relations, both business and social, between the Japanese and the Koreans in Chemulpo are now much improved. Indeed, there is at present an almost complete absence of race-hatred between the two. Formerly, on some trifling occasion of a quarrel started between a Japanese and a Korean, an angry mob of several hundred on each side would quickly gather; and unless the other foreigners interfered in time, there was sure to be serious fighting and even bloodshed. But the growing number of those belonging to both nations who understand each other’s language and each other’s customs has almost entirely done away with the tendency to similar riots. Indeed, a positive feeling of friendliness is springing up between certain individuals and families of the two nationalities. All of which tends to confirm the statement of another business man—this time of Seoul, where the hatred of the Koreans for the Japanese is studiously kept aglow by Korean officialdom and by selfishly interested foreigners—that in fifty years, or less, no difference would be known between the two. There will then, perhaps, be Koreans boasting of their Japanese descent and Japanese boasting of their Korean descent; and a multitude of the people who will not even raise the question for themselves as to which kind of blood is thickest in their veins. Everywhere on the face of the earth ethnology is teaching the[120] lesson that “purity” of blood is as much a fiction as is the so-called “primitive man.”

According to Mr. Townsend, one cause of the deforestation of so large regions of Korea in former times was the fear of tigers; this fear was, of course, greatly increased by the fact that the Government did not dare to entrust the people with firearms. The tiger-hunters were, it will be remembered, a species of officials who composed the bravest, and oftentimes the only brave, troops in the king’s army. As late as about sixty years ago the principal road to Pyeng-yang from Seoul passed through a stretch of dense forest infested with tigers. As long as the slaughter by these beasts did not average more than one man a week, the people thought it could be borne; but when the number killed in this way rose to one or two a day, they applied to the Tai Won Kun, and permission was given to cut down the forest.

The prevalence of the tiger and also the method of governmental control over their capture and over the sale of their skins is well illustrated by the following amusing story. Recently, a foreigner who was fond of hunting big game, brought a letter of introduction to Mr. Townsend and asked him to negotiate for him with two tiger-hunters for a trip to the region of Mokpo. Knowing well the Korean character as respects veracity, it was necessary for the inquirer to discover in indirect ways whether the men were really courageous and skilful hunters, as well as whether tigers were really to be met in the region over which it was proposed to hunt. Something like the following conversation then took place:—“You claim to be brave tiger-hunters, but have you ever actually killed a tiger?” “Yes, of course, many of them.” “But what are you hunting at the present time?” “Just now we are hunting ducks.” “How much is a tiger worth to you when you succeed in getting one?” “Well, if we can have all there is of him—the skin, the[121] bones” (which, when powdered, make a medicine much prized by the Chinese on account of its supposed efficacy in imparting vigor or restoring strength), “and all the rest, we should make at least 110 yen.” “Why, then, do you hunt ducks which bring you so little, when you might kill tigers, which are worth so much?” “Yes, but if I kill a tiger, the magistrate hears of it and sends for me; and he says: ‘You are a brave man, for you have killed a tiger. You deserve a reward for your courage. Here are five yen; but the tiger, you know, belongs to the Crown, and I will take that in the name of His Majesty.’ Now do you think I am going to risk my life to earn 120 yen for the magistrate, who squeezes me enough anyway, and get only 5 yen for myself?”

“But, tell me truly, are there really tigers to be found in that neighborhood?” “Yes, indeed, there are.” “How do you know that?” “Why, just recently two men of the neighborhood were eaten by tigers.” “Indeed, that is certainly encouraging.” “It may be encouraging for the foreign gentleman who wishes to hunt the tiger, but it was not very encouraging for the Korean gentlemen who were eaten by tigers.” The grim humor of all this will be the better appreciated when it is remembered how omniscient and omnivorous are the Korean magistrates as “squeezers”; and how large the chances of the tiger are against the hunter, when the latter is equipped only with an old-fashioned musket and a slow-burning powder which must be lighted by a fuse.

A story of a quite different order will always attach itself in my memory to the name of Chemulpo. During the Chino-Japan War one of the missionary families, now in Seoul, was living in the part near the barracks where the Japanese soldiers were quartered until they could be sent by sea to the front. One day a petty officer came up on the porch of the house, uninvited; but after accepting gratefully the cup of tea offered to him, being unable to speak any English, he[122] went away, leaving the object of his apparent intrusion quite unexplained. Soon after, however, he returned with some twenty of his comrades, mostly petty officers, accompanying him; and when the hostess was becoming somewhat alarmed at the number for whom she might be expected to furnish tea and cakes, one of the company, who could best express their wishes in the foreign language, revealed the motive of the soldiers’ visit. He explained in broken English that they had come to see the baby—a girl about two years old. The little one was then brought out by the mother and placed in the arms of the speaker, who carried the child along the line formed of his comrades and gave each one a chance to see her, to smile at her, and to say a few words to her in an unknown tongue. On going away, after this somewhat formal paying of respects to “the baby,” the Japanese officer still further explained: “Madam,” said he, “to-morrow morning we are going to the front and we do not expect ever to return. But before we go to die, we wanted to bid good-by to the baby.” In the Russo-Japanese war nothing else so cheered the soldiers of Japan on their way to the transports for Manchuria as the crowds of school-children at all the railway stations, with their flags and their banzais. The number of the regiment to which these soldiers, who bade good-by to the American baby before they went forth to die, was taken note of by the mother. Their expectation came true; they did not return.

The only other excursion by rail from Seoul which we made during our visit to Korea was to attend the formal opening ceremony of the Agricultural and Industrial Model Station at Suwon. The history of its founding is copied from the account of the Seoul Press:

This lengthy account of the founding and progress of the school and station, whose opening ceremonial was to be celebrated on Wednesday, May 15, 1907, is given because of the great importance of the relation which every such enterprise sustains to the lasting success of the Japanese Protectorate and to the welfare of Korea under this Protectorate. Hitherto, the considerable sums of money which have been from time to time obtained from the Korean Government to[125] found and to foster schemes for improved education or industrial development have almost without exception been unfruitful expenditures. The appropriation has either been absorbed by the promoters of the schemes, or if really spent upon the objects for which it was appropriated, both interest and care have ceased with the spending of the money. Even the missionary schools, which have up to very recent times afforded the only means for obtaining the elements of a good modern education—valuable as they have been, especially as means of propagandism—have too often resulted in sending out graduates who, if they could not get the coveted official positions, were fit for nothing else. In Korea, as in India—to take a conspicuous example—the students from these schools have sometimes become rather more practically worthless for the service of their nation, or even positively mischievous, than they could have been if left uneducated. But what Korea now most imperatively needs is educated men, who are not afraid of honest work; men, also, who will not accept official position at the expense of their manly independence and moral character, or gain it by means of intrigue and corruption. But “honest work” must, for a considerable time to come, be chiefly connected with the agricultural and industrial development of the country. Moreover, the institution at Suwon is demonstrating that the Koreans can make good students and skilful practitioners in the, to them, new sciences which give control over nature’s resources for the benefit of man. The Confucian education hitherto dominant in this country has chiefly resulted in cultivating scholars who either sacrificed usefulness in service to the false sentiment of honor, or else subordinated the most fundamental principles of morality to that skill in official positions which secured the maximum of squeezes with the minimum of resistance. And, finally, nothing so undermines and destroys race-hatred as the prolonged association[126] of the two races in the peaceable relations of teacher and pupil; or of teachers and pupils with their respective colleagues.

Six car-loads of invited guests, belonging to all classes of the most influential people of Seoul and Chemulpo, left the South-Gate Station on a special train at one and a half o’clock, on that Wednesday afternoon, for Suwon. Marquis Ito and his staff, and other Japanese officials, Korean Ministers and their guards, all the foreign Consuls, the principal men of business, representatives of the press, and Christian missionaries were of the party. The day was warm, but fine; the landscape was even more beautiful in its coloring than usual. On arrival at the station of Suwon, the guests were met by the Minister and Vice-Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, by Dr. Honda, the director of the Model Station, and others, who escorted them on foot over a newly made road through the paddy fields belonging to the station. It did not need an expert eye to see the immense difference, as regards economy of arrangement and efficiency of culture, between these fields and the relatively uneconomically arranged and unproductive fields along the railway by which we had passed as we came to Suwon.

The Agricultural School and Station are beautifully located; the lake, which has been made by damming a stream, with the plain under improved cultivation, and the surrounding mountains, all combine to produce a charming scene. On reaching the Model Station itself a brief time for rest was allowed; this could be improved by those who wished to inspect the rooms where the specimens were displayed, and the laboratories of various kinds. The ceremonial proceedings were opened by the director, Dr. Honda, who reported the progress already made and defined the work which was to be attempted for the future. The work was to consist in the improvement of the quality of the seeds, the introduction[127] and acclimatization of new varieties of farm products, the instruction of the farmers, the supply of manures, the effecting of improved irrigation, drainage, and protection against inundation, the improvement of poultry and dairy farming, the introduction and encouragement of sericulture, and the securing of more by-products on the farms.

After a few words from Mr. Song, the Korean Minister of Agriculture, Marquis Ito made a somewhat lengthy address. He spoke frankly in criticism of the failures which the Korean Government had hitherto made in its various attempts to accomplish anything for improving the miserable lot of the toiling millions of the Korean people. “Not only had nothing been done to ameliorate their condition, but much had been done to injure their interests and aggravate their miseries. Let those who boasted of their knowledge of Chinese philosophy remember the well-known teaching that the secret of statesmanship consists in securing the contentment of the people.” His Excellency then referred to the example of the great Okubo in Japan, who founded an agricultural college there in 1875, spoke of the brilliant results which had followed this improved instruction and practice, and hoped that the Korean officials, in whose charge this well-equipped institution was now placed, would make it equally useful to the Korean people.

The ceremonial part of the day was closed by an address by Mr. Kwon, the Minister of War, who had formerly been, although, as he confessed, without any knowledge of such matters, head of the Department of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry. It was indeed fourteen years since a department had been founded for the improvement of agriculture; but “nothing worth speaking of had been initiated by that department.” After spending 170,000 yen on the station, Japan had kindly consented to turn it over to the Korean Government. He was hopeful that the change already[128] beginning to be felt in the interests of the farming population of his country would in the near future result in a large improvement in their condition. [It does not need to be said to those acquainted with the way in which such projects for developing the resources of Korea have hitherto been conducted, that both the grave rebuke of Marquis Ito and the confessions of the Korean Ministers are amply warranted.]

The ceremony concluded, refreshments were served in and about an old and historically interesting Korean building, which is situated a few rods below the farm station and just above the nearer end of the dam. After this, the whole company walked back to the railway by a road laid out on the back of the dam, which is shaded with young trees and made attractive by views of lake, fertile plains, and hillsides and mountains in the distance on every side. On the plain below the dam some Koreans were holding a pantomimic celebration, or merry-making, of the sort which it is their custom to commit to hired bands of men skilful in affording this species of amusement. On the hillsides at the end of the dam, and above the track of the railway, hundreds of other Koreans—adults in glistening white and children in colors of varied and deepest dyes—were quietly enjoying the scene. When the train stopped at the point nearest the end of the pleasant walk, it was, I am sure, a well satisfied crowd of guests which returned by it to Seoul.

With this ceremony at Suwon another which I had previously attended in Seoul naturally connects itself. This was the opening of the Industrial Training School, the initial outlay for which, including the cost of buildings and apparatus, amounted to a little more than 110,000 yen. The significance of this enterprise will be the better understood when it is remarked that the native workmen of to-day make nothing whatever, with the exception of a few cheap brasses and the attractive Korean chests, that any[129] foreigner would be inclined to buy. Moreover, their own tools and machinery of every description are exceedingly crude and old-fashioned. At the ceremony in Seoul addresses were made similar to those listened to at the Suwon affair. Mr. Yamada, the principal of the Institute, reported that out of the eleven hundred applicants who had presented themselves for examination, fifty students had been admitted. Marquis Ito and the Korean speakers dwelt upon the same facts—namely, the deplorable backwardness of the nation in industrial matters, the unsatisfactory results of past endeavors at improvement, and the needs and hopes of the future. After the addresses, the guests visited the different workshops, where the Korean students were to be given manual training; and then resorted to the sides of the mountain above, where refreshments were served. The decorative features of the festivities—consisting of the Korean crowds on the upper mountain sides, the uniformed officials in and around the refreshment booths, and the brilliant bloom of the cherry bushes and plum trees—were even more striking than at Suwon. On this occasion it was my pleasure to receive a cordial greeting from some of the Korean officials, among whom was the Minister of the Interior, the cousin of the Governor at Pyeng-yang. It was evident that he had heard from his cousin of the assistance rendered directly by the missionaries and indirectly by me, in the way of quieting the excited condition of the Korean population at the time of our visit.

If official corruption can be kept aloof from these enterprises, and an honest and intelligent endeavor made to carry out the plans of the Japanese Government under Marquis Ito for the agricultural and industrial development of Korea, there is little reason to doubt that a speedy and great improvement will result. That the Korean common people, in spite of their characteristic air of indifference and their[130] appearance of indolence, can be stirred with ambition, and that when aroused they will make fairly industrious and apt learners, there is, in my judgment, no good reason to deny. The experience of the “Seoul Electric Railway,” and of other similar enterprises, favors this judgment. Not to speak of the financial methods of this company, and after admitting that the physical condition of its property and the character of its service leave much to be desired, it has been, on the whole, successful in demonstrating the possibility of conducting such business enterprises by means of Korean labor. Mr. Morris, its manager, who came to Seoul in July, 1899, told me the interesting story of his earlier experiences. The working of the road during the first years of its running was accompanied by enormous difficulties. Neither the passengers, nor the motormen and the conductors had any respect for the value of time; most of the employees had even to learn how to tell time by their watches. The populace thought it proper for the cars to stop anywhere, and for any length of period which seemed convenient to them. If the car did not stop, the passengers made a mad rush for it and attempted to jump on; they also jumped off wherever they wished, whether the car stopped or not. This practice resulted in serious bruises and fractured skulls as an almost daily occurrence. Native pedestrians in the streets of Seoul were not content to walk stolidly and with a dignified strut (which is still the habit of the Korean before an approaching Japanese jinrikisha) along the track in the daylight, with the expectation that the car would go around them; but at evening they utilized the road-bed by lying down to sleep on the track with their heads on boards placed across its rails. One dark night in the first summer three men were killed by the last trip between the river and the city. In those days the broad thoroughfare, which is now kept open for its entire length, was greatly narrowed by rows of booths and “chow”[131] shops on either side. Here the men from the country would tie their ponies (the Korean pony is notable for his vicious temper when excited) to the tables, and, reclining upon the same tables, would proceed to enjoy their portion of food. When the electric car came through the centre of the street, the beasts went wild with fright; sometimes they dashed into the shops; sometimes they fled down the street dragging the tables and scattering “chow” and men in every direction. At one place the line to the river runs over a low hill which is, in the popular superstition, a part of the body of the rain-bringing Dragon. In a dry season the people became greatly excited and threatened violence to those who had brought upon them the calamity of drought by such sacrilege done to the body of this deity. Mr. Morris had himself fled for his life before a Korean mob who were ready to tear him in pieces to avenge the killing of a child by the car. At the present time, however, there were fewer accidents in Seoul than on the electric car-lines of Japan; and many fewer than those from the same cause in the larger cities of the United States. In one of the more recent years they had carried 6,000,000 passengers and had only killed one. This is certainly not a bad record; for while, on the one hand, the service of the road is relatively slow and infrequent, on the other hand, in Seoul there are no sidewalks and the streets are thronged with foot-passengers and with children at play.

One other excursion from Seoul is, perhaps, worthy of record as throwing some sidelights upon Korea—this time, however, chiefly an affair of recreation. This was the ascent of Puk Han, the ancient place of royal refuge in cases of revolt or foreign invasion. The party consisted of Mr. Cockburn, the British Consul-General; Mr. Davidson, the successor of J. McLeavy Brown in the Department of Customs; Dr. and Mrs. Wm. B. Scranton, and Madam Scranton,[132] the mother of the Doctor. Mr. Cockburn and Mr. Davidson made the ascent as far as was possible in jinrikishas, and the rest of the party in chairs carried by four or six coolies each. By the longer way out which the party took, there was, however, much walking (but no hard climbing) to do; and by the shorter way home, with its much steeper descent, there was little besides walking which could safely be done by any one.

The actual start was preceded by the customary bargaining with the coolies. This resulted in reducing by one-half the original charge—only to find the head man applying late in the evening after our return for an additional “present” direct from me, in reliance on my ignorance of the fact that a handsome present had already been given through the friend who made the arrangement. But, then, such squeezes are not confined to Korea in the Far East, nor are they peculiar to the Far East and infrequent in London, Paris, and New York.

Under “Independence Arch,” where, as we have already seen, the promise of a new and really independent Korea is built into the form of a monument of stone, the whole party were photographed. At a small village some three miles from Seoul, the coolies made another stop; here they received their first advance of money for “chow.” In the street of the village was standing one of those gorgeous palanquins which serve as biers, and which give the lifeless body of the poorest Korean his one ride in state to the hillsides where the tombs of the dead hold the ground against the fields needed for cultivation by the living. But these hillsides at least serve the living to some good purpose as preferred places for recreation and for intercourse with nature, as well as, in some sort, with their deceased ancestors. In Korea, as in India, birth, marriage, and death are expensive luxuries for the poor; to get into the world, to beget an[133] heir, and to get out of the world again, absorb all the accumulated resources of a lifetime of toil for the average Korean. Surely, under such circumstances, “the will to live” lays itself open to the charge of Schopenhauer—that it is blind and working ever to the production of increased misery. Industrial development, firmly coupled with improved morality, and with the cheer and hopes of an elevating religion, as a true “psychical uplift,” are the only sufficient cure for such pessimistic tendencies.

Among the several attempts at photographing made on the way to Puk Han, were some intended to catch one of the numerous Korean children who appeared puris in naturalibus. These were uniformly unsuccessful. Pictures of this characteristic sort were not to be had by us foreigners, although the attempts were supported by the offer of sizable coins. At the first motion to point the camera toward these features of the landscape, they took to their heels and fled afar with urgent precipitancy.

Within perhaps two miles of the Outer Gate of the mountain Fortress we were obliged to dismount, the way having become too rough and difficult even for chairs with four coolies each. Puk Han’s wall was built in 1711; although there is a not altogether improbable tradition that the mountain, which is somewhat more than 2,000 feet high, was fortified long before, under the Pakje kingdom. The gate through which one enters the walled enclosure is picturesque and interesting. Not far inside the wall, across a little valley, are to be seen the solid stone foundations of the new Buddhist temple which is to take the place of one that was destroyed by fire. This is one of several indications that the introduction of modern civilization and of Christian missions is to be followed in Korea, as it certainly has been followed in Japan and elsewhere, by a revival of the spirit, and an improvement in the form and efficacy, of the older religion of[134] the country. Buddhism has, indeed, been for centuries largely lacking in all moral force and spiritual satisfactions in Korea. But I cannot agree with those who are so sure that it is not capable of revival there, of improvement, and even of offering a vigorous competition to Christian evangelizing.

As we climbed up toward the pavilion in which we were to take our luncheon, we saw few ruins of the structures which were once scattered over the area within the mountain’s wall; but everywhere was an abundance of beautiful wild flowers and flowering shrubs. Among the many varieties were wigelia, cypripedium, several kinds of iris, Solomon’s-seal, syringa, hydrangea, giant saxifrage, large white clematis, hawthorne, jassamine, lilies of the valley, many kinds of violets and azaleas, wild white roses, viburnum, Allegheny vine, and wild cherry.

About twenty minutes before we reached the pavilion where it was proposed to spread out our luncheon, great drops of rain caused us to quicken our pace; and the following smart shower which crept by the brow of the overhanging mountain, in spite of the protection of our umbrellas, gave the party somewhat of a wetting before shelter was reached. But soon the rain was over; the sun came gloriously out; the mountain stream which was just below the outer wall of the pavilion ran fuller and more merrily; and the food was more comforting in contrast with the slight preceding discomfort.

Lying in the sun on a shelving rock, I had an interesting conversation with the English Consul-General. In the course of this Mr. Cockburn expressed the amazement of his country at what he graciously called the “patience” of Americans in putting up so quietly with political and social wrongs which the English had refused any longer to suffer, now nearly a century ago. He seemed sincerely gratified at my assurance that the feeling of the United States toward[135] England is more cordial and appreciative of our common good and common mission in the world than was the case twenty-five and thirty years ago. I found myself also in hearty agreement with his view that the treaty between Great Britain and Japan, whether it should prove of commercial advantage to the former, or not, was fruitful of good to the latter nation, to the Far East, and to mankind as interested in the world’s peace.

At about four o’clock the party started on its return to Seoul. The distance was some ten miles, most of which must be walked, by a rather steep descent in places over barren surfaces of granite rock. But the path at first led us still higher up the mountain until, having passed through an inner gate, we reached the outer wall upon the other side of the whole enclosure. For as much of the slope of Puk Han, as somewhat more than two miles of rambling wall can embrace, constitutes this fortified retreat of the Korean monarchy. Thus, with its stores of provisions and implements of war, the cultivated fields, palaces, and other official and unofficial residences inside, it was intended that Puk Han, like its somewhat earlier colleague, the fortresses of Kang Wha, should resist siege by any numbers and for any length of time. But from prehistoric times to Port Arthur, and all over the earth from Sevastopol to Daulatabad, the experiences of history have shown how vain is the hope of the rulers of men to ward off the results of moral and political degeneracy by walls of stone and implements of iron.

Far away on the very top of the mountain, to the left of our path, stood a watch-tower which commanded a view of all this part of Korea. From both of the gates in this portion of the wall, which, although they are only a short distance apart, look toward different points of the compass, the views are extensive and charming. To the southward one could look down the steep mountain side, over a valley[136] from which rose rocky but brilliantly colored hills, bare for the most part of foliage, and through which the silvery thread of the River Han wound its way, upon a series of mountain ranges bounded only by the horizon. From the Western gate were to be seen Chemulpo and its island-dotted harbor, and beyond the open sea.

The downward path of Puk Han winds around the mountain, from the Southern gate in the wall toward the northwest; and although it is quite too steep and rough for safe descent in chairs, it is not particularly difficult for those who walk it with sound knee-joints and ordinarily careful and judicious feet. For the first five or six miles it affords an uninterrupted series of interesting and beautiful views. Here the colors of the rock, when seen in full sunlight, were trying for all but the most insensitive eyes. But as the light was modified by the occasional passing of clouds, or by the changes in the relation of the path to the points of the compass, the effect was kaleidoscopic in character on a magnificent scale. On this side of the mountain the shapes of the rocks are peculiar. In general, each mountain-ridge—supreme, subordinate, or still inferior—is composed of a series of pyramidally-shaped granite structures, rising higher and higher as to their visible summits; but with their sides welded, as it were, together, and their surfaces of disintegrated yellowish or reddish rock. Between the sides of the pyramids in each series, and between the different series, and between the higher ranges composed of the series, are dry ravines, down which the summer rains descend in torrents, keeping the slopes of all these rocky elevations almost bare of verdure. Thus there is produced an aspect of severe grandeur quite out of proportion to the real height of the mountains. But this aspect is relieved by an abundant growth of wild flowers and flowering shrubs—such as have been already named and still others—with more gorgeous blossoms than I have anywhere[137] else seen produced by the same species. With these the ladies filled all hands, and all the luncheon baskets—and then even the chairs, which, however, we took again as soon as it became practicable, to the relief of feet and knees; and thus we entered the city by the North-West Gate, where we stopped awhile to rest the men and to enjoy the magnificent view of Seoul from the inside of the gate.

The excursion up Puk Han will certainly be remembered by some of the party as one of the most enjoyable to be obtained anywhere. It far surpasses most of those much-lauded by the guide-books in other more frequented but really less rewarding portions of the world.

If time had permitted, by turning aside an hour or two, the ascent of Puk Han might have been varied by a visit to the “Great White Buddha.” This rather interesting relic of a long-time decaying, but possibly now to be revived, Buddhism, I visited one morning in company with Mr. Gillett. The path to it leaves the main road some miles out of the city; where it begins to wind through the paddy fields it becomes somewhat difficult for jinrikishas. On the way one passes shrines such as are used not infrequently for the now forbidden exorcising ceremonies of the sorceresses, and heaps of stones that are continually being piled upon by the passers along the way, who wish thus to propitiate the spirits and to obtain good luck. The Buddha itself is a large and rudely-shaped figure, whitewashed on to the face of a rock, which has been escarped and covered with a pavilion, having a highly decorative frieze and a roof set on granite pillars. A few women were there worshipping in the manner common to the ignorant populace in Korea and Japan—i. e., clapping the hands, offering a small coin or two, and mumbling a prayer. A dirty, disreputable-looking priest was assiduously gathering up the coins, for they had merely been placed upon a table before the Buddha, instead of being thrown into an[138] enclosed box. He volunteered the explanation that this was the most celebrated place in all Korea at which to offer effective prayer for a son; childless women, and also men, came from all over the land to worship at this shrine. In Korea, as well as in India and China, this vulgar and degrading superstition is connected with ancestor worship—namely, that the welfare of the living and the dead, in this world and in the next, is somehow inseparably bound up with begetting and bearing, or somehow possessing, a male descendant. No heavier curse is put on woman; no subtler form of temptation to lust for man; no more burdensome restriction on society; and no more efficient check to a spiritual faith and a spiritual development exists among the civilized peoples of the world than this ancient but unworthy superstition. Even devil-worship is scarcely less cruel and socially degrading.

It was with sincere regret that I left Korea without the opportunity to see the country even more widely, to feel more profoundly the spirit of its national life, and to become more acquainted in a relatively “first-hand” way with its history and its antiquities. I was confident that I had gained sufficient trustworthy information to judge fairly of the character of the native government—Emperor and Court and Yang-bans—to estimate in a measure the difficulties which encompassed the position of the Resident-General, and to appreciate the sincerity and self-sacrificing nature of his plans and the value of his achievements. But there are few countries in the world to-day where richer rewards await the expert and patient investigator of history and of antiquities. The history of Korea remains to be written; its antiquities are there to be explored.

Soon after breakfast on the morning of the day before our stay in Seoul came to an end (Monday, May 27th), a telephone message was reported with the inquiry whether we expected to be at home at ten o’clock. Contrary to the understanding of the servant who brought the report, it proved to be Marquis Ito himself who, accompanied by General Murata, had kindly taken the time from his always busy morning hours to call in person and bid his guests good-by. Speaking with his customary quiet deliberation, brevity, and sincerity, His Excellency thanked me for the services rendered to him and to his nation, both directly and indirectly, by the visit to Korea; and the words which added a promise of continued friendship will always remain among the choicest of memories. In reply—with more adequate reason but with no less sincerity and earnestness—I thanked the Marquis for the confidence he had reposed in me, and as well for the experience which his invitation had furnished. If I had been of some small service, I had received a much more than adequate reward in the opportunity of seeing an interesting side of human life which had hitherto been, for the most part, unfamiliar to me. I also expressed my belief in a universal and omnipotent Spirit of Righteousness, who shapes the destinies of men and of nations, and who uses us all in His service—if we so will—to our own real well-being and to the good of humanity. God has so bound together[140] Japan and Korea, both physically and politically, that their interests cannot be separated, whether for weal or for woe.

In the afternoon of the same day, at the house of Mr. D. W. Stevens, whose hospitality we had before enjoyed and whose friendship we had learned highly to prize, we met at tea some twenty-five of the most intimate of the acquaintances made during the previous two months. This was not, however, our final leave-taking of these friends. For the next morning at 8.50, at the South-Gate Station, most of the same persons gathered to give us one of those partings which one would not gladly miss, but which are always a mixture of sad pleasure and sweet pain. The insight of the Japanese language into such human experiences is shown by the fact that it has a single word which combines all these complex elements, and expresses them in itself. Nor do I find that the repetition of many such experiences in different far-away lands at all changes the intrinsic character of the feelings they excite. To make friends away from home is the traveller’s choicest pleasure; to part soon from these friends is the traveller’s keenest pain.

The journey from Seoul to Fusan was without incident and accomplished on time. As furnishing a change in the character of the surroundings, it is almost equivalent to going from Korea to Japan. For Fusan is essentially a Japanese city, and has been such for many years. The greeting given us on arrival was also characteristically Japanese. There, on the platform, were thirty or more of both sexes, including the Resident and other officials, whose cards were handed to us with such speed and profusion that to recognize names was impossible, and even to avoid dropping some of the pieces was difficult. The harbor launch again served us, as it had done before, for transportation between railroad station and Japanese settlement. Only twenty minutes were allowed for effecting a presentable appearance[141] after the day’s travel; and then we were ushered to the dining-room, where about fifty persons had gathered for a complimentary banquet. After this, the Resident introduced, welcomed, and proposed a toast for the guests, and Mr. Zumoto interpreted the response. The banquet finished, there followed, in another part of the hotel, an entertainment of juggling, a farce, and dancing to samisen and koto—all by amateur performers. The day had certainly, when it ended, been sufficiently full of incident. But a real old-fashioned Japanese bath, in a deliciously soft wooden tub, with water at 108° Fahrenheit—the first I had been able to obtain during this visit to Japan—took away all soreness of flesh and weariness of spirit, and secured a good night’s rest.

The following morning in Fusan was dull and unpromising—there was drizzle, cloud, and fog over land and sea, and a fresh breeze. In spite of the weather, however, we were taken in jinrikishas to the villa of Mr. Kuruda, one of the oldest of the Japanese settlers, a prosperous commission merchant and manufacturer of saké. This villa is seated on the mountain’s side and is surrounded by as fine an example of a certain style of Japanese gardening as I have ever seen. Here is a profusion of artistic rock arrangement, decorated with shrubs and flowers, for the most part brought from Japan, and marking out ponds, paths, and favored points of view from which can be had glimpses of the charming harbor and surrounding hills. The owner was proud to have us know that Marquis Ito makes the villa his home when journeying between Korea and Japan. Among other objects of interest in the garden is a huge boulder which fell from the mountain’s side some twenty years ago; near this the owner of the garden has chosen his last resting-place, and upon it the proper inscription has already been prepared.

After leaving the villa we were shown over one of the public schools which has been founded for the children of Japanese[142] residents, and were bidden to notice how its reports showed the high average attendance of from 93 per cent. to 98 per cent., and even above, in the different grades, for the entire year. Next came a visit to a private school for girls, which is under the patronage of Japanese ladies, and which gives an education of a more distinctly domestic type. Here we were served with an excellent luncheon in foreign style, cooked by the pupils of the school; during and after which there was an entertainment consisting of tableaux vivants and a musical performance that might best be described as a trio of kotos with a violin obligato. One of these tableaux represented three young girls defending a castle wall with bow and arrow—a scene corresponding to actual events of history; for, in fact, the loyalty of certain clans in the north of Japan carried them to such extremes in support of the Tokugawa dynasty. Indeed, through many centuries, Japanese women and girls have been far braver and more loyal in defence of their liege lord than Korean men have been.

From this school we were taken to the park on the mountain, with its trees brought from Tsushima some two hundred years ago, to which reference has already been made (p. 15) as the only one in all Korea. The Shinto temple upon the hill-top is equally old, and was originally dedicated to no fewer than nine different divinities—the goddess, Amaterasu (the “Heaven-Shiner,” or Sun-goddess), born from the left eye of the Creator Izanagi, whose principal shrine is now at Ise, being the chief.

The lecture of the afternoon was given to an audience of about six hundred, upon a topic selected by those who had extended the invitation. This topic was “The Necessity of an Improved Commercial Morality”; it was expected that the speaker would enforce and illustrate the thought by the situation at the present time in Korea, and by an appeal to Japanese patriotism to show their nation worthy of setting[143] a good example, and capable of accomplishing the task of industrial development and political redemption in the land which was now so dependent upon Japan for its future. Mrs. Ladd also said a few words expressing her interest in what we had seen in the morning illustrating the education given to Japanese girls in Fusan, and also the hope that something similar might soon be possible for their Korean sisters. The heartiness with which these suggestions were received in this, the principal Japanese settlement of the Peninsula, shows that the better classes of settlers are honorably sensitive to the obligation to redeem the fair fame of their nation from the injury which it has received in the past at the hands of the inferior and baser elements of their own countrymen.

That this determination was not beyond reasonable hope of speedy realization was made more evident to me by conversation with the agent of the Transportation Company operating between Shimonoseki and Fusan. A careful investigation of its records had revealed the fact that for some months past about 200 Japanese passengers were, on the average, daily coming into Korea, and only about 150 returning from Korea to Japan. Of the fifty who, presumably, remained as settlers, about one-half chose for their home either the city of Fusan or the surrounding country; the other half went by rail inland, chiefly to Seoul and Chemulpo. There had also been of late an obvious change in the character and intention of these immigrants. Formerly, they were largely young fellows of the type of adventurers; but now the old people, and the women and children, were coming with the men—an indication that their business was no temporary venture, but a purpose to remain and make homes for themselves. When it is understood that these figures are exclusive of the Japanese military and civil officials, they compare very closely with the results of the census taken just[144] before our departure. On taking passage from Shimonoseki to Fusan we had noticed that the passengers which crowded and overflowed the second- and third-class cabin accommodations of the steamer appeared to be very decent folk. Many of them had brought along, not only their luggage, but also their agricultural implements and mechanic’s tools. But the subject of Japanese settlement in Korea, and its effect upon both countries concerned, is so important as to deserve further discussion of such statistics as are now available.

We went on board the Iki Maru early enough to avoid the crowd that would come by the afternoon train from Seoul. After bidding good-by to the score of ladies and gentlemen who had come down to the wharf to see us off, there was time for dinner before the steamer sailed. As we watched the retreating shores of Korea, we remembered the morning of two months before when these shores had first come into view. It was Japanese friends who had then welcomed us—the same friends who had just bidden us farewell. But between the two experiences lay a busy period of work and of observation which had resulted in making more friends, Japanese and foreign, in Korea itself. But how about the Koreans themselves; had we won, even to the beginnings of real and constant friendly feeling, any among their number? I was unable confidently to say. The Koreans are spoken of, by the missionaries especially, as notably kind and affectionate in disposition and easily attached to the foreigner by friendly ties. By the diplomats and business men they are, for the most part, distrusted and despised. As the guests of Marquis Ito, it was not strange that we did not quickly gain any assurance of genuine and trustworthy friendliness on their part. But this, too, is a subject which requires consideration from a more impersonal point of view. For there is something startling in the wide divergencies, and[145] even sharp antagonisms, of the estimates of Korean character which any serious and disinterested inquiry evokes.

The night of May 29th was rough, and our ship rolled considerably while crossing the straits between Korea and Japan. But by early morning we were in smooth water. The likenesses and the contrasts of the two countries were even more impressive than they had been when we first landed in Fusan and passed on to Seoul. Soil and landscape, as unmodified by man, are in this part of Japan almost exactly similar to southern Korea. Indeed, geologically speaking, they are the same continent; at one time in the past they were doubtless physically united. But how different the two countries at the present time, in respect of all the signs of human activity and human enterprise! Our Japanese companion explained the prosperity of this part of his native land as growing out of the nature of its early history. Prince Mori was formerly lord of all this part of Japan, nearly as far eastward as Hiogo. When driven by Hideyoshi to its western extremity, he had taken with him a large number of his best retainers. Their support in the two or three districts which he was still allowed to retain became at once a most difficult practical problem. But it was solved by stimulating the farmers and the trading classes to the highest possible activity in improving the natural resources, which were by no means unusually great in this part of Japan. Thus it was the men who made the country rich, and not the country that made the men rich. One other illustration of the characteristically different spirit of the two countries was mentioned in the same connection. At one time when Hideyoshi was making war upon Prince Mori, he was called back by a rebellion in his own rear. One of his most devoted friends and adherents had been murdered by the rebels. Whereupon, Hideyoshi summoned his enemy, told him frankly the truth as to the necessity of his abandoning[146] for the present his intention to deprive him of all his dominions, and suggested that the time would be opportune for the Prince to recover much of his lost ancestral estate. But Prince Mori declined to take advantage of Hideyoshi’s necessity, since the latter was going, as in knightly-honor bound, to avenge the death of a friend.

On coming to anchor in the harbor of Shimonoseki we found the superintendent of the port ready with his launch to convey us to the shore. After an hour at the hotel, during which the chief of police made an official call to pay his respects and give us additional assurance that we were to be well protected, we parted at the train, with sincere regret, from the Japanese friend who had so kindly arranged all for our comfort during our two months in Korea.

The appearance of the country along the western end of the Sanyo Railway on this last day of May, 1907, fully confirmed the account of the character and the policy of the men who, since the time of Hideyoshi, have developed it. The views of the sea on the right-hand side of the train cannot easily be surpassed anywhere in the world. On the other side, the fields in the valleys, and the terraces on the hills, constitute one almost continuous, highly cultivated garden for more than one hundred miles. The tops of the mountains, except in a few unfavorable spots, are covered with forests of thickly-set and varied arborage. The comparatively damp climate of Japan covers with that exquisite soft haze which the Japanese artists appreciate so highly and reproduce so well, the same kind of soil and of rocks which shine out so bright and strong in their coloring across the straits in Korea.

In the train, my next neighbor on my right—a big German who smoked strong cigars incessantly, and who said that he had been in the Orient for forty years—declared unhesitatingly that the people of Japan, outside of a certain portion of a few cities where foreign influences had operated most strongly,[147] were all savages to-day, as they were when the country was first opened to Western civilization. When he was reminded that the percentage of children in actual attendance in the public schools was much larger than in the United States, and at least equal to the most favored parts of Germany, he replied that the children were never really being taught in school, but always to be seen out of doors, going through some kind of “fanatics” or gymnastics! It is no wonder that this comment elicited no reply. But the picture of the more than a score of thousands of eager and attentive teachers and students to whom I had spoken—not by way of occasional, popular speeches, but in courses of lectures and addresses on serious themes—left me unconvinced. Nor was the remark attributed to the inferior insight of his own nation, whose scholastic training for diplomatic service has been superior to that of other countries, and whose commercial education is fast approaching the same grade of excellence. But it was another lesson in the purely external and untrustworthy character of the prevailing knowledge of the Far East, its people, their excellences and their faults; and, per contra, of the only way reasonably to estimate and effectually to attain friendly relations with men in general and with Oriental peoples in particular. The views of the “old resident”—missionary, diplomat, or business man—as such, are of little or no value. This is especially true as touching the relations of Japan and Korea.

Before leaving Seoul I ventured to send to His Imperial Majesty of Korea, through one of his most intimate, devoted, and consistent friends of long standing, a message that should embody some of my impressions regarding his own best interests and the essential conditions for the future welfare of his country. I had already frequently addressed his people with great plainness, relying upon an implied confidence in the sincerity of their monarch’s words, spoken at the time of my audience at the Court. It will be remembered (see p. 46) that the Emperor had then said: “He was glad to learn I had come to instruct his people in right ways”; “he hoped they would open their minds to enlightenment and to modern ideas”; he wished “my addresses would contribute to their progress.” The speaker had, therefore, not only royal permission but that request, which, according to the etiquette of this and other Eastern courts, is the equivalent of a command, when he warned his Korean audiences that the real prosperity of their country could not be obtained by intrigue and assassination, but only by cultivating the industries and arts, by improving education, and by regulating their conduct according to the unchanging principles of a pure morality and a truly spiritual religion. Moreover, it should be remembered that, while Oriental monarchs are accustomed to think of themselves as entitled to rule without regard to constitutional restrictions and in defiance of control[149] by any legal code, the Confucian ethics requires them to submit patiently to rebuke and exhortation, on moral grounds. It also exalts the position of the teacher of practical philosophy (or ethics) to the highest rank in the service of the State. Nor had I forgotten the earnest words of the aged Japanese physician at a banquet held on the evening of the preceding 11th of February, in the city of Osaka, by which the one hundred and fifty leading citizens assembled there were reminded that, when the ancient Oriental teacher and the modern teacher from the West agree in the doctrine—“It is righteousness which exalteth a nation”—their agreement is significant of the important conclusion that the doctrine is true. It did not seem improper, therefore, to call his Majesty’s attention to the rocks just ahead, directly for which, under the piloting of evil domestic and foreign counsellors, he was steering the ship of State.

The message emphasized especially the following particulars. Inasmuch as Japan had already fought one internal and two foreign wars, at a cost of millions of treasure and thousands of lives, on account of the political weakness and misrule of Korea, it could not possibly, with a wise regard either for its own interests or for those of the Korean people themselves, allow the repetition of similarly disastrous events. The two nations must learn to live together in amity and with their common interests guarded against invasion and injury from without. History had amply shown that this end could not be secured under existing conditions by Korea alone. The most sacred obligations, not only of self-interest, but also of a truly wise regard for the Emperor and his subjects, bound the Japanese Government to establish and maintain its protectorate over Korea.

Further: no foreign nation, least of all my own, whose constitution and traditional practice forbade such a thing, was at all likely to intervene between Japan and Korea.[150] Those counsellors who had led him to hope for such intervention were deceiving him; and the money which he had contributed to their schemes was not simply spent in vain; it was beguiled from him to his own hurt and to the great injury of his own people, who needed that every yen of it should be judiciously expended upon developing the resources of the country and improving their own material condition.

From these points of view, which had regard chiefly, or even solely, to the interests of the crown and the Korean nation, I regarded the Resident-General as Korea’s best friend; and also—if the Emperor would have it so—his own best friend. Of Marquis Ito’s sincere and intelligent interest in Korea, no one who knew him could have the slightest doubt; the Emperor must see that the Marquis, as Resident-General, was in a position of power. To act truthfully and sincerely in his relations with this powerful friend, and to co-operate with his endeavors at the improvement of the national condition, would, then, be his own best way to secure for his people “instruction in right ways,” “the opening of their minds to enlightenment and modern ideas,” and an effective “contribution to their progress.”

Moreover, it must be remembered that there had been for centuries, and there were still, two parties in Japan, with reference to the proper treatment of Korea. One was the party which favored friendship between the two countries and a peaceful development of the interests so important to them both; the other was the party of the strong hand, which was always urging the immediate application of the most drastic measures. If it seemed desirable at any time for Japan to do so, the latter party was ready for subjugation of the country by the military and for putting it under military control. Marquis Ito had always been one of the foremost leaders of the party of peace; he had indeed risked not only his reputation as a far-seeing statesman, but even his personal[151] safety and his life, in behalf of the peaceful policy. Let His Majesty carefully reflect upon what it would mean for him and for his country for the present peaceful plans of the Japanese Government, under the present Resident-General, to prove unavailing for their difficult task.

But if His Majesty continued to fail of an appreciation of the real situation, if he persisted in trusting those who were deceiving him with vain hopes and robbing him and the nation of its resources and its opportunity, I had the gravest fears that ruin would follow for him and for his house; and then great increase of trouble for the people of the land. All this I wished to say to him, not at all as a politician or as a diplomat, but as a teacher of morals and an observer of human affairs. Nor did I speak on account of my friendship for Marquis Ito simply; and not at all by His Excellency’s instigation or request. I was moved by a sincere desire to see Korea really prosperous and, if it might be so, to contribute in some small way to the instruction, enlightenment, and progress of its people.

This message was in due time faithfully transmitted to the Emperor of Korea, and was listened to with attention and apparently with the same friendly spirit with which it was sent. Its reception was followed by the “sincere (?) promise to heed its injunctions and with a protestation of respect and affection for Marquis Ito.” This is His Majesty’s habit when he is not excited for the moment by the passions of anger or fear. “In at one ear and out at the other”—such is the description which those who have had most experience with this monarch testify as to the real effect upon him of all such advice. If any honest intention is ever really formed to keep the promises, to be true to the protestations and pledges made on such occasions, it is habitually scattered to the winds by the next impure breath which blows upon him. A master of intrigue himself (an intrigue of the Korean type[152] which combines as, perhaps, nowhere else in the world the unmixed elements of a tenuous subtlety and a fatuous silliness), the Emperor of Korea is also the victim and willing subject of intriguing eunuchs, concubines, sorceresses, Yang-bans, and unscrupulous and unsavory foreign adventurers. From his point of view, his missionary physician is his spy; and, from the same point of view, the guest of Marquis Ito was, as a matter of course, suspected of being a spy—in the one case in behalf of, in the other case against, his cherished interests. And these interests are not the welfare of his country, or even those more important and lasting interests that concern his own crown and the perpetuation of the royal house. They are sensuous and personal. Yet this complex character is truthfully described as amiable, kindly by preference, and ready to smile upon and give gifts to all. But this, too, is a problem which requires further consideration, as one of interest from the psychologist’s point of view not only, but also and chiefly, from the point of view which regards the social and political relations of Japan and Korea. At the time my message was delivered, and even before it was sent, the fatal mistake of sending a Commission to The Hague had been made. In the case of monarchs and of nations, as in the case of common folk—individuals and communities—there are promises sincerely made, but made too late, and penitence which follows but does not anticipate and prevent the last fatal consequences of years of folly and of crime.

To these results of my observations in Korea the following particulars should be added in this place. As has just been indicated, one of the strongest and most fixed impressions made was that of the well-nigh hopeless corruption of the Korean Court. Of intrigue and corruption there is doubtless enough in all courts, especially in those of Oriental countries. Nor are these evils by any means absent from the political centres of Republican Governments, whether of the[153] national or local character. But the intrigue and corruption of the Korean Court are of a peculiarly despicable and, indeed, intolerable character. The premises in which it is housed at present are entirely lacking in any appearance of dignity; are, indeed, almost squalid. In a commonplace brick building were lodged the Emperor, the Crown Prince, Lady Om, the little Prince her son, and an innumerable number of court officials, court ladies, and eunuchs. The Cabinet Ministers in attendance during the night await the Imperial pleasure in a Korean house near the courtyard, in rooms hardly larger than horse-stalls. At times the contents of the cesspools, in close proximity to the main palace gates, offend both eyes and nose. So often as the rigorous inspection of the foreign lady in control of such affairs is relaxed, the filth in the apartments themselves begins to accumulate. Gifts to His Majesty, in value all the way from expensive screens to baskets of fruit, are appropriated by the court rabble to their own uses. Dishes, and even chairs, are often stolen by the lackeys and coolies at the Imperial garden-parties. Yet there is a marvellous display of gorgeous uniforms worn by the court functionaries; and these functionaries are numerous enough to cover all the usual bureaus, ceremonies, decorations, and offices really existing or imaginary, with the customary crowd of masters of ceremony and chamberlains thought needful for the courts of the largest and wealthiest nations. At the time of the disbandment of the army, thirty generals and only ten colonels constituted the corps of officers in command.

All these appointments have hitherto been dependent on the “gracious favor” of His Majesty and have been dispensed without regard to moral character or any form of fitness, or to the real interests of the nation. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say that they have often been sold to those who offered the highest percentage of squeezes for the outstretched royal[154] hand. To secure them, access to the ear of the Emperor is indispensable in most cases. Not a few of the most low-lived and unscrupulous of his subjects and of foreigners have been recipients of royal favors in this way. To quote the words of one who knows: “Now it was the interpreter of a foreign legation, now a common police spy, now a minister or ex-minister of State, and now some comparatively humble member of the Imperial entourage. The soothsayers, geomancers, and others of that ilk, were always present, and frequently influential in devising grotesque schemes which spelled profit to themselves and to other hangers-on of the court. But the most constant influence at court of late years was that exercised by some of the eunuchs. Among these, the chief eunuch Kang, was probably the most powerful. He grew rich upon the perquisites of office, and would undoubtedly be flourishing still, had it not been for the famous house-cleaning which the-court underwent some time ago. He then fled, and report has it (seemingly with good reason) that he was harbored nearly two weeks for a substantial consideration, in the house of a foreigner connected in a subordinate capacity with an American business concern. When in his heyday he exercised great personal influence with the Emperor, and there are well authenticated instances of cabinet ministers having bribed him in order to secure access to the Imperial presence.”

It should also be remembered that this state of things in the Court of Korea was not at all in spite of the Emperor, but was rather of his own choosing. Indeed, his character and habit of conducting his Imperial office was the principal effective reason for the perpetuation of such corruption. The signs of this stream of evil influence are by no means all concealed. Every day of my stay in Seoul I was witness to the line of jinrikishas, and the procession of pedestrians—many of a by no means prepossessing appearance—along[155] the lane on which stands the gate through which those seeking audience were passing in to the palace enclosure. As to foreigners who, in person, are introduced to the Emperor, the Japanese Government had then a practically efficient control. But for Korean subjects, and for foreigners using Koreans to further their schemes, there was at that time still abundant access. And the number of those who visited this “prisoner in his palace” was frequently advertised in the daily news as counted by scores and by hundreds. To leave his “prison” and go out upon the streets of Seoul otherwise than on those rare ceremonial occasions when everything is prepared beforehand, would have been for His Majesty to break with the etiquette of centuries. Now, however, that the Japanese are in much more complete control, the freedom of the Emperor’s movements is greatly enlarged.

I shall not easily forget how the contrast between the new forces of spiritual uplift and the old forces of intellectual and moral degradation came over me, as I was present one Sunday at the morning service of the Methodist church, which stands just across the way from the palace enclosure. The combined congregations gathered here numbered an audience of more than one thousand, nearly one half of which were children. Bishop Ross preached a short and simple sermon, Dr. Jones interpreting. Several of the American delegates to the great missionary Conference in China, on their way homeward, were present, surprised and rejoicing in the size and enthusiasm of the Korean multitude of hearers. The girls from one of the schools patronized by Lady Om (whose true history is told in Mr. Angus Hamilton’s book, and who is now euphemously styled the “Emperor’s consort”), which had recently been complained of by the English edition of the Korean Daily News for “being used to foster allegiance to Japan,” were singing “I surrender all to Jesus.” But what was then being done a few yards distant, just over the palace[156] wall, where were living a collection of as vulgar, ignorant, corrupt, and murderous men and women as were to be found anywhere in so-called “heathendom”?

How the intrigue and deceitfulness, combined with weakness, of the Korean Emperor and his Korean and foreign friends, terminated with the commission to The Hague Peace Conference is now a matter of history. As such, it demands a further study in its historical origins and historical setting.

The impression which I received as to the capacity and character of the Korean official and Yang-ban (or “gentry”) class was, on the whole, not reassuring in regard to their real willingness or ability to inaugurate and support governmental and industrial reforms in Korea. It is indeed difficult for one born and fostered under an Occidental—and, perhaps, especially an American—system of civilization justly to appreciate the institutions and the personal characteristics of the men of the Orient. Of this difficulty I had had an initial experience on my first visit to Japan fifteen years ago. Repeated visits to Japan, and intimate intercourse with Japanese of various classes, together with painstaking observation of the people, had enabled me to overcome this difficulty to a considerable extent, so far as the Land of the Rising Sun is concerned. But, as has already been indicated, Old Japan was really more like Mediæval Europe in many of its most essential psychological and social characteristics, than like either modern India, or China, or Korea. A winter spent in travel and lecturing rather widely over India was of more important service in coming to an understanding of the upper classes in Korea. This, too, is insufficient for a standard of comparison. With the high-caste Hindu a Westerner of reflective mind will, of course, have many intellectual interests in common. With the Korean Yang-ban, except in the very rarest cases, there can be no[157] common interests of this kind. The problems of life and destiny, the Being of God, the constitution of the universe, the fundamental principles of ethics, politics, and law are of little concern to him. It is doubtful, indeed, whether it has ever dawned upon his mind that there are such questions worthy of patient consideration by the reflective powers. A few, but a few only—such, at any rate, was the impression made upon me—have a genuine, unselfish, and fairly intelligent sentiment of patriotism as distinguished from a desire to use office and influence for the promotion of their own self-interested ends. And these few—even that still smaller number who to the sentiment of patriotism add manly courage, strength of purpose, and readiness to suffer—are incapable of combining their forces so as to carry through in their own land any policy to secure the most imperatively needed reforms. After discussing this matter repeatedly with one of Korea’s most appreciative and respected foreign friends, I forced him to this admission: namely, there were not, then, so far as he knew, two leaders of men in all Korea who could come together, trust each other, agree together, and stand together, to fight and work for the good of their country to the bitter end. Moreover, had it been possible to find two, or even twenty, such strong and trusted political leaders, under his late Majesty and the unpurged court of his rule, the reformers could not have escaped exile or assassination, so far as Majesty and Court were permitted to have their own way. Indeed, it was during all that spring only the determined purpose of the Japanese Government, as administered by Marquis Ito, that made possible the inauguration and progress of any measure of reform. It was the same wise policy that stood between the Emperor and a fate similar to that endured by his royal consort at dawn of October 8, 1895. And only after his friend, the Resident-General, hoping for a long time against the repeated violation[158] of the grounds of hope, had reached the sad conclusion that the Emperor’s “disease was incurable,” and that the vital interests of Korea as well as of Japan demanded the termination of his unfortunate and disgraceful career, did the event take place. Even then, however, it was forced by his own cabinet ministers.

As to the general character of the administration of the magistrates throughout the country of Korea, in the winter and spring of 1906 and 1907, there can be no difference of intelligent opinion. It was essentially the same which it had been for hundreds of years. With rare exceptions, which were liable to make the magistrate suspected and traduced to the Emperor and his court, the local jurisdiction in Korea was a system of squeezes and acts of oppression, capable of classification only under two important specific differences. These differences were, first, the marks of strength and corruption combined with cruelty, and, second, of weakness and corruption without obvious cruelty. The following extracts from the Korean Daily News—the paper which (with its native edition) Mr. Hulbert and Mr. Bethell, its editor, were employing to excite foreign and native opposition to the Japanese—are only a small number of the items of news on which this impression was based:

It must not be supposed that these instances of disturbance in the provinces are rare and selected from a long period of time. Indeed, fully one-half as many instances, illustrative of the condition of things prevalent in the country districts of Korea as have been given above, might have been taken from single issues of this morning paper. So true is[160] this that its daily column headed “Local News and Comment,” called out an ironical article from the Japanese semi-official paper, the Seoul Press, entitled “Speak Well of Your Friends.” In this article was the assertion: “A digest of its issues (i. e., of the Korean Daily News) for one month, as far as they relate to the Koreans, would indicate that outside Seoul every third Korean was a bandit, while in Seoul every other man was either a traitor or corrupt. This hardly appears to be the way to establish a good reputation for the Koreans.” One needs, however, to know only a little as to the proper reading between the lines, in order to discover that the real reason why there was a dearth of good news, of importance enough to print, in this anti-Japanese paper was this: almost all such items would have accrued to the credit of the Japanese Administration. Such items would, therefore, bring into too strong contrast, to suit these foreign friends of Korea, the traditional ways and results of the Korean Government and the already manifest effects of the reforms that were being carried through by the Resident-General and his Japanese and Korean helpers.

The news from the country, as given by the pro-Japanese press did not differ from that given by this anti-Japanese paper from which extracts have already been made. The former, however, dwelt much more upon the changes for the better which were being accomplished, chiefly at Seoul, but also in other cities and even in the country districts. The following extracts, selected from a number of similar items, will show this statement to be true. Says the Seoul Press:

All this, and similar experiences, as well as the history of the Korean people for two thousand years, raises the serious question of the possibility of a truly national redemption. Both before and during my visit to Seoul I was given to understand by foreign residents, Japanese and European, that the case of the nation is hopeless; their whole social and political system is decadent; they are an effete race, destined to give way before the invasion of members from any more vigorous race. But Marquis Ito evidently entertained no such view. It was the Korean nation which he desired to rescue and to lift up—whether with, or without, the consent and assistance of their Emperor and his court. Of the same opinion with the Marquis were the missionaries. Many of these were extravagant in their praises of the native characteristics of their converts, and not only sincerely attached to them, but also confident of their capacity for educational advancement and moral and social reform. To be sure, when asked more particularly as to what were the precise traits of character which encouraged these hopes and elicited this affection, and when reminded how almost universal had been the confessions, recent and still going on among the native Christians, of long-continued indulgence in the vices of lying, dishonesty, and impurity, there was no altogether satisfactory answer to be given. The grounds for praise were usually exhausted when the amiable and affectionate nature of the Korean had been duly emphasized. To increase my distrust of the view held by the missionaries, were the facts gained in conversation with others who had been witnesses[163] to the actions of the excited Korean populace; who had seen Korean officials that had offended this populace, or had been the object of some trumped-up charge circulated by their political rivals and enemies, beaten, jumped upon, smashed, torn limb from limb by their “gentle” and “amiable” fellow-countrymen. Nor were these things done in remote country-places, but in Seoul itself, near the Great Bell in the neighborhood of Song-do. I had also heard from the lips of Mr. Morris, manager of the Seoul Electric Railway, the story of how, at three o’clock in the morning of the night of May 27, 1900, he had been called out of bed and, accompanied by an escort of Japanese soldiers, taken to the prison near the Little West Gate to view the bodies of An Kyun Soo and Kwan Yung Chin. These were reformers who had been cajoled through promises of fair treatment by the smiling Emperor and his officials to return from exile in Japan; whereupon they had been foully murdered. Was one to share the “shivery feeling” with which Mr. Morris passed between the rows of instruments of torture to view the red marks of the cord with which these patriots had been strangled; or was one to trust the estimate of their Christian teachers regarding the mild and lovable disposition of the native Koreans? There was also the glimpse into the smouldering fires of hatred and cruelty, mingled with cowardice and hypocrisy, which I had myself had during the visit to Pyeng-yang. And there were the unceasing daily items of both the pro- and the anti-Japanese papers, to which reference has already been made. Finally, there was the fact that these characteristics of the Korean populace were historical, and were chiefly in evidence among themselves, in their relations toward their own countrymen rather than directed toward foreigners, even including the Japanese. Out of this confusion of witnesses there slowly emerged the conclusion that the mixture of good and bad needed itself to be historically explained; therefore,[164] neither the denunciations of the one party nor the praises of the other could afford to the observer the sufficient reasons for a just judgment of the native character. It is, indeed, on the whole, just now rather more despicable than that of any other people whom I have come to know. But it is not necessarily beyond redemption. At any rate, here is another question which needs illumining in the whiter and broader light of history.

The impressions gained as to the Koreans—Emperor, Court, Yang-bans, and populace—were, of course, intimately associated with the impressions formed as to the nature and efficiency of the forces chiefly at work for the reform and uplift of the nation. Such reforming and uplifting forces are undoubtedly these two: the personality of the Resident-General, assisted in his work by the official corps under him, and supported by the Government of His Imperial Majesty of Japan; and the Christian missionaries. What impressions, then, seemed warranted by my observations as to the soundness and efficacy of these two forces?

As to the sincerity of Marquis Ito in his self-sacrificing and arduous task of effecting a reformed condition, industrially and politically, of the Korean nation, no shadow of doubt ever arose in my own mind. But this is a relatively small and unimportant thing to say. It is more instructive as to the truth to notice that his sincerity was, so far as I am aware, never questioned by any one, not even by those most hostile to his policy, except in an obviously ignorant and hypocritical way. The extreme military party of Japan, the advocates of the strong hand and of immediate forcible annexation, as well as anti-Japanese missionaries and other foreigners, and even that Korean officialdom which always has so much difficulty in believing that any one in office can be sincere—all these, as soon as ignorant prejudice became but partially enlightened, ceased to bring the charge of[165] self-seeking and deceit against the Resident-General. For he had unmistakably affirmed, both privately and publicly, to his own countrymen, to the Koreans, and to the world, that it was his intention to do all that in his power lay for the betterment of the condition of the Korean people themselves. When His Korean Majesty, who had not only repeatedly violated his most solemn treaty obligations, but had also, with frequent prevarications, falsehoods, and treachery, broken his equally solemn promises to the man who was far more unselfishly interested in the welfare of Korea than was its ruler, involved himself in sore trouble, he, too, turned to the Marquis Ito for advice and help. That even the insincere Korean Emperor and his corrupt Court believed in the sincerity of the Resident-General I have abundant reason to know.

It was not the sincerity of Marquis Ito, however, which made most impression upon the leading people of Seoul; it was rather the qualities of patience, pity, and gentleness. Such are, indeed, not usually the mental attitudes of the diplomat or politician toward those who are intriguing, or otherwise actively endeavoring to defeat his cherished plans. It should not be forgotten that less than a year before, during the absence of the Resident-General, a plot had been formed which involved his assassination; and that this plot had been traced to those who had the entrée of the Palace, in despite of their well-known bad character, and some of whom were the recognized Korean associates of the men whose “services” to the Korean Emperor terminated in the commission to the Peace Conference at The Hague. Of those Korean officials who were most opposed to the Japanese Protectorate, the Marquis was ready to say that he sympathized with them in their desire for the perfect independence of their country; nor did he blame them for their struggles to bring about this result so long as their way was free from lying, robbery, and murder.[166] But the witness of history he regarded as unimpeachable proof of the incapacity of the Korean ruling classes to lift up, or to rule well their own country; unaided, they could never effect the reformation of existing industrial and social evils. Japan, the Far East, and the interests of the civilized world forbade their being longer permitted to disturb the peaceful relations of foreign nations. In this connection the Marquis once spoke of the difficulty which he experienced in preventing his own countrymen from themselves degenerating in character under the morally depressing influences of Korea. These influences had, in his judgment, been more or less effective in the case of most foreigners—diplomats and missionaries included—who had lived for a long time in Seoul. “I tell them,” said he, “you must not become Koreans; you are here to raise the Koreans up, and you cannot do this if you sink down to their level.” At a small dinner party, at the house of one of the foreign consuls, the Resident-General spoke more freely than is his custom about his own early life, his observations during his several trips abroad in America, Europe, and Russia, and the ideals which had guided his official career. In this connection, with reference to his present work in Korea, he referred to the expressions of surprise from some of his foreign colleagues, that he could endure so calmly the ways of the Koreans toward him and toward his administrative efforts; but “in truth,” he added, “I have no feelings of anger toward these people; they are so ignorant, they have been so long deprived of all honest and enlightened government, they are so poor and miserable, I am not angry with them. I pity them.”

It will doubtless seem a strange reversal of what many in the United States and elsewhere have been led to believe was true—and certainly it is a strange reversal of what ought to have been true—when I say that the patience and sympathy[167] of Marquis Ito in his relations with the foreign Christian workers in Korea was a surprise to me. The behavior of some of the missionaries and men prominent in the circle of the Young Men’s Christian Association, which was in receipt of a subsidy from the Japanese Government, had been trying indeed. That their professed Korean converts and adherents had used the name of Christian and the Christian organizations for selfish political purposes could not have been wholly avoided. Even the threats of legal proceedings had been unable to prevent this. But that injudicious reports of wrongs, either exaggerated or wholly false, should be sent by private and public letters to the “home country,” while the requests of the Resident-General to learn of these wrongs and to have the opportunity to correct them remained wholly unheeded, constituted a trial to patience which, I am of the opinion, few men in his position would have borne so well. Emphasis was given to this by the fact that some of the most violent and false accusations against the Japanese Government in Seoul were made in papers and books published by authors who were known to be on terms of friendship with foreign religious agencies. Even certain paid attorneys of the Imperial intrigues against the Resident-General were of this connection. To all this it should be added that His Excellency was being severely (although by no means fairly) criticized in his own country for his “excessive” patience toward these teachers of a foreign religion. Excited by the reports which were coming from the United States (see p. 62), one of the respectable Japanese papers of Tokyo (the Yomiuri, in its issue of May 6th) had found it “necessary to examine the past conduct of the American missionaries in Korea.” It expressed profound admiration “for the personality of the Founder of Christianity and high respect for the enthusiasm and devotion of his followers.” But as for those who, “wearing the mask of missionaries ... pander to the native[168] prejudices ... and endeavor to thwart our policy by disseminating baseless rumors and mischievous insinuations, there ought to be no hesitation to deport them out of the country.” “Marquis Ito, as a friend of peace and liberty, has already shown more than sufficient conciliation and patience.”

The story of the better way which Marquis Ito steadily followed, with its unwavering policy of conciliation and patience, and of its success so far as the majority of the more representative and influential of the missionary body is concerned, has already been told in part. For the small number who still refuse to respond to this policy, it is, of course, not deportation by the Japanese Government, but counsel and rebuke from their employers at home, which is the proper remedy. But the impressions of the visitor, who had full measure of the confidence of the leader of one of these two parties who are working for the redemption of Korea, and some good measure of the confidence of certain leaders of the other party, can be given in no other way so well as by quoting the following words from one of their number:

“From the Peninsula,” said Dr. George Heber Jones, in an address to the First General Conference of the Methodist Church in Japan, “we watch with intense interest the development in Japan; for Providence has bound up together the destinies of the two nations. Nationally, a new life opens up before Korea. Japan has sent her veteran statesman to advise and guide Korea, the man to whom in the largest sense Japan owes so much—the most conspicuous statesman in Asia to-day, Marquis Ito. Plans for the reform of the Government, codification of the laws, development of the industry and business of the people, and extension of education, have been formulated, and in a comparatively short time most promising results achieved. In spite of difficulties which necessarily for the present encumber the situation, the outlook is most hopeful. As a church in Korea we deliberately[169] stand aloof from all politics, but find our work, as it relates to the production of strong character, of honest, upright, true men, most intimately related to the regeneration of the nation. The coming ten years promise to be the most eventful in the history of Korea.”

At a tea-party, given in the gardens of Dr. and Mrs. Scranton, at Seoul, where Bishop Cranston, Bishop Harris, Dr. Leonard and Dr. Goucher, were among the non-resident guests, Marquis Ito was present; having arrived somewhat earlier than the appointed hour. After greeting the ladies and gentlemen present, the Marquis spoke as follows:

But the wisdom and firmness of the Resident-General were no less impressive than were the qualities of patience and gentleness. To the student of Korean affairs, of the more recently past and the present relations of the Japanese to the Koreans, it soon becomes patent what is chiefly needed in order to mend the former and to improve the latter. It is first of all the impartial administration of justice, in the way of righting wrongs, so far as this is possible, and of securing the rights of life, liberty, and property; then comes the fostering of education in the industries and arts, and the progressive elevation of the moral and religious condition of the people. At the time of my visit there were numberless[171] claims pending of fraud and violence—not so much of recent occurrence as acts of some months or years old—on the part of Koreans against Koreans, and of Japanese and Koreans against each other. Land had been seized and stolen outright, or fraudulently obtained by forged deeds or under false titles. Foreign promoters were clamoring over privileges and concessions, which were either purchased with some show of fairness or obtained from His Majesty, or from some subject, by partnership with the crowd of Korean official “squeezers.” The weaker race—it was claimed—was oppressed, insulted, beaten, or rudely pushed around—not now by their own officials or by Chinese or Russians, but by a people whose superiority of any sort it humiliated their traditional pride even grudgingly to admit. The ability of the most honest and capable local magistrate, whether Japanese or Korean, to discover the truth and to do any measure of justice was greatly hampered and, indeed, made almost practically unavailing by the differences in the two languages and by the fact that the interpreters themselves could, for the most part, in no respect be thoroughly trusted. It was, indeed, a favorite trick with the average Korean interpreter to hire out to one of his own countrymen who had a case against some Japanese, and then to betray his client for a bribe from the other side, by misstating or falsifying his client’s cause. And, under such circumstances, what could any magistrate do who understood only one of the two languages? Moreover, according to the testimony of Mr. D. W. Stevens, who had made careful examination into scores of such complaints, it was an extremely rare thing for a Korean, even when he had a perfectly good case, to refrain from mixing a large measure of exaggeration and falsehood with his truth-telling; nor was it easy to find any considerable crime of fraud committed against a Korean by a Japanese without uncovering a Korean partner to the[172] base transaction. So crafty are the Koreans that, in most cases of such partnership, it is not the foreign member of the firm who gets the larger share of the dividends resulting.

All these impressions as to what was most imperatively needed for the emergencies that were daily arising I was encouraged to mention to the Resident-General at any of our several interviews. It was, of course, desirable first of all to prevent the continuance of the evils which had been, both in Korea and abroad, charged against his own nationals in their treatment of the Koreans. Inquiry and observation combined to confirm the opinion that this was already being accomplished. At that time, however, most of the riots in the country districts did not appear to indicate feelings of hatred on the part of the natives toward “foreign oppressors”; they were only the customary expression of lawless resistance to a condition of wretchedness and misrule that was of native origin and indefinitely long-standing. No important acts of violence on the part of Japanese toward Koreans came under my observation, and none of recent occurrence were credibly reported. Even of those petty deeds of rudeness and incivility, which exasperate hostile feeling far beyond their real significance, I saw comparatively few. There was some rather contemptuous treatment of the Korean crowd at the gates of the railway stations and on the platforms of the trains; but the Koreans are themselves exceedingly stupid and ready to crowd others; and the handling given them by the Japanese officials was in no case so rough as that which the proudest American citizen is liable to receive at the Brooklyn Bridge or on the Fourth Avenue street-cars. Once, indeed, my jinrikisha-man, after he had several times warned, by his outcry, a Korean gentleman who was occupying the middle of the street with that dignified and slow-moving pace so characteristic of the idle Yang-ban, in order to avoid knocking the pedestrian down with his vehicle, gave him a[173] somewhat ungentle push to one side. The Korean fell forward, after the manner of a boy’s tin soldier before a marble. His crinoline hat rolled off his head, but alighted a short distance away. At first I was alarmed lest he might be injured, and was about to order the offending kurumaya to stop his running that I might offer my assistance. But when it appeared that neither the victim of this scarcely avoidable rudeness, nor his hat, was injured, and that no one, including the man himself, seemed to consider the incident worth noticing, I decided not to emphasize it further. Undoubtedly, this would not have happened with a Japanese child or woman in the adult Korean’s place; it might easily have happened, however, in the streets of Tokyo or Kyoto if the pedestrian had been a man of obviously inferior rank.

In brief, it was the uniform testimony of those who had been in Korea during the troublous times which followed the war with Russia that, under Marquis Ito’s administration, Japanese wrong-doers were being sought out and restrained or punished, and that deeds of violence and even of rudeness were becoming rarer with every month of his stay.

Other measures which seemed to me desirable to have put in operation were such as the following: a civil-service examination which should provide that every official, Korean or Japanese, whose duties brought him into intimate daily relations with both peoples, should have a working knowledge of both languages; the organizing of a body of authorized interpreters, whose honesty and ability to discharge this very delicate and important function of oral or written interpretation, in all legal causes and matters of Government business, should be guaranteed, the speedy and even spectacular demonstration of the Government’s intention to give to the Korean common people strict justice in all their valid complaints against the Japanese; the improvement of the character of the Japanese civil service and of the Japanese police[174] and petty officers of every kind; and some kind of arrangement between the missionary schools and the schools under the control of both the Korean and the Japanese authorities, by which uniformity might be attained in the primary education, and, in the higher stages, the mistakes made by the British Government in India might be avoided. These mistakes have resulted in educating a crowd of native “babus,” who are both unwilling and unfit for most kinds of serviceable employment in the real interests of their own nation’s development. As to this last matter, the statement may be repeated that not a small proportion of the Koreans educated abroad or in the missionary schools, with an almost purely literary education, have turned out either useless, or positively mischievous, when the practical reform and redemption of their own country is to be undertaken and enforced. For if there is any one thing which the average educated Korean Yang-ban will not do, that thing is hard and steady useful work.

None of these measures—it was soon made obvious—were to be overlooked or neglected in the large and generous plans of the Resident-General for the reform and uplift of Korea. Time, however, was needed for them all; they all required a supply of helpers, to train which time was required. And who that knows the lives of the great benefactors of mankind, or is versed in the most significant facts and obvious truths of history, does not recognize the evil clamor of the press, of the politicians, and of the crowd, to have that done all at once which cannot possibly be done without the help of time. The whole explanation of the delay is best summed-up in the pregnant sentence already quoted from one of Marquis Ito’s public addresses, which was evidently designed as a declaration of settled policy on his part. “As you know very well,” said he, “Korea can hardly be called an organized state in the modern sense; I am trying to make it such,” But as he[175] explained to me more in detail: “I have been at work on these difficult problems only one short year, interrupted by visits to Japan, because my own Emperor required my presence; and the first half of this year was almost entirely occupied with such physical improvements as various engineering schemes, provision for hospitals, roads, and similar matters. There has never been any such thing as Korean law, under which justice can be administered impartially. But, according to the constitution of Japan, no Japanese subject of His Imperial Majesty, as well as no other foreigners resident in Korea, can be deprived of property, or of liberty, otherwise than by due process of law. Nor is my relation to the administration of justice in Korea like that of the British magistrate in British India. With Korean affairs, purely internal, when the attempt is made to settle them in Korean fashion, I have no right, under the treaty, to interfere. And the Koreans, when they could resort to legal measures for settling their disputes, ordinarily will not do so; they prefer to resort to the ancient illegal practice of running to some Korean Court official and bribing him to use influence on their side. As for Korean judges who can be trusted to do justice, there is scarcely any raw material even for such judges to be found. A carefully selected number of jurists, with a large force of clerks, has, however, been brought from Japan; and they are diligently at work trying to devise a written code under which the ancient customs and common laws of Korea, as representing its best efforts to enact and establish justice, shall be made available for future use.”

Meantime, as we have already seen, the Resident-General was being opposed and, as far as possible, thwarted, in every effort to improve the civil service and judicial administration of Korea, by the corrupt Korean Court, with its mob of eunuchs, palace women, sorceresses, etc., and by nearly all the native officials and Yang-bans in places of influence and[176] power. And the chief seat of corruption and of opposition to genuine, effective reform was the smiling and amiable Korean Emperor himself. How effectively, because wisely and firmly, Marquis Ito initiated and advanced these reform measures will receive its proof, so far as proof is at present possible, by examination of results recorded in official and other trustworthy reports. To the facts already narrated, on which my personal impression of these qualities was based, many others of even a more convincing character might easily be added.

Of the feelings of admiration and friendship which grew during these weeks of somewhat confidential relations, on the part of the guest toward his host, it would not be fitting to speak with any detail. But in closing the more exclusively personal part of my narrative I might quote the words of one of the Consuls-General residing in Seoul. This diplomat expressed his feeling toward the Marquis Ito as one of veneration, beyond that which he had ever felt for any but a very few of the men whom he had met in his official career.

After all, however, personal impressions, no matter how favorable to truth the conditions under which they are derived, are not of themselves satisfactory in answer to questions so grave and so complicated as those which encompass the existing relations between Japan and Korea. Such impressions must be subjected to the severer tests, the more comprehensive considerations, the profounder sanctions, of history and of statistics. For this reason I now pass on to the much more difficult task of reviewing in the light of these tests, considerations, and sanctions, the impressions of my visit to Korea in 1907, as the guest of Marquis Ito.

An authentic and trustworthy history of Korea has never been written; and enormous difficulties await the investigator who, in the future, attempts this task. The native records, almost down to the present time, consist of the same uncritical mixture of legend, fable, oral tradition, and unverified written narrative which characterizes the earliest so-called histories of all civilized peoples. But the Korean civilization has not as yet produced any writer both ambitious and able to treat this material in a way corresponding to the opportunity it affords. All the narratives of events, except those of the most recent date, which have been written by foreigners, have, of necessity, been lacking in that intimate acquaintance with the Korean language, institutions, customs, and the temperament and spirit of the people, which is the indispensable equipment of the historian. The antiquities and other physical records of an historical character have, moreover, never to any considerable extent been explored. A striking example of this general truth was afforded only a short time ago when Dr. George Heber Jones discovered the fact that a wrong date (by a whole century) had been given for the casting of the Great Bell at Chong-no—one of the most conspicuous public objects of interest in Seoul; yet the correct date was inscribed on the bell itself![180] The reason for this petty falsifying of historical fact was characteristically Korean; it was in order that the honor of casting the bell might be ascribed to the Founder of the present Dynasty.

In spite of these facts, however, the main outlines of the development of Korea are unmistakable. Its history has been, for the ruling classes, one long, monotonous, almost unbroken record of misrule and misfortune; and for the people an experience of poverty, oppression, and the shedding of blood. That they have endured at all as the semblance of a nation, although not “as an organized state in the modern sense,” has been due chiefly to these two causes: first, to a certain native quality of passive resistance, varied by periods of frenzied uprising against both native and foreign oppressors; and, second, to the fact that the difficulties encountered in getting over mountains and sea, in order to maintain a foreign rule long enough to accomplish these ends, have prevented their stronger neighbors on all sides from thoroughly subjugating and absorbing them. This latter reason may be stated in another way: it has hitherto never been worth the cost to terminate the independent existence of the Korean nation.

Nor is it difficult to learn from authentic sources the two most potent reasons for the unfortunate and evil state throughout their history of the Korean people. These reasons are, on the one hand, the physical results of repeated invasions from the outside; and, on the other hand, the adoption and perpetuation, in a yet more mischievous and degraded fashion, of the civil and official corruptions received from Korea’s ancient suzerain, China. It is customary to attach great importance, both as respects the damage done to the material interests of the country, and also as accounting for the Korean hatred of the Japanese, to the invasion of Hideyoshi. But the undoubted facts do not bear out this contention.[181] The lasting effects of this incoming of foreign armed forces from the south, and of their short-lived and partial occupation of Korean territory, were relatively unimportant. None of the institutions of Korea were changed; none of her physical resources were largely depleted. It was just those places in which the Japanese remained in the most intimate relations with the Koreans, where there was least permanent development of race hatred. But the results of the successive invasions from the north and northwest, by the wild tribes, by the Mongols, and by the Chinese and Manchu dynasties, were much more injurious in every way to the physical well-being of the peninsula.

It is one of the most remarkable contrasts between Japan and Korea that, whereas the more distinctly moral elements of Confucianism moulded a noble and knightly type of character in the former country, in its neighbor the doctrines of the great Oriental teacher chiefly resulted in forming the average official into a more self-conceited but really corrupt and mischievous personality. Indeed, the baleful influence of China, especially since the establishment of the Manchu dynasty, has been the principal hindrance to the industrial and civic development of Korea. The contribution made to its civilization by Chinese letters, inventions, and arts, has been no adequate compensation for the depressing and debasing character of the imported political and social system. The official institutions and practices of the suzerain have for centuries been bad enough at home; but here they have been even worse, whether admiringly copied or enforced by the influence of its Court and the power of its army. And, whereas the great multitude of the Chinese people have displayed for a long time the inherent power of industrial self-development and of successful business intercourse with foreigners, the Koreans have thus far been relatively lacking in the qualities essential for every kind of[182] material and governmental success. Thus all the civilization of Korea has been so characterized by weakness and corruption as to excite contempt as well as disapprobation from the moralist’s and the economist’s points of view. It is China and not Japan which through some 2,000 years of past history has been the expensive and bloody enemy, and the political seducer and corrupter of Korea.

The division of the history of Korea, made by Mr. Homer B. Hulbert, into ancient and modern—the latter period beginning in 1392, with the founding of the present dynasty—is entirely without warrant. “Modern history” can scarcely be said to have begun in the so-called “Hermit Kingdom” previous to the time when a treaty was concluded between Japan and Korea by General Kuroda, acting as Plenipotentiary, on February 26, 1876. Even then, the first Korean Embassy under the new régime, having arrived at Yokohama by a Japanese steamer on the following May 29th, when it started back to Korea a month later, refused all overtures of Western foreigners to communicate with their country. From the time when the present kingdom arose by the union of the three previously existing kingdoms, the doings of the Korean Court and of the Korean people have been substantially the same. When threatened by foreign invaders or by popular uprisings and official rebellion at home, the Court—a motley crowd or mob, of King, palace officials, eunuchs, concubines, blind men, sorceresses, and other similar retainers of the palace—has, as a rule, precipitately fled to some place of refuge, deserted by efficient military escort and in most miserable plight. Only when behind walls and compelled to fight, or when aroused to a blind fury in the form of a mob, does the average Korean show the courage necessary to defend or to avenge his monarch. The saying of the Japanese that “the Koreans are kittens in the field and tigers in the fortress” characterized their behavior during the[183] Hideyoshi invasion; it is characteristic of them to-day. Three centuries ago, when the king was in flight from Seoul to Pyeng-yang his own attendants stole his food and left him hungry; and the Korean populace, left behind in Seoul rose at once and burned and looted what the Court had not carried away. “Before many days had elapsed the people found out that the coming of the Japanese did not mean universal slaughter, as they had supposed, and gradually they returned to their lands in the city. They reopened their shops, and as long as they attended to their own affairs they were unmolested by the Japanese. Indeed, they adapted themselves readily to the new order of things, and drove a lucrative trade with the invaders”![5] In these respects, too, the voice of Korean history is a witness with a monotone; as it was in 1592 and earlier, so it has been down to the present time.

In one other most important respect there has been little variation in the records of Korean history. Brave, loyal, and good men, when they have arisen to serve their monarch and their country, have never been permitted to flourish on Korean soil. The braver, more loyal and unselfish they have been, the more difficult has the path to the success of their endeavors been made by a corrupt Court and an ignorant and ungrateful populace. Almost without exception such men—rare enough at the best in Korean history—have been traduced by their enemies and deserted and degraded by their king. Curing the Hideyoshi invasion the most worthy leader of the Korean forces by land was General Kim Tuk-nyung. It is said that the Christian Japanese General Konishi had so high an opinion of General Kim that he had a portrait of him made, and on seeing it exclaimed: “This man is indeed a general.” But, on account of Kim’s success, his enemies maligned him; the king had him arrested, brought to Seoul, and, after a disgraceful trial, executed. In all Korea’s history[184] there has never been another man to whom the nation has owed so much for his courage, devotion, and genius in affairs of war as to Admiral Yi. It was he, more than all others—king, officers, and common soldiers—who accomplished the final ill-success of the Japanese invasion. It was Admiral Yi who destroyed all chance of re-enforcing the Japanese army in Seoul, and who thus actually did what the Russian fleet in the recent war could not begin to do. But this great patriot and successful leader, under the same baleful influences, was degraded to the rank of a common soldier and barely escaped with his life. Quite uniformly such has been the fate of the true patriots and best leaders during all Korea’s history, and this just because they were true and of the best. Such would to-day be the fate of the saving elements left in Korean official circles if the hand of Japan were withdrawn. Indeed, as we have already seen, the most difficult part of the Resident-General’s problem is to cultivate and to protect Korean leaders of a trustworthy character. It is Korea’s national characteristic to “stone her prophets”; but few of them have had “whited sepulchres” built to them by future generations.

The more ancient relations of Japan and Korea were such as are common to people who inhabit contiguous lands at the corresponding stage of civilization. “As to the relations between the two nations,” says Brinkley,[6] “they were limited for a long time to mutual raids.” On the one side, the Japanese could complain that, in the first century B.C., when a pestilence had reduced their forces, Korean freebooters invaded Kiushiu and settled themselves in the desolated hamlets of the Japanese; that the Koreans lent assistance to the semi-savage aborigines of the same island and to the Mongol invaders; and that their citizens who wished to enter into friendly relations of commerce with the neighboring peninsula[185] were treated with scorn and even with violence. On the other side, there was valid ground for the charge that Japanese pirates, either alone or in conjunction with Chinese, often invaded the coasts of Korea; and that Japanese traders by no means always conducted themselves in a manner to win the confidence and friendship of the inhabitants of the peninsula.

The earlier trade relations between Japan and Korea were irregular and by no means always satisfactory to either party. The wardens of the island of Tsushima, which is by its very position a sort of natural mediating territory between the two countries—the So family—had virtual control of the legitimate commerce. They issued permits for fifty ships which passed annually from ports in Japan to the three Japanese settlements in the peninsula. These Japanese traders and the Korean officials behaved toward each other in so objectionable fashion that a revolt of the settlers in Fusan arose in 1610, in the effort to suppress which the Koreans were at first defeated; but afterward, being re-enforced strongly from Seoul, they compelled the settlers to retire from all the three settlements; and thus for the time being the trade between Japan and Korea came to an end. When, later, the Shogunate Government complied with the demand of the Korean Government that the ringleaders of this disturbance should be decapitated and their heads sent to Seoul, the trade was re-established. But it did not attain its previous proportions; it was limited to twenty-five vessels annually, and the settlements were abandoned. Similar troubles recurred some thirty years later. The Shogun of that period, too, caused the offenders to be arrested and handed over to the Korean authorities; but the Court at Seoul continued its refusal to allow the commerce with the Japanese to be expanded.

The amount of contribution made by Korea to the civilization of Japan in those earlier days has probably been somewhat exaggerated. Both these countries are chiefly indebted[186] to China for the elements of the arts and of letters, and for most of the other refinements of their culture; these came to Japan, however, to a considerable extent through Korea. According to the records of the Japanese themselves, in the century before the Christian era Chinese scholars came to Satsuma through Korea, Tsushima, and the intervening islands. At about the same time Koreans also brought Chinese civilization to Japan.[7] During the reign of the Emperor Kimmei (555 A.D.), according to Japanese tradition, the king of Kudara in Korea sent to Japan an envoy bearing an image of Buddha and a copy of the Sutras. But while the Minister-President was experimenting with its worship, the occurrence of a pestilence proved that the ancestral deities were angry at the intrusion of a foreign form of worship.[8] After the “subjugation of the three kingdoms of Korea a number of Chinese and Koreans came to settle in Japan. In order to avert confusion in family names and titles which might have arisen from this cause, an investigation of family names was made in the 1430th year after the Emperor Jimmu (about A.D. 770).” It will thus be seen that there are probably in both countries families which have in their veins the mingled blood of both races.

Relations tending to exasperate the feeling of each country against the other continued through the centuries which constituted the Middle Ages in Europe. In Japan the feudal system was approaching its more elaborate and powerful development; in Korea the weakness and corruption of the Court, the ignorance, suffering from oppression, and lawlessness of the people were not improving. Thus the two nations were drawing further and further apart and were following the paths which have led to such a wide divergence[187] in the now existing conditions—mentally, politically, and socially. The various embassies sent by Kublai Khan to Japan during the years of 1268-1274 A.D. came via Korea and were accompanied by Korean officials. The attempted Mongol invasions of Japan were assisted by Korea. On the other hand, the peninsula continued to suffer from the attacks of Japanese pirates. The inhabitants of the Southwest coasts of Japan made raids upon the opposite coasts, engaging in open conflict with the Korean troops, killing their generals, destroying their barracks, and carrying away as plunder, horses, ships, and stores of grain. In these encounters the soldiers of Korea showed their traditional lack of courage in the field, frequently retreating before the Japanese raiders without striking a single blow. Frequent envoys were sent from Korea to remonstrate and demand reparation; and one of these took back with him (1377 A.D.) several hundred Koreans who had been made prisoners by the Japanese pirates, but were returned to their own country by Imagawa Sadayo, Governor of Kiushiu. No really effective measures to stop piracy were, however, taken by the Japanese Government until the time of the ex-Shogun Yoshimitsu, who on several occasions had the pirates arrested and handed over to China, the suzerain of Korea. For later on the Japanese pirates associated themselves with Chinese pirates and pursued their business of plunder quite impartially as against either Koreans or Chinese. When the Koreans took reprisals upon those inhabitants of Tsushima who were residing in the southern part of their land, the people of that island made an attack upon Fusan and destroyed its fortifications (1510 A.D.).

The first notable conflict between Korea and Japan was the invasion of Hideyoshi. Various motives have been assigned for this war-like expedition; the real motives were probably complex. Hideyoshi was undoubtedly angry at[188] Korea for her refusal to open the country to trade with Japan. He was willing to take his revenge for the assistance that had been given to the Yuan dynasty of Mongols in their attacks upon Japan.[9] But he was especially desirous to get at China through Korea, and to use the latter country as a base for his attack. He began (1587 A.D.) by sending a despatch to the warden of Tsushima directing him to invite the King of Korea to an audience with the Emperor of Japan; and he accompanied the invitation with a threat of invasion unless the invitation were accepted. Next, having quite thoroughly “pacified” (in Cæsar’s fashion) his own country, he sent a demand for presents—plainly of a tributary character—with the same threat accompanying. This time an envoy from his own person assured the Koreans that unless they complied they would be compelled to march in the van of the Japanese army for the invasion of China. Hideyoshi, when this insolent demand failed of its purpose, first worshipped at the tomb of the Empress Jingo—the reputed conqueror of Korea in most ancient times. In April, 1592, the Japanese invading force, which consisted according to the Japanese records of 130,000 in eight army corps, sailed in a fleet manned by 9,000 sailors with the Generals Konishi Yukinaga and Katō Kiyomasa leading the van. They were to carry out the threat of the Taiko for the punishment and subjugation of Korea. According to the statement of the authority we are following,[10] Hideyoshi expected to conquer China in two years and contemplated transferring the capital of Japan to that country. “He even went so far as to determine the routine to be followed in the removal of the Japanese Court to China.” How characteristic is this detailed planning, without sufficient regard for the exigencies of time, the enormous intervening obstacles, and the possible adverse[189] will of heaven, of the national temperament even down to the present time!

It is not necessary to our purpose to follow the early brilliant successes and the disastrous ending of the invasion of Korea by Hideyoshi. Both nations displayed their characteristic virtues and faults during this period of intercourse by way of conflict—the knightly courage and arrogant overconfidence of the Japanese, the passive power of resistance and the weakness and political corruption of the Koreans. But as to the invasion itself our sympathies must remain with Korea; it was without sufficient warrant, conducted incautiously, and more disastrous in its result to the invaders themselves than to the country which they had, for the time being, desolated. By the courage and skill of Admiral Yi and by the assistance of China, the forces of Japan were finally, after a period of seven years, so reduced that Hideyoshi, at the point of death, recalled them; and the war came to an end in 1598. The terms of peace agreed to were on the whole humiliating to the Japanese.

The great Iyeyasu, the founder of the Tokugawa Dynasty, took measures, repeatedly and patiently, to renew those relations of a promising friendly character which had been dissolved in hatred by the invasion of Hideyoshi. He sent repeated embassies to Korea, restored prisoners that had been led captive at the time of the Taiko’s invasion, and spared no pains to make the Koreans understand that a decided change of policy had taken place in the Japanese Government toward their country. From his time onward, the official treatment given to Korea by Japan has been conspicuous, as compared with the example furnished by other civilized countries under similar trying conditions, for its fairness and its friendliness. This fact becomes amusingly obvious when we compare the way in which the claims for tribute from Korea have been made by the two countries, China and Japan. Under the[190] Tokugawas the nominal sovereigns paid the bills; but the Korean tribute-bearers (sic) had a largely free junketing expedition of three months’ duration at the expense of the Japanese. Under the Manchu Dynasty, however, the tribute fixed for annual payment took a very substantial shape; it included 100 ounces of gold, 1,000 ounces of silver, 10,000 bags of rice, 2,000 pieces of silk, 10,000 pieces of cotton cloth, 10,000 rolls (50 sheets each) of large-sized paper, and other less important items. Even then, it can be seen, the Chinese greatly excelled the Japanese in their business ability. Moreover, when the Koreans pleaded that the payment of tribute to China had so impoverished them that they could not render what was due to Japan, the Japanese forgave them the obligation (A.D. 1638).[11] Nor was this the last time in which the forgiveness of debts was exercised toward the Korean Government in a manner unaccustomed between nations of conflicting interests.

Finally the Koreans, having obtained the consent of China, sent to Japan a letter from their king, together with some presents; and from this time onward, on the occasion of each change of Shogun, Korean envoys came to the country to offer congratulations. The Tokugawas, on their side, were careful to “treat these delegates with all courtesy and consideration”; they also discontinued the offensive custom which the Ashikaga family had followed, of assuming for the Shogun the title of “King of Korea.”[12] Meantime, the So family improved the opportunity which their position as intermediaries between Japan and Korea afforded to renew and increase the trade relations of the two countries. It is probable that lasting friendly intercourse would have been established from this time onward if it had not been, at this period, as all through Korea’s unfortunate history, for the[191] baleful influence of China. This fact becomes prominent in all the foreign relations of Korea during the half century following the early attempts to open the Hermit Kingdom to intercourse with other nations. The French and American expeditions for this purpose were productive only of the result that the Koreans became more obstinate in their resistance to outside influences, and more secure in their pride and confidence in their ability to resist successfully through their superior craft and courage in war. These expeditions illustrate, however, the policy of China in maintaining its claims of suzerainty over Korea. To take, for example, the experience of the United States in dealing with this policy, it may be summarized in somewhat the following way:

The destruction of the American schooner General Sherman, in 1866, was the occasion of some desultory correspondence between the American and the Chinese Governments. The former presented the matter at Peking because China was supposed to sustain some sort of relationship of suzerainty, not clearly understood, toward Korea. China, however, would not admit the existence of any kind of bond which made her responsible for Korean acts; the Tsungli Yamen said, in effect, that there had existed from ancient times a certain dependency by Korea upon China; but they denied in express words that it was of such a nature as to give China any right to control or to interfere with the administration of Korean foreign or domestic affairs.

It was precisely this attitude which was the fons et origo of the subsequent trouble between China and Japan. From the Chinese standpoint, as shown by official declarations and acts, Korea was and was not a vassal state. She was so when it suited China actively to interfere, and not so when it was either difficult or dangerous, or even troublesome, to assume the responsibilities of suzerainty. China was not even willing to act the part of intermediary if by doing so she could be[192] held to accept the onus of making or compelling the reparation which America demanded.

Finally the United States Government took matters in its own hands and the expedition under Admiral John Rodgers was sent to Korea in 1871. The failure of that expedition to accomplish anything beyond the destruction of the fort on Kang-wha Island, and Commodore Shufeldt’s subsequent attempt to open up communication with the Korean Government, were the total of American efforts regarding Korea up to the time when the Shufeldt treaty was negotiated.

After the fall of the Tokugawa Government the Korean Court desisted from the custom of sending an embassy to Japan to congratulate the succession to the place of supreme rule; it even declared its determination to have no further relations with a country which had embraced the Western civilization. When the Government of the Restoration sent an envoy to Korea to announce the change and to “confirm friendly relations between the two states,” the Korean Court refused to recognize the envoy or to receive his message. The real reason for this affront was the influence of China; the ostensible reason referred to the fact that the term “Great Empire of Japan” was employed in the Imperial letter. As says Brinkley: “Naturally such conduct roused deep umbrage in Japan. It constituted a verdict that, whereas the Old Japan had been entitled to the respect and homage of neighboring Powers, the New might be treated with contumely.” Thus, just when the affairs of the newly centralized Government were assuming that condition of strength and harmony so imperatively demanded for the present welfare and future prospects of Japan, dissension arose among the Ministers of the Crown with regard to the policy to be pursued toward Korea. Bitterness of feeling had already been excited by the fact that when Japan returned to their country some shipwrecked Koreans, and accompanied this humane[193] act with other friendly advances, the advances were repulsed and the Court of Korea declined even to receive the envoy. And now, among the leaders of Japan, Saigo, Soyeshima, Itagaki, Goto, and Eto, insisted on war for the purpose of avenging the insult; Okubo, Iwakura, and Ito advocated peaceful means. Indeed, the so-called “Saga Party” was confederated with these two purposes chiefly in view: (1) the restoration of feudalism, and (2) the making of a punitive war upon Korea. The peace party triumphed; the Satsuma rebellion followed; and Japan made its first great contribution of treasure and blood toward the maintenance of friendly relations with a Korea that, nominally independent so far as its own selfish duplicity chose to consider it so, was virtually subservient to all manner of foreign intrigue and unscrupulous control.

This situation and the subsequent events, however, require a more detailed consideration. According to Brinkley, the great Saigo Takamori, who was a member of the Cabinet at this time, and who had been Chief of the Army and one of the most powerful agents in bringing about the Restoration, “saw in a foreign war the sole remaining chance of achieving his ambition by lawful means. The Government’s conscription scheme, yet in its infancy, had not produced even the skeleton of an army. If Korea had to be conquered, the samurai must be employed, and their employment would mean, if not their rehabilitation, at least their organization into a force which, under Saigo’s leadership, might dictate a new polity. Other members of the Cabinet believed that the nation would be disgraced if it tamely endured Korea’s insults. Thus several influential voices swelled the clamor for war. But a peace party offered strenuous opposition. Its members perceived the collateral issues of the problem, and declared that the country must not think of taking up arms during a period of radical transition.”[13]

The part of China at this time, as ever, in encouraging difficult and threatening relations between Japan and Korea cannot be overlooked. In the events of 1866 the Chinese did not maintain neutrality as between the forces of the Shogunate and of the Imperial party, but secretly sold arms to the former. They also engaged in the trade of kidnapping and selling the children of indigent Japanese.[14] When, after the treaty of 1871 was concluded (namely, in 1872), the natives of Formosa murdered some shipwrecked Loochoo islanders, the Peking Government declined to acknowledge any responsibility for the conduct of the natives of Formosa. And it was only through the offices of the British Minister that the Chinese, after procrastinating and vacillating, agreed to pay 100,000 taels to the families of the murdered, and 400,000 taels toward the cost of a punitive expedition which had been despatched against the Formosans.

In 1875 another envoy was sent to Korea, but he returned with the customary result; and in August of the same year a man-of-war en route to China, which had put into the harbor of Chemulpo for fuel and water, was fired upon by the Koreans. Whereupon the crew attacked and burned the Korean fortress. And now the same question recurred in a still more exasperating form: What shall Japan do with Korea, for whose bad conduct China, while claiming rights of suzerainty in all her foreign relations and actually exercising a determining influence over her internal affairs, nevertheless declines to be responsible; and who will not of herself regard any of those regulations, or common decencies of international intercourse, which modern civilization has established as binding upon all countries?

The considerations which prevailed on former occasions still held good when Korea offered this new affront. The peace party, of which Marquis Ito and Count Inouye were[195] prominent members—the former being also a member of the Cabinet—thought that it was Japan’s first duty to devote all her energies to the task of domestic improvement, while cultivating friendly relations with her neighbors. The problem which confronted the advocates of peace was not an easy one. Saigo was in retirement in his native province, surrounded by his devoted supporters, and it was easily to be seen that he would take umbrage if this new insult was allowed to pass unavenged, and would possibly make it the pretext for something more serious than mere remonstrance. The decision in favor of peace instead of war required a high order of courage. The state of public feeling on the subject and the powerful opposition on which the Government had to count was well illustrated by a petition presented nearly a year later by the Tosa Association, over the signature of Kataoka Kenkichi, afterward speaker of the Lower House of the Diet. Animadverting upon the Government’s action, the petition said:

This petition no doubt accurately reflects the state of public feeling at the time to which it refers. The Government did not, however, yield to the popular clamor for war, and this was due in no small measure to the efforts of Marquis Ito. He counselled patience and advised his colleagues from the outset that advantage should be taken of the opportunity to place the relations of Japan and Korea upon a new basis[196] by means of a treaty of peace and friendship. These moderate counsels prevailed and the Cabinet decided with the Imperial sanction to make the treaty, although two of its members, Shimadzu Saburo and Itagaki subsequently resigned.

Marquis Ito fully appreciated the obstacles which the alleged suzerainty of China opposed to the establishment of satisfactory treaty relations between Japan and Korea. Accordingly he devoted himself, with the assistance of M. Boissonade, the distinguished French publicist, and of Mr. Inouye, the well-known Japanese authority, to a careful study of this question. The decision reached was that the bond uniting China and Korea was not, either historically or according to the rules of international law, that of suzerain and vassal state. It therefore logically followed that Korea must be approached directly and dealt with as an independent Power. The importance of this decision cannot be overestimated. It was the first formal recognition of Korean national independence. More than that, it was the declaration on the part of Japan of a policy having in view the political, commercial and economical progress of her neighbor. By the treaty of 1876 Japan abandoned all of her own ancient claims to suzerainty and did what she could to place Korea upon the high road to prosperous national development which she herself was travelling. No friend of Japan will claim that it was an entirely altruistic policy. Her action was dictated as much by motives of intelligent self-interest as by consideration for Korea. The fate of the peninsular kingdom was of vital importance to Japan. As an appanage of China its condition was hazardous. China had from ancient times claimed suzerainty over all surrounding nations, but those claims had never proved a safeguard nor prevented the subjugation or absorption of these so-called vassal states by other Powers. In fact, they were an element of weakness in[197] quarrels where China herself was principal; for it might easily happen that the vassal would be exposed to attack, in case China herself could not easily be reached. This was especially the truth as regarded Korea, concerning whom China had given direct proof that while prepared to claim all the prerogatives of suzerainty when it implied no risk to herself, she was only too likely, when a strong Power threatened, to shirk all responsibility and abandon Korea to her fate. To treat with Korea as an independent nation and thus to set an example which would in all likelihood be followed by other Powers, seemed the best way of avoiding such a catastrophe. At the same time there was good reason to hope, even confidently to expect, that Korea, drawn into intimate intercourse with the world, would be freed from the trammels which prevented progress, and would gradually attain a condition where foreign aggression would be impossible.

Count Kuroda and Count Inouye were appointed First and Second Envoys, respectively, for the negotiation of the treaty. The representatives of the Treaty Powers were frankly informed of the objects of the mission. Before he left, Count Inouye called upon Mr. Bingham, the American Minister, who cordially sympathized with the Government’s intentions, and borrowed Bayard Taylor’s abridged history of Commodore Perry’s expedition. The Count said he feared that the Koreans might show signs of obduracy, in which case it would become necessary for his colleague and himself to have recourse to some of the measures which Commodore Perry found so efficacious. Inouye wished to have the book so that he could refresh his memory and be better perfected in the part if it became necessary to play it.[15]

As before intimated, the Japanese Government was anxious[198] that the Treaty of 1876 should be followed by like Treaties between Korea and other Powers. It cordially tendered its good offices when Commodore Shufeldt visited Japan previous to the negotiation of the treaty concluded by him, and on subsequent occasions did what was possible to facilitate the conclusion of other treaties with Korea. Its policy in that regard was illustrated in an interesting way by the statement of Count Inouye, then Minister for Foreign Affairs, to Mr. Bingham in 1882, with reference to the appointment of General Foote, the first American Minister to Korea. He said to Mr. Bingham, as the latter reported to Secretary Frelinghuysen, that the action of the American Government “in ratifying so promptly its treaty with Korea and accrediting a minister to that kingdom gave great satisfaction to His Imperial Japanese Majesty’s Government, and was accepted as another evidence of the policy of justice so often manifested by the United States toward the states of Asia.” He also said that it was considered an act of friendship toward Japan as well as Korea.

In considering all the subsequent relations of Japan and Korea two things should be kept distinctly in view as determining questions of justice and injustice, of wisdom or unwisdom, in the policy of both countries. In the first place: In order to conclude “a treaty of commerce and amity which recognized the independence of Korea,” Japan rather than engage in a punitive war, had encountered in its own territory a rebellion which cost the Government of the Restoration no less than 60,000 men and 416,000,000 yen. And second, in allowing this treaty to go through in the form which it actually took, China had been convicted of the duplicity and wholly untenable character of its claims to exercise the rights of suzerainty over Korea. On the latter point Minister Rockhill[16] affirms that the conclusion in 1876 of the treaty of[199] Kang-wha between Japan and Korea “marks the beginning of a new era in the history of the latter country, its entry into the family of nations.” “Prior to the Kang-wha treaty,” this authority goes on to say: “The nature of Korea’s relation to China was a puzzle to Western nations. They were told, at one and the same time, that Korea, though a vassal and tributary state of China, was entirely independent so far as her government, religion, and intercourse with foreign states were concerned—a condition of things hardly compatible with our ideas of either absolute dependence or complete independence.”

“In 1871 the Chinese Foreign Office wrote the United States Minister in Peking, Mr. Frederick F. Low, who had informed it of his recent appointment by his Government as special envoy to Korea, and was about proceeding there, that: ‘Korea is regarded as a country subordinate to China, yet is wholly independent in everything that relates to her government, her religion, her prohibitions, and her laws; in none of these things has China hitherto interfered.’”[17] But the first Article of the treaty signed in 1876 with Japan reads as follows: “Chosen, being an independent state, enjoys the same sovereign rights as does Japan”; and in 1882 the King of Korea wrote to the President of the United States, when the two countries were about to enter into treaty relations, pledging his Government that the terms of the treaty should be “carried into effect according to the laws of independent states.”

It was this not merely theoretical suzerainty, but a pernicious practice of interference and dictation on the part of China over Korea, joined to the utterly corrupt and weak government of the latter country, which led inevitably to the war between the former and Japan. Similar claims of the Government of Peking, under existing political and social[200] conditions, over the weaker states which were alleged to be dependencies of this Government, the civilized nations of the world have repeatedly found themselves compelled to disregard; and this, in the interests of the dependent people themselves.

The mental attitude and practical treatment which the Korean Court and Yang-ban class in general have accorded to the treaties with Japan and other foreign nations have been essentially unchanged from the beginning. All depends upon the apparent immediate effect of foreign intercourse on their ancient rights and privileges of office-bearing and official “squeezing.” The Mins, the family of the late Queen, have always been notoriously corrupt; and, if the Queen herself was ever sincerely opposed to the anti-foreign policy, it is likely that the opposition had its source in the selfish interests of her own family and in her hatred of the King’s father, the Tai Won Kun. The latter was always consistently and energetically opposed to all foreign intercourse.

The condition of affairs in Korea preceding the troubles of 1882 and 1884 is graphically and truthfully described by the report of Ensign George C. Foulk, of the United States Navy, in which he submitted to his Government information relative to the revolutionary attempt of the latter date. With regard to the Government of Korea, Ensign Foulk says that “it has been for an indefinite period under the practical control of the Min Family, of which the Queen of Korea is at present the highest representative. The blood of this family is largely Chinese, and it has been always, and remains, the desire and aim of this family to subject, and retain in subjection, their country to the suzerainty of China. Members of this family are accorded special privileges by China, and are, to the exclusion of other Korean noble families, on comparatively social terms with the Court of China, which they visit frequently. The family is very large, and includes the[201] highest number of great nobles, with the greatest landed estates, of all the families of the nobility in Korea.... The great body of Korean people know little or nothing of the politics of their Government, nor do they dare to use any information they may by chance possess on Government affairs.”

Ensign Foulk then goes on to draw attention to the remarkable phenomenon that, while the Chinese “are detested for their appearance, conduct and customs,” nothing by way of cruelty and fraud that they may do awakens practical resentment; but the Japanese, on the contrary, while “even admired by Koreans of the present day for their appearance, customs, and conduct,” are so hated that the “Koreans are always ready for the license when they may vent this feeling in shedding Japanese blood.” With regard to the real attitude of the Queen’s family, he further affirms: “This energy of the Mins [namely, in conducting negotiations for a treaty with the United States] has given them the mistaken reputation of being members of the progressive party in Korea; in fact, they only acted in obedience to their hereditary lord, China, without a thought patriotic to Korea, beyond that they, in common with all Koreans at that time, felt the danger of the seizure of a part of Korea by Russia.”

Now, however, the Tai Won Kun, the bitter enemy of the Queen, had his turn at the wheel on which the fate of this unfortunate country was revolving, first in one direction and then in the other. In July, 1882, taking advantage of disaffection among the soldiers of the capital, occasioned by short rations issued by the Mins (a “steal in army contracts”), he directed their revolt against that family, and, having disposed of its members, seized the Government for himself. Many Mins were killed; Min Tai-ho (father of Min Yong-ik) was left, supposed to be fatally wounded, in a ditch; poison was to be administered to the Queen, but a[202] maid, personating her in disguise, took the poison and died while the Queen escaped. Min Yong-ik shaved his head, and, after hiding in the mountains three days, walked to Fusan whence he escaped to Japan in the guise of a Buddhist priest. For his disobedience to its command and his attempt to annihilate its royal servants, the Mins, the Chinese Government sent its troops to Korea and carried off into banishment the Tai Won Kun; but the power of the Mins in China’s behalf having been greatly cut down by the revolt, Chinese troops were placed in Seoul to strengthen the remainder, and continued there after the revolt was suppressed.

It was, then, in connection with the armed interference of China in a domestic quarrel between the wife and the father of the Emperor,—China, which had repeatedly disclaimed all responsibility for Korean internal affairs and which had permitted Korea to make a foreign treaty on terms of equality,—that the Korean Court offered again, in 1882, another affront to Japan. This time, also, the insult was written in blood. For through no fault or offence on their part, a number of Japanese were killed in the course of a domestic riot, and the Japanese Minister was obliged to flee from the capital and to put to sea in a fishing boat, whence he was rescued by an English vessel. The provocation was greater than that for which western nations have frequently exacted exemplary vengeance, much greater than the offence given by the rebellious Daimyo of Choshin, for which the Treaty Powers had held Japan herself so strictly to account. Nevertheless, Japan made due allowance for the irresponsibility and weakness of the Korean Government. An apology, an indemnity of 550,000 yen (50,000 being for private sufferers), and a Convention of two articles defining treaty limits, etc. (signed August 30, 1882), were the sum of her demands. The payment of 400,000 yen of the indemnity was afterward[203] remitted. The instructions of the Emperor of Japan commanding this to be done contained the following declaration:

It is a curious coincidence that the Minister who, on the 9th of November, 1884, transmitted this message, was obliged only a few weeks later to flee from Seoul like his predecessor, on account of the perpetration of outrages against Japan, even greater than those for which the indemnity had been exacted.

This renewal of the stipulated condition of commerce and amity between Japan and Korea, with its renewed act of forgiveness on the part of the former toward the latter, only prepared the way for the more serious outrages of 1884. The Chinese force which was sent to support the anti-foreign and unprogressive policy of the Min family, proceeded to take up permanent quarters in extensive camps within the walls of Seoul. They erected a fort close by the palace gates and two others outside of the city, in a situation to defend the approaches from the river Han. A little later they increased the number of Chinese troops in Seoul to 3,000 men. In the opinion of Ensign Foulk, the confession forced from certain Korean officials revealed the truth that these foreign soldiers were quartered in the capital city in order to enforce a secret agreement between China and the Mins, representing Korea, which gave to the Peking Government rights of suzerainty such as it had never even claimed before.

Then began an increasingly bitter strife between the reactionary party, supported by Chinese soldiers, and the reform party, the leaders of which had been abroad (chiefly in Japan) and had returned determined to exert themselves to[204] bring about reforms and to introduce the benefits of Western civilization in their native land. Japan, however, had given the frankest and most sincere assurances that such troops as it kept in Korea were only for the defence of its own Legation, and that it aimed to assist Korea in all its efforts at progress. “From Japan,” says Ensign Foulk, “came a number of qualified Japanese, who were held in readiness to begin teaching the use of machinery, the manufacture of paper, pottery, etc. Steps were also taken towards securing a director of agriculture, school teachers, and several other foreigners for service under the Korean Government. In regard to these the initiatory steps were taken in consultation with the progressive leaders, including the King, in which I was warmly invited to have a voice.”[18] Gradually, however, in part through fear, in part through jealousy, and perhaps also with some degree, in certain cases, of more intelligent and honorable reasons, certain leading members of the progressive party fell more and more under Chinese influences.

How insolently the foreign soldiers from China during this period treated the Koreans may be learned from the following incident. In August, 1884, a Korean officer of high rank was openly seized by a party of Chinese soldiers and beaten by them in the street so severely that his life was despaired of; this was the outcome of a quarrel between the Chinese Commissioner and the Korean officer about the right of passage through a gateway of the Korean officer’s house, which was next to that of the Chinese officer. “On the contrary,” says Ensign Foulk, “the attitude of the Japanese in Seoul had always been such as to indicate an earnest desire to aid the party of progress, and to be on peaceable, friendly terms with the people. The conduct of Japanese citizens toward Koreans was commendable. As indicating great consideration on the part of the Japanese Government toward Korea,[205] was the restraint placed upon Japanese merchants establishing themselves in Seoul, by the Japanese Minister, who evidently in doing so followed the spirit of the treaties, by which the capital was not to be thrown open to trade if the Chinese left.”

When their factional strifes had the customary expression in revolution, arson, and bloodshed, the Koreans, aided by the Chinese soldiers, turned upon the Japanese. The subsequent occurrences and the way that the Japanese Government dealt with them are narrated in the words of one who was an eye-witness of, and an actor in, them:[19]

With subsequent occurrences I am personally familiar, having accompanied Count Inouye, Minister for Foreign Affairs, when he went as Special Ambassador to Korea to settle the difficulty.

This was another occasion when public excitement ran very high in Japan. The nation was clamoring for war with China, and the feeling of keen indignation in Army and Navy circles was strongly marked. Following so closely upon the events of 1882 this new outrage appeared to all classes to be the last straw. The Government, however, then under the premiership of Marquis Ito, was determined to have recourse to the last resort only after every means of honorable accommodation had been exhausted. As Marquis Ito’s mission to China subsequently showed, it was also determined to settle once and for all, so far as that could be done, the question of China’s right forcibly to interfere in Korean domestic brawls, which was really the gravest feature of the occurrence.

The choice of an official of Count Inouye’s high rank showed the importance which the government attached to the mission. The designation of Admiral Kabayama and General Takashima, typical representatives of the prevailing feeling in Army and Navy circles, to accompany him, was most sagacious. It was proof to[206] the Army and Navy, as well as to the people at large, that nothing would be done in the dark, and that no arrangement would be concluded in anywise damaging to Japan’s honor or prestige.

It must be confessed that there was good ground for indignation in Japan. A domestic revolution had taken place in Seoul, attended by many of the incidents common where government is “despotism tempered by assassination.” But neither Japan nor her agents were responsible for that. Mr. Takezoye, the Japanese Minister, had gone to the Palace with his bodyguard, at the King’s request, to guard the royal person. It was a technical mistake, no doubt on the Minister’s part, for he should not have interfered in the matter, or, at the most, should have asked the King to come to the Legation. But there can be no doubt that he acted in good faith. He was an amiable scholar rather than a diplomat and had always maintained the most cordial personal relations with the King. The latter was never in any sense a prisoner in his hands, as was shown conclusively by the visit of the foreign representatives. The populace of Seoul, egged on by the conservatives, took a different view, however, as did also the large force of Chinese troops gathered at the Chinese Legation. The former slaughtered all the Japanese they could reach, and the latter, some 3,000 in number, in company with several hundred Korean soldiers, attacked the Japanese soldiers. The little Japanese force (143 in number, not 400 as Hulbert states) beat them off with heavy loss, without themselves suffering any serious casualties. By that time, however, the conservatives had gained the upper hand in the palace. The King informed Mr. Takezoye that he did not require further assistance from him, preferring to be guarded by his own soldiers; whereupon the Minister, as in duty bound, returned to the Legation. He found his position untenable, however, and resolved to go to Chemulpo. There were about 200 non-combatants at the Legation to be cared for, among them many women and children. Guarding these as best they could the little band of soldiers started for the city gate through streets filled with a hostile mob. It was a dangerous march; a march which foreigners who were in Seoul at the time described to me with admiration. Numbers of armed Koreans were gathered[207] to oppose it, not the least formidable being those who threw stones and other missiles from the house tops. At one point some Korean soldiers brought out Gatling guns, but these were charged and disabled before any use could be made of them. The Japanese forced their way, finally, through the West Gate, and thence on to Chemulpo, with casualties of one killed and a number wounded. The Legation was looted and set on fire several hours after it was deserted, and was completely destroyed.

Mr. Takezoye was at Chemulpo when Count Inouye arrived on the 31st of December. The Count was also met by Mr. von Mollendorff, a high official of the Chinese Customs, detailed for duty in Korea, who likewise acted in a diplomatic capacity. Count Inouye informed him that he intended to go to Seoul at once and to demand an audience at the earliest practicable moment. Mr. von Mollendorff had various reasons to urge for delay, but Count Inouye swept them aside, and the Embassy proceeded to Seoul the next day; it was accompanied by about 400 soldiers, a smaller force having been left at Chemulpo. In Seoul, where they arrived that night, the Ambassador and suite were lodged in the yamen of the Governor of the City, just outside the West Gate. The same night the Ambassador presented his formal request for an immediate audience. It met with the customary Oriental reception: His Majesty was not in robust health; the Ambassador himself must be tired and in need of rest after his long journey; the attention of His Majesty was occupied with preparations for a fitting reception of His Excellency, and so on. Mr. von Mollendorff was kept very busy running back and forth, but finally it was made clear to the minds of the King’s advisers that Count Inouye meant exactly what he said, and that disagreeable things might happen if he did not have his way.

The audience was finally appointed for January 3d. On the morning of that day the cavalcade set forth, a military band trained by a foreign band-master in the van; then a mounted guard of honor; then the Ambassador, accompanied by Admiral Kabayama and General Takashima and followed by his secretaries, and bringing up the rear a company of infantry. As[208] the procession passed through the Gate and emerged into the wide street leading to the East Gate, a curious and inspiriting spectacle presented itself. The morning was fresh and clear; the air crisp and invigorating, and the broad, sunny street as far as the eye could see was one mass of gaily clad humanity, men dressed in coats of every color, white, as is usual, predominating. The crowds parted before the head of the procession like waves beneath the prow of a ship; the Korean police ran alongside plying their many-thonged whips with indiscriminate zeal; and then, as if to add the last queer touch to the whole proceeding, the band struck up “Dixie.”

Nor did odd happenings end here. When the procession arrived at the triple gates of the Palace, the centre gate was closed. Count Inouye halted the line immediately and demanded the reason. It was explained by Mr. Mollendorff that the centre gate was reserved for the King, and that the side gates were used by the highest dignitaries. Count Inouye replied that he was an Ambassador, the personal representative of his sovereign, and that as such he could not pass through an inferior entrance. Back went the messenger behind the barred gate, and in a few minutes appeared again breathlessly explaining that to their great chagrin and regret, royal etiquette, binding upon His Majesty as upon his lowest subject, could not be disregarded. Upon that Count Inouye blandly retorted that he also was bound by etiquette, immutable and unchangeable; and that if the gate was not opened within three minutes, much to his regret he would be obliged to retrace his steps and to report to his Imperial Master this new slight to Japan. The gate was opened without further delay.

After that the audience passed off smoothly. Count Inouye was careful to impress upon the King’s mind, as upon the minds of his advisers, that while his mission was one of peace, much depended upon the sincerity and promptitude with which Korea met Japan’s just demands for redress and upon the guarantees she gave against the recurrence of like causes of complaint. The negotiations throughout were conducted in that spirit. The Ambassador was kindly and considerate, but would tolerate no paltering or double-dealing. He couched his demands in firm but[209] friendly language, made every allowance for the embarrassing position in which the King found himself, placed the responsibility for what had happened where it belonged, but made it very clear all the while that neither he nor his government would be trifled with. This was shown in a sensational way at the first formal meeting of the Ambassador with the Korean plenipotentiaries. The meeting had hardly convened when suddenly a bustle was heard in the courtyard, and, without further notice, the Chinese Consul-General entered, suavely bowing to those present. Paying no attention to him, Count Inouye sprang to his feet and demanded of the Chief Korean Plenipotentiary what the intrusion meant, and whether the Chinese official had ventured upon this extraordinary step with his knowledge and consent. If that were the case, he would regard it as his duty to break off the negotiations at once, for the Japanese Government would not tolerate for a moment any interference of that kind, and would warmly resent Korea’s connivance with it. There was a hasty disavowal on the Korean side, the Consul-General lamely adding that as China and Japan and Korea were friends, and as the matter under discussion was of interest to all three, he had come of his own accord to participate in a friendly way in the proceedings. He thereupon withdrew somewhat less blithely than he had entered. Count Inouye then repeated what he had said and gave the Korean plenipotentiaries clearly to understand that he would not tolerate the repetition of such childish antics, but would regard them, if again attempted, as reason for the gravest offence. This warning had its effect; the negotiations thereafter proceeded expeditiously and the Convention was signed on the 9th of January. It stipulated an apology; the payment of an indemnity of 110,000 yen to the relatives of the murdered and the merchants who had been plundered; the punishment of the murderers of Captain Isobayashi, military attaché; the furnishing of sites for legation and consulate, materials for building the same, and 20,000 yen to pay the cost of construction; the building of barracks for Japanese troops adjacent to the Legation; and further that the murderers of Captain Isobayashi should be punished within twenty days after the convention was signed.

The events of 1882 and 1884 had emphasized what the entire history of the relations of Japan and Korea had made manifest—namely, that some distinct understanding with China must be reached if the two neighboring countries were ever to live together in peace. The task of establishing such an understanding was assigned to Marquis Ito, and in the spring of 1885 he proceeded to China as Japan’s special Ambassador. Li Hung Chang, who was then Viceroy of Chi-li, was the Ambassador appointed by the Peking Government. The latter appointment was the more significant because Li was supposed to entertain a profound distrust and dislike of the Japanese; moreover, Yuan Shi Kai, whose subsequent career has been so important in the politics of the Far East, and who had been in command of the Chinese soldiers at the time of their slaughter of the Japanese in 1884, was a protégé of Li’s. In spite of the inherent difficulties, the broad statesmanship and frankness of the Marquis overcame them; and the intercourse of these two men, whose personality and policy afterward had so much to do with the history of their respective countries, resulted in their becoming friends. The Chinese statesman expressed regret that he had not met Ito before, since he had now for the first time gained a correct conception of Japan’s policy; he even went so far as to ask the Marquis to mention the need of governmental reforms to the Dowager Empress of China, who became angry at him, her own Viceroy, when he ventured to refer to the matter before her.

On the 18th of April, 1885, a Convention was signed which was intended to prevent in the future all recurrence of events similar to those of the previous December. The important point of this Convention is that both sides pledged themselves against armed interference in Korea except in pressing emergencies and after mutual consultation. This agreement, while it saved the “face” of China—a matter so imperatively[211] important from the Chinese point of view—was a virtual abandonment of her claim of suzerainty; for it gave to Japan, which made no such claim, equal interest in the internal affairs of Korea and equal right to send troops into its territory, in case the judgment of both countries recognized such a need. The agreement also promised good for Korea herself, since it made the use of Chinese or Japanese soldiers in control of Korean affairs more unlikely for trifling reasons; and, on the other hand, it safeguarded her against other foreign armed intervention as the result of her domestic intrigues.

The story of what followed and led up to the war with Japan is, briefly, as follows: The stipulations of this Convention were observed by Japan both in letter and in spirit, and by China, upon the surface at least. For a few years neither Power sent troops to Korea; and China ceased to flaunt the claim to suzerainty before her neighbor’s face. But she still cherished the fiction and sought to maintain by indirection, and by means peculiarly Chinese, what she had failed to uphold in the open. Thus, in 1887, as stated in Moore’s Digest of International Law: “The Chinese Government sought to prevent the departure of a Korean envoy to the United States on the ground of the dependent relation of Korea toward China. The American Minister at Peking was instructed to express surprise and regret at this action on the part of the Chinese Government. The envoy finally set out on his journey, but when he arrived in the United States the Chinese Minister at Washington wrote the Department of State to the effect that the Korean envoy would, on his arrival there, report to the Chinese Legation, and would be presented through it to the Department of State; after which he might apply for an opportunity to present his credentials to the President.

“The Korean envoy, on the day after his arrival in Washington,[212] addressed a note to Mr. Bayard, as Secretary of State, asking for an interview to arrange for the presentation of his credentials to the President. Such an arrangement was duly made, and the envoy was presented without the intervention of the Chinese Minister. ‘As the United States,’ said Mr. Bayard, ‘have no privity with the interrelations of China and Korea, we shall treat both as separate governments customarily represented here by their respective and independent agents.’”

So unmistakable a declaration as this from a friendly, impartial Power would, it might reasonably be thought, have caused China to abandon her shadowy pretensions. It did not have that effect, however. Her agents in Korea committed no overt act which was likely to provoke remonstrance from the Treaty Powers; but they lost no opportunity of preserving in the Korean mind at least the fiction of dependency upon China. Yuan Shi Kai, for example, “Claimed, and to a large extent obtained, the position of Chinese Resident at Seoul. His official title was ‘Director General Resident in Korea of Diplomatic and Consular Relations,’ and his substantive rank in his own country was that of Intendant of Circuit, a rank corresponding, according to the Anglo-Chinese Treaty, to that of a Consul.... Resident Yuan was permitted to proceed to the Audience Hall in his chair and to be seated in the presence of the King, privileges not accorded to the representatives of the other Powers.” (Wilkinson’s The Government of Korea.) The privileges thus claimed by this representative of China were obtained in the course of several years after the conclusion of the Convention of 1885. They were largely ceremonial in character and none of the representatives of the Treaty Powers ever recognized the right of the so-called Resident to interfere in any manner in their business with the Korean Government. Whatever there was peculiar in his relations[213] to that Government was a question of an understanding, practically secret, and never formally enunciated or recognized, between the Korean Court and himself. The conditions then prevailing in Korea were highly conducive to the existence of such anomalies. An amiable but weak King; a corrupt Court and Government, with two powerful factions struggling for supremacy and stopping at nothing to gain it—these were ideal conditions for the exercise of Chinese diplomacy. It accomplished nothing in the end, however, even in the hands of such an astute and able man as Yuan Shi Kai. Japan, of course, never recognized his pretensions, but, biding her time and always dealing with Korea as an independent state, devoted herself to the promotion of the rapidly growing commercial and industrial interests of her people in the peninsula.

Naturally neither the Government nor the people of Japan could view without resentment the attempts on China’s part to maintain rights she had already practically surrendered. But this feeling did not assume a definite form until the assassination of Kim Ok Kiun at Shanghai, in March, 1894, and the arrest of a confederate of the murderer in Japan, who confessed that he was officially commissioned to murder another one of the Korean political refugees. These events aroused a storm of indignation in Japan. What followed added fuel to the flames. The murderer and the body of his victim were conveyed on board a Chinese man-of-war to Korea. The murderer was rewarded and the severed parts of Kim’s body were publicly exhibited in different parts of Seoul. Rightly or wrongly this barbarous act, against which the foreign representatives at the instance of the Japanese Minister unofficially protested, was attributed to the Queen’s party. The excitement it caused had not subsided when, in May, came the “Tong Hak” rebellion. The Tong Haks were religious fanatics, the chief article of whose creed was[214] said to be the massacre of all foreigners. Seoul was rife with rumors, and the utmost alarm and confusion prevailed. According to the report of the American Minister, the rebellion was practically suppressed on the 3d of June by Korean troops; and on the 8th of June the Government officially announced that it was at an end. In the meantime, however, the Chinese Government, without previous notice to Japan or mutual consultation, as stipulated in the Convention of 1885, sent a force of 2,000 troops to Korea, which on June 10th landed at A-San, about forty miles south of Chemulpo, ostensibly to suppress the rebellion. The American Minister, Mr. Sill, in his report on the subject to the Department of State, says that “this was done at Korean request, dictated and insisted on by Yuan, the Chinese Resident.” Learning of the purpose to send troops, the Japanese Government promptly remonstrated with the Government at Peking, and in reply was informed (after the act) that the troops had been sent because urgently needed to suppress disorders in “the vassal state.” There was no explanation and no apology beyond this palpable and contemptuous violation of the terms of the Convention of 1885. There was but one possible response. On the same day that the Chinese troops landed, a force of Japanese marines was sent to the capital, to be replaced a few days later by a larger body of soldiers. The scene of the struggle was then transferred to Seoul. The Korean Government, having brought the trouble on its own head, showed its usual impotence. It begged both Japan and China to leave, and sought aid from the foreign representatives in the effort to persuade them to do so. China was quite willing to accede to these appeals. Possibly her agent on the spot, it may even be the Government at Peking, was startled by the promptitude with which Japan had accepted the challenge. In any event, China had nothing to lose and much to gain by doing as Korea asked. She could[215] leave the scene with flying banners, having shown that Korea was in fact her vassal; that the Convention was waste paper and that Japan could be flouted with impunity. Naturally this programme did not commend itself to Japan. According to her view of the situation there were certain vital questions to be settled before the troops were withdrawn. Foremost among these was the decision of Korea’s actual status; then, subsidiary to this, but none the less important, the adoption of certain reforms which, while improving the public administration and promoting the common weal, would prevent the recurrence of disturbances which were a constant menace to the welfare of Korea and her neighbors. Accordingly, the Japanese Minister presented a memorial on the proposed reforms and demanded a categorical statement as to whether Korea was a vassal of China or not.

Regarding the latter demand the American Minister reports that “This caused great consternation,” since if they (the Korean Government) answered in the negative they would offend China, while an affirmative answer would bring down the wrath of Japan. After many consultations and several reminders to be prompt from the Japanese, an answer was given in this sense: “Korea, being an independent state, enjoys the same sovereign rights as does Japan (see Treaty of Kang-wha, 1876), and that ‘in both internal administration and foreign intercourse Korea enjoys complete independence’ (see letter of the King to the President of the United States). They supposed that by thus quoting the treaties which China allowed them to make she cannot take offence, while Japan should be content with such an answer.”

The breaking out of hostilities between China and Japan was, of course, the occasion of renewal in acute form of internal strife between the conservative and the progressive forces in Korea. But for the time being the progressive forces, backed by the dominance of the Japanese, were the stronger.[216] On the 5th of August, 1894, the Korean treaty with China was denounced; on the 15th of the same month it was formally abrogated by the Korean Government; and on the 19th notice of an entirely new plan of Government was officially issued. On September 3d Marquis Saionji, special Ambassador from the Emperor of Japan, had an audience with the King and presented him with gifts, in honor of his accession to the position of an independent sovereign. Numerous reforms[20] which had been discussed in the Korean Council on July 31st of this same year and agreed upon as laws to be submitted to His Majesty for his approval, instead of being sincerely, wisely, and perseveringly enacted and enforced, became the causes of increased defection, intrigue, and internal dissensions.

The rebellion (referred to above as the “Tong Hak” rebellion), which had been reported as suppressed the previous June, broke out in a still more dreadful form on the first of October (1894). The Korean rebels became a “disorganized pillaging mob.” Taxes were no longer paid; Korean officials were robbed and mutilated or murdered; small parties of the Japanese were attacked and tortured to death after the traditional manner of the nation. Meantime the Japanese forces were quite uniformly victorious both by land and by sea; and on October 9th the last of the Chinese forces were driven across the Yalu River. A solemn “oath, sworn at the royal temple by His Majesty the King of Korea, while he worshipped, on the 12th day of the twelfth moon of the five hundred and third year of the foundation of Ta Chosen” (January 7, 1895), bound him to “give up all idea of subjection to China and to labor firmly to establish the independence of Korea”; “to decide all political affairs in council with[217] his Cabinet”; “to prevent Her Majesty the Queen, his concubines, and all the royal relations from interfering in affairs of state,” thus securing a separation between their affairs and those of the royal household; and to introduce and foster other reforms of a political and educational character. How poorly His Majesty kept his solemn oath, the subsequent history of his throne and of his nation abundantly shows.

By the Chino-Japan war the dominating and baleful influence of China was for all time removed, and to Korea was secured the opportunity for an independent and progressive national development under the guidance, and by the assistance, of Japan. That the Government of Japan honestly wished for this good to come to Korea, there is no reasonable ground of doubt. That the good did not follow is, however, due to the fault of both nations. As regards the character and conduct of the average political reformer there is a marked similarity between the Japanese and the Koreans. Such a one is apt to be over-confident, and even self-conceited; to have only a scanty acquaintance with the fundamental principles of politics and of statesmanship; to be lacking in a judicial estimate of the difficulties to be overcome; to make use (often with an apparent preference for them) of offensive rather than conciliatory means; and to have no adequate apprehension of the value of time, and of the necessity of securing time, in order to effect important changes in national affairs. Neither has he learned the art of compromise in consistency with the maintenance of important moral principles. That Japan has not hitherto failed in reforming herself as conspicuously as Korea is chiefly due, after making proper allowances for the different environments of the two nations, to the great difference in the character of the two Emperors who have been upon their thrones during the period of trial; to the fact that Japan has had a body of most conspicuously wise leaders—something[218] Korea has completely lacked; and to the difference as respects the essential spirit of loyalty among the people which the feudal system developed in Japan, but which has never been to any extent developed in Korea.

The complete inability of the Korean official to comprehend, or to sympathize with, the motives which led the representatives of Japan—first, Mr. Otori and then Count Inouye—to urge the adoption of administrative reforms may be judged by the fact that the King’s father, the Tai Won Kun, handed to Inouye on his arrival as Minister at Seoul a list of sixty persons whom he wished to have forthwith executed in order to secure himself in control of affairs. Squabbles for power between the party of the Queen and the party of the Tai Won Kun therefore continued and even became increasingly acute. The Korean hot-head progressives were pushing reforms without sufficient regard to the existing conditions. But for a time the presence of a real statesman as the representative of Japan in Korea kept the evil forces in check.

Count Inouye’s appointment to the post of Minister was an eloquent proof of the profound interest which the Japanese Government took in Korea, and of its earnest desire to aid her in the promotion of domestic reform and progress. On the Count’s part, personally, the acceptance of such a task, difficult and in many ways distasteful, was an exhibition of self-sacrificing patriotism, to which the present action of his bosom friend and associate, Marquis Ito, affords a striking parallel. While striving to reconcile the warring Korean factions, he devoted himself to the improvement of administrative conditions and to the promotion of the public welfare. He attained a measure of success in some directions, and would undoubtedly have achieved more lasting success had it been possible for him to remain longer in Korea. His singleness of purpose was recognized by many Koreans, and the sincerity of his endeavors to benefit Korea was acknowledged[219] by foreign observers. But the task was too heavy for the time he could devote to it.

Finally, other more imperative duties called Count Inouye home, and he was succeeded by Viscount Miura, a man of a different stamp. Then followed the murder of the Queen, with all its unhappy train of consequences. Although the crime was undoubtedly concocted by the Queen’s implacable enemy, the Tai Won Kun, the Japanese Government never sought to evade the share of responsibility imposed upon it. The tragedy was a far severer blow to Japanese interests than to those of Korea, for the Queen alive, and even still bitterly hostile to Japan, could never have worked the harm that the manner of her taking-off had caused. And, indeed, while apology for this murder from the moral point of view cannot be justified, in spite of the cruel character of the victim and of the fact that there was then visited upon her only the same treatment which she had herself given to scores and hundreds of others, when considered from the diplomatic point of view the act was even more foolish and reprehensible.

The following account from Hershey[21] gives in brief, but with sufficient detail for our purposes, the events of this period:—

“This disgusting crime,” Hershey goes on to say, “although it assured the power of the reform Cabinet for the time being, reacted upon its perpetrators, and was followed, four months later, by another equally revolting, by means of which Russia gained control of the Government of Korea. In January, 1896, there took place a slight uprising in Northern Korea, at the instigation, it was said, of pro-Russian leaders. When the major portion of the army had been sent out of the capital to suppress the rebellion, 127 Russian marines with a cannon suddenly landed at Chemulpo on February 10, and immediately entered Seoul. The next day the King, accompanied by the Crown Prince and some court ladies, fled in disguise to the Russian Legation, where he remained until February 20, 1897.”

Following this escapade the Prime Minister, Kim Hong Chip, a man widely respected and in no way connected with the murder of the Queen, and Chung Pyang Ha, equally innocent of the same crime, were deliberately thrust forth from the palace gates into the hands of the waiting mob, which, in true Korean fashion, tore them limb from limb. Another Minister was killed a few days later in the country. Thus ended Japan’s attempt to enter into friendly relations with Korea while the latter nation was in the anomalous condition of an independent dependency of China. Two valuable results, however, had been reached: Korea had been definitively and finally delivered from Chinese control and dominating influence; and her own inability to stand alone and to inaugurate the needed reforms had been, it would seem, quite sufficiently demonstrated. Japan, on the other hand, had not as yet shown her ability wisely to inaugurate and[221] effectively to secure these reforms; and by the injudicious action of her representative in Korea she had thrown the temporary control of the Korean Court into the selfish and intriguing hands of other foreigners. The events of the next decade, therefore, led logically and irresistibly forward to a yet more desperate struggle, at a yet more frightful cost, to solve the Korean problem.

The conclusion of the centuries of intricate and unsatisfactory relations between these two countries was, to quote the words of another, that “Japan saw herself deposed from the position in Korea to which her victories entitled her, by a nation which appeared to be both an upstart and a usurper on the Sea of Japan.”[22] For three and a quarter centuries Russia had been advancing through Asia at the average rate of 20,000 square miles annually; and now, in the endeavor, in itself laudable, to secure an outlet on the Pacific for her Asiatic possessions, she began extending her customary policy over Manchuria and the Peninsula. It is doubtful whether the Korean King, when he took refuge in the Russian Legation at Seoul, was really alarmed for his personal safety; it is certain that he hated intensely the reform measures which had been forced upon him, and the men among his own subjects who were committed to those measures. His life was, however, never in any real danger at this period. His presence and his position at the Russian Legation, during his entire stay there, was lacking in all semblance of royal dignity. He was himself in the virtual custody of a foreign power. The different Cabinet Ministers had their places assigned in the dining-room of the Legation, behind screens;—“all except one lucky individual who secured[223] quarters for his exclusive use in an abandoned out-house where wood and coal were usually stored.”

There began now a game of manœuvring and intrigue in which, for some years to come, the Japanese were to be at a large disadvantage. The King, who has always shown himself irrevocably committed to the peculiar methods of Korean politics, within two weeks of the day on which he had taken refuge in the Russian Legation, began secretly communicating with the Japanese Minister. The Russian Minister at that time, who has been pronounced “probably the most adroit representative of her interests whom Russia ever had in Korea,” proclaimed himself an unwilling victim of the King’s fear, which he regarded as hysterical, but could not, in common decency, fail to respect. The Japanese were in no position to resent the insult or to foreguard against the menace which all this involved.

Not unnaturally, the Russian representative undertook promptly to avail his country of the especially favorable opportunity for promoting its interests in the Far East which was offered by the intimate relations of protection established over the Korean Government. For it should never be lost out of mind that until years after these events, whoever had dominating influence with the Korean monarch controlled, in largest measure, the Korean Government. M. Waeber, among other material benefits, secured valuable mining and timber concessions for his countrymen; it was also, probably, due to his influence that the Korean troops which had been trained by the Japanese, were disbanded. There then followed a radical change in the policy of Japan, which is described as follows by Hershey:[23]

The Protocol of June, 1896, was no sooner signed than Russia proceeded to violate its terms. In the same month she tried to gain control of the Korean army by placing it under Russian instruction and discipline; in the same year, she urged the request that the disposal of all the Korean taxes and customs be placed in the hands of M. Kir Alexeieff. This plan was partly carried through the following year, and Mr. J. McLeavy Brown was dismissed from the position of Financial Adviser and General Director of Customs for Korea, although he was soon after formally restored to the latter office, the control of which he had never been, in fact,[225] induced to surrender. In August of 1897, M. de Speyer succeeded M. Waeber as the Representative of Russia (Conseiller d’Etat) in Korea; his conduct of Russian affairs, which seems to have been quite devoid of the conciliatory policy of his predecessor, lost for his country many of the advantages which had already been secured. Besides the inducement from this fact, the recent acquisition of Port Arthur and Ta-lien-wan seemed to make it desirable for Russia, for the time being at least, to conciliate Japan. And Japan, on her part, definitively committed herself to the effort to conciliate Russia, while at the same time safeguarding her own important, and indeed essentially vital, interests in the Peninsula. Accordingly there was concluded between the two nations the Nishi-Rosen Protocol of August 25, 1898.

Five days later—namely, on August 30th—Marquis Ito, who was visiting in Korea, and had been cordially received by the Emperor and invited to dine with him, publicly reaffirmed the policy for which His Imperial Majesty of Japan and he himself, as His Majesty’s subject, wished to be responsible,[226] in a speech delivered at a dinner given at the Foreign Office. On that occasion the Marquis spoke as follows:

With the coming of M. Pavloff to Korea as its Representative, in December, 1898, the diplomacy of Russia in this part of the Orient abandoned the traditional method of patient, persistent effort at advance, together with more or less perfect assimilation of the new tribes and peoples brought under its control, and adopted the more brilliant but dangerous policy of a swift promotion of obviously selfish schemes by a mixture of threats and cajolery. It is not even now certain how far this policy was supported by, or even known to, the home government of Russia. The war with Japan, to which these acts led steadily and irresistibly forward, seemed, only in its actual results, to reveal at all fully to this Government what its representatives had been doing in the Far East.

Among the various attempts of M. Pavloff and his coadjutors to obtain concessions for themselves and for their country, those which looked toward the establishment of a Russian naval base in certain localities of the Korean coast were threatening to Japan. “But Russia’s conduct on the Northern frontier of Korea along the Tumen and Yalu rivers was”—to quote again from Hershey—“the greatest source of anxiety to Japan.”

In this connection it should be said, that while the Korean Government did not formally renew the lease, the Emperor did secretly enter into an arrangement with M. Pavloff concerning Yong-am-po, practically conceding all that was asked on Russia’s behalf. This document was discovered after the war began and hastily cancelled by the Emperor, of his own accord, upon the recommendation of the Korean Minister for Foreign Affairs.

Meantime another conflict of interests between Russia and Japan was developing and contributing to the same result—namely, the Russo-Japanese war. This was the so-called “Manchurian Question.” It is not necessary for the purposes of our narrative to trace with any detail the origin and different stages of that succession of successful intrigues and encroachments upon foreign territory which had been for some time carried on with the Chinese by methods similar to those now being employed in Korea. Some of the more salient points in the history of the preceding period of nearly a half-century need, however, to be called to mind. In 1860, when the allied forces occupied Peking, the Russian Minister, General Ignatieff, by a brilliant stroke of diplomacy, secured for his country the cession of the maritime province of Manchuria, with 600 miles of coast, and the harbor of Vladivostok, down to the mouth of the Tumen. For this he gave nothing in return beyond the pretence that it was in his power to bring pressure upon the allies and thus secure their more speedy evacuation of the Chinese capital.

Thirty years later, after the new province had been developed and the harbor of Vladivostok converted into a powerful fortress, Russia determined upon building an all-rail route across Siberia, and immediately began to press for other concessions in Chinese territory that in 1897 resulted in the association which constructed what is now known as the Manchurian Railway. This enterprise was ostensibly a joint affair of the two countries; but it has been fitly described as “only a convenient bonnet” for an essentially Russian undertaking. Russian engineers now came in large numbers to Manchuria; Russian Cossacks accompanied them for purposes of their protection. Later in the same year the seizure by Germany of Kiao-chau, in satisfaction for outrages committed upon German missionaries, was followed by Russia’s request to the Chinese Government for permission to winter[230] her fleet at Port Arthur. In March of the next year Japan had the added mortification, bitterness, and cause for alarm, of seeing Russia demand and obtain from China a formal lease of the same commercial and strategic points of the peninsula of Liao-tung of which Russia, by combining with Germany and France, had deprived Japan when she had won them by conquest in war. These enterprises in Manchuria were financed by the Russo-Chinese Bank, an institution which had recently been founded in the Far East as a branch of the Russian Ministry of Finance. So important is this last-mentioned fact that one writer places upon M. Pokotiloff, Chief of the Russo-Chinese Bank in Berlin, the responsibility for the whole Port Arthur episode, and declares it was he who dictated the policy of Russia in Manchuria after the Boxer uprising.[24]

The occupation of Port Arthur and Ta-lien-wan (renamed Dalny) was accompanied by assurances from the Russian Government—chiefly designed to quiet Great Britain and Japan—that it had “no intention of infringing the rights and privileges guaranteed by existing treaties between China and foreign countries;” and that no interference with Chinese sovereignty was contemplated. To the objections raised when it proceeded to fortify Port Arthur, the reply was made that Russia “must have a safe harbor for her fleet, which could not be at the mercy of the elements at Vladivostok or dependent upon the good-will of Japan.” Under this plea she refused to change the status of Port Arthur as a closed and principally military port. The effect of all this upon the attitude of public feeling in Japan toward Russia can easily be imagined. Even when, in August, 1899, the port of Dalny was declared “open” by an Imperial ukase, regulations with respect to passports and claims to a monopoly of mining[231] rights continued to lessen the confidence of other nations in Russia’s good faith with respect to the occupation of Manchuria. It is now sufficiently well established that during this period secret agreements between Li Hung Chang and the Russian Government were made which enlarged the special privileges of Russia in Manchuria. Meantime, also, her military hold was being strengthened; so that by December, 1898, she had 20,000 men at her two ports, while Cossack guards—“the pennons on their lances showing a combination of the Russian colors and the Chinese dragon”—were patrolling the railway line and protecting the work of fortification at Port Arthur.

During these years the Japanese Government was watching with quiet but painful solicitude the movements going forward in China. When Marquis Ito visited Peking and the Yangtse provinces in the summer of 1898, he was received with marked attention, especially by the reform party among the leading Chinese officials; but the baleful influence of the Dowager-Empress, and of the party opposed to everything likely to curtail their power, arrested the attempts at rapprochement between China and Japan. It was the so-called “Boxer Movement,” however, which gave to Russia a new claim of right to interfere in Chinese affairs and to establish more firmly than ever before her special privileges in Manchuria. The history of this movement—of the way in which Russia dealt with its extension into Manchuria, of the siege of Peking and the doings of the allied forces, and of the subsequent behavior of the Russians with regard to the evacuation of Manchuria—is now well known, or easily accessible, by all students of the period.

In spite of repeated promises to evacuate the points seized and held by Russian forces when, after the relief of the Legations, these forces were withdrawn from Peking and Chi-li to be concentrated in Manchuria, and in disregard of the[232] interests of the other allies, the policy of keeping all that she had gained, and of gaining more as far as possible, was steadily pursued by Russia. On November 11, 1900, an agreement was made between the Representative of Admiral Alexeieff and the Tartar General at Mukden, the most significant point of which was the promise of the Chinese official to provide the Russian troops with lodging and provisions, to disarm and disband all Chinese soldiers and hand over all arms and ammunition to the Russians, and to dismantle all forts and defences not occupied by the Russians.

It was the probable effect of a continued occupation of Manchuria by Russia upon their business interests which led Great Britain and America to wish that the repeated Russian assurances of good faith toward China and toward all foreign nations should manifest themselves in works. The case could not be wholly the same with Japan. Her interests of trade were, indeed, if not at the time so large, more close and vital than those of any other nation outside of China. But her other interests were incomparable. So that when Russia failed to carry out her engagements, even under a convention which was so much in her favor, there was a revival of suspicion and apprehension on the part of the Japanese Government and the Japanese people. Manchuria and Korea both pointed an index finger of warning directed toward Russia.

It was to further a peaceful adjustment of all the disturbed condition of the interests of Russia and Japan in the Far East that Marquis Ito went, on his way home from his visit to the United States, at the end of 1901, on an unofficial mission to St. Petersburg. The failure of the overtures which he bore discouraged those of the leading Japanese statesmen who were hoping for some reconciliation which might take the shape of allowing Russian ascendency in Manchuria and Japanese ascendency in Korea. It also strengthened the conviction which prevailed among the younger statesmen that[233] the St. Petersburg Government regarded Manchuria as not only its fortress in the Far East, but also as its path to the peninsula lying within sight of Japan’s shores. “The Japanese Government,” says Mr. D. W. Stevens, “at last felt that the vital interests of Japan might be irrevocably jeopardized in Korea as well as in Manchuria, if it continued to remain a mere passive spectator of Russian encroachments; and in August, 1903, it resolved to take a decisive step. In the most courteous form and through the usual diplomatic channels Japan intimated at St. Petersburg that her voice must be heard, and listened to, in connection with Far Eastern questions in which her interests were vitally concerned.” The answer of Russia was the appointment of Admiral Alexeieff as Viceroy over the Czar’s possessions in the Far East, with executive and administrative powers of a semi-autocratic character.

But let us return to Korea and inquire: What was the policy with which its Emperor and his Court met the exceedingly critical situation into which the country was being forced by the conflict going on between Russia and Japan both within, and just outside of, its borders? The answer is not dubious. It was the policy, in yet more aggravated form, of folly, weakness, intrigue, and corruption, both in the administration of internal affairs and also in the management of the now very delicate foreign relations. The Emperor was—to use the descriptive phrase of another—enjoying “an orgy of independence.” The former restraints which had been imposed upon him by Chinese domination, by the personal influence of the Tai Won Kun, or of the Queen, by his fears of the reformers, and even by any passive emotional impulses of his own, leading to reformation, were now all removed. While he was a “guest” at the Russian Legation there was certainly no direct influence exerted by his hosts, to assist, advise, or guide him into better ways. It was not the policy of Russia to[234] effect—at least for the present or immediately prospective occasion—any moral betterment of the administration of Korean home and foreign affairs. Under the regency of his father, the Government had been cruel, despotic, and murderous toward both native and foreign Christians. But the Tai Won Kun had some regard for ancient common laws and usages. Under him the people were reasonably sure of such rights, protection, and privileges of public domain, as their ancestors had enjoyed. The public granaries were kept full against the time of famine. The timber and fire-wood on the hills was not given over to any one who could bribe or cajole the corrupt officials; and the line of demarcation between royal and popular rights was more clearly drawn and better understood. But now all this was changed for the worse. The King declared himself the sole and private owner—to dispose of as he saw fit—of all the properties which had formerly been considered as belonging to the state. Low-born favorites appropriated or laid waste the public domain. The country’s resources were wasted; the people were subjected to new and irregular exactions, levied by irregular people for illegal purposes. A succession of the most consummate rascals which ever afflicted any country came into virtual control. They were endowed with offices purchased or extorted from the head ruler. Eunuchs were sent out from the palace on “still hunts,” so to speak, to discover any kind of property which, by any pretext whatever, could be claimed; and to seize such property in the name of His Majesty, or of the King’s concubine, Lady Om, or of some one of the Imperial Princes. Laws which were intended to promote the ends of justice were twisted from their purpose and made to serve the ends of plunder. Such privileges as that of coining and counterfeiting the currency were sold to private persons.

Then began also that squandering of the nation’s most[235] valuable resources which, under the name of “concessions” to foreigners who generally allied themselves for this end with corrupt Korean officials, has continued down to the present time; and the adjustment of which is still giving the Resident-General and his judicial advisers some of their most serious problems. To quote the description of this period by a distinguished foreigner, long in the Korean service: “Nothing in this country is safe from the horde which surrounds His Majesty and seemingly has his confidence. Public office is bought and sold without even the pretence of concealment. Officials share with the palace the plunder which they extort from the people. So and So (naming a prominent Korean Official) is said to owe his influence there largely to the fact that out of every ten thousand yen which he collects he surrenders seven thousand to the Emperor, retaining only three for himself. With his colleagues it is usually the other way, about.” According to the same authority, many kinds of property which were formerly regarded as belonging to the state were now being appropriated to the Emperor’s use, or to that of his favorites, without any pretext, under the rule that “might makes right.” Torturing, strangling, and decapitation, were no infrequent methods of accomplishing the imperial will; though it should be said that these favors were somewhat impartially distributed. Sometimes it was the secret strangling in prison of such patriots as An Kyun-su and Kwan Yung-chin, on the night of May 27, 1900—than which, it has truly been said, “no more dastardly crime ever stained the annals of this or any other government”: sometimes it was the torturing and execution of such unspeakable rascals as the ex-court-favorites, Kim Yung-chun (1901), Yi Yong-ik, and Yi Keun-tak (1902). In a word, the period of “independence,” to which the Emperor has been lately imploring his own subjects and the civilized world to restore him, was the period in which he took what, and gave away what, and did what he[236] chose, under the basest influences; for the most worthless or mischievous ends, without law or pretence of justice or goodness of heart, to the lasting disgrace and essential ruin of the nation.

Such is a summary of the doings during the years preceding the Russo-Japanese war, on the part of the Korean Emperor and his Court. “Through all this period,” says Mr. Hulbert,[25] “Russian influence was quietly at work securing its hold upon the Korean Court and upon such members of the government as it could win over. The general populace was always suspicious of her, however, and always preferred the rougher hand of Japan to the soft but heavy hand of Russia.” The threatening nature of the situation created by these Russian encroachments was as well understood at Washington and London as at Tokyo. It was intimately connected with the Manchurian question to the untangling of which Mr. Hay had devoted so much thought.

But Russia’s action in Manchuria, threatening as it was to the interests, not alone of Japan but also of other foreign powers, did not call upon the Japanese Government for armed interference.[26] As the behavior of Japan showed during the Boxer troubles in China, she had learned caution with respect to fighting the battles of civilized Europe and America, at her own expense and without show of gratitude from others.

As we have already seen, the most threatening feature of the situation for Japan was Russia’s activity upon the Yalu, especially at Yong-am-po. In the interests of peace Mr. Hay supplemented his efforts to maintain the principle of the open door and equal opportunity in Manchuria, by an earnest endeavor (which had Lord Lansdowne’s cordial support) to fend off the impending quarrel between Japan and Russia. Since all the Treaty Powers were interested in the matter of[237] treaty ports in Korea, the method that most readily suggested itself was the opening of Wiju and Yong-am-po, which would remove any question of the latter place being used as a military or naval base. The request was reasonable from every point of view, since Wiju, as the market town, and Yong-am-po, as the port, were naturally the complement, on the Korean side of the Yalu, of Antung then recently declared an open port on the Manchurian. Indeed, other considerations apart, some such action was imperatively necessary from the Korean standpoint, inasmuch as an open port in Chinese territory, without a corresponding port of entry in neighboring Korean territory, could not fail to be prejudicial to the interests of Korea. Accordingly the American and British representatives at Seoul were instructed to urge upon the Korean Government the necessity of opening these ports.

This was done, but the attempt to persuade the Emperor met with strenuous opposition on M. Pavloff’s part, and finally failed, apparently because of the incapacity of His Majesty’s nearest advisers to grasp the real significance of the crisis and the momentous effect which the decision must have upon Korea’s fortunes. The struggle was a fierce one while it lasted and, among other minor results, led to the resignation of the Minister for Foreign Affairs. The gentleman who succeeded him, as Acting Minister, was disposed to favor the opening of the ports, in spite of the strong opposition of the palace coterie. He went so far as to prepare letters to the foreign representatives declaring the ports open, and was actually about sending them out, on his own responsibility, when he was stopped, partly by a peremptory order from the palace, and partly by the persuasion of his friends who represented to him the great personal danger he would incur by such a step.

The narrative of this official throws a curious side-light upon M. Pavloff’s methods and shows in an interesting way[238] his persistence, even at a time when the correspondence between Russia and Japan preceding the war had reached a critical stage, in endeavoring by every means at his command to carry through the very intrigue which formed the gravamen of Japan’s strongest reason for complaining. It is easy, in the light of what has happened, to condemn this action; but even at the time it must have seemed to impartial observers more like the infatuation of a desperate gambler than the well-considered moves of a shrewd diplomatist. It was all done, too, in support of a transparent subterfuge, namely: that Russia had no arrangement with Korea which gave to the proposed use of Yong-am-po any other character than that of an entirely peaceful occupation for legitimate commercial purposes; and that her agents had done absolutely nothing in the way of preparing the place for military occupation. When he was urging upon the Acting Minister for Foreign Affairs reasons for not opening Yong-am-po, the latter enquired: “Why have you staked off such a large extent of territory, and why are you building a fort?” M. Pavloff instantly denied in emphatic terms that anything of the kind had been done. “For the past ten days,” quietly replied the Korean official, “I have had two men whom I trust thoroughly on the spot, and my question is the result of telegraphic reports I have received from them.” The interview did not continue, but within forty-eight hours his scouts reported to the Acting Minister that all the stakes had been removed. There had not been time, they said, thoroughly to remove all traces of works upon the fortifications, but that as much of the works as possible had been levelled and the whole covered up with loose earth, tree-trunks and branches. Such effrontery seems incredible; but these are facts, and others like them equally typical of M. Pavloff’s methods could be recited. It is doubtful whether even his own government knew all the circumstances, or was fully aware, until it was[239] too late, what he had done and was continuing to do to arouse Japanese suspicion and resentment.

The negotiations having in view the peaceful adjustment of the conflicting interests of Russia and Japan in the Far East, which were begun by the latter country in the summer of 1903, were further continued. Mr. Kurino, the Japanese Minister at St. Petersburg, was informed by Baron Komura, who was then Japanese Minister of Foreign Affairs, that the recent conduct of Russia at Peking, in Manchuria, and in Korea, was the cause of grave concern to the Government at Tokyo. “The unconditional and permanent occupation of Manchuria by Russia would,” said Baron Komura, “create a state of things prejudicial to the security and interests of Japan. The principle of equal opportunity would thereby be annulled, and the territorial integrity of China be impaired. There is, however, a still more serious consideration for the Japanese Government; that is to say, if Russia was established on the flank of Korea it would be a constant menace to the separate existence of that empire, or at least would make Russia the dominant power in Korea. But Korea is an important outpost in Japan’s line of defence, and Japan consequently considers its independence absolutely essential to her own repose and safety. Moreover, the political as well as the commercial and industrial interests and influence which Japan possesses in Korea are paramount over those of other Powers. These interests and this influence Japan, having regard to her own security, cannot consent to surrender to, or share with, another Power.”

In view of these reasons, Mr. Kurino was instructed to present the following note to Count Lamsdorff, the Russian Minister of Foreign Affairs: “The Japanese Government desires to remove from the relations of the two empires every cause of future misunderstanding, and believes that the Russian Government shares the same desire. The[240] Japanese Government would therefore be glad to enter with the Russian Imperial Government upon an examination of the condition of affairs in the regions of the extreme East, where their interests meet, with a view of defining their respective special interests in those regions. If this suggestion fortunately meets with the approval, in principle, of the Russian Government, the Japanese Government will be prepared to present to the Russian Government their views as to the nature and scope of the proposed understanding.”

The consent of Count Lamsdorff and the Czar having been obtained, on August 12th articles were prepared and submitted by the Japanese Government which it wished to have serve as a basis of understanding between the two countries. The essential agreements to be secured by these articles were: (1) A mutual engagement to respect the independence and territorial integrity of the Chinese and Korean empires, and to maintain the “open door” in these countries; and (2) a reciprocal recognition of Japan’s preponderating interests in Korea and of Russia’s special interests in Manchuria. These demands were not altered in any very important way by Japan during all the subsequent negotiations. It was their persistent rejection by Russia, together with her long delays in replying while she was meantime making obvious preparations of a war-like character, which precipitated the tremendous conflict that followed some months later. In her first reply with counter proposals which was made nearly eight weeks later through Baron Rosen, the Russian Minister at Tokyo, Russia not only reduced Japan’s demands regarding Korea, but even proposed new restrictions upon her in that country. But what was equally significant, the counter-proposals took no account of the demand for an agreement as to the independence and territorial integrity of the Chinese empire, or as to the policy of the “open door” in Manchuria[241] and Korea. On the contrary, they required Japan expressly to recognize Manchuria as “in all respects outside her sphere of interest.” Meantime Russia was increasing her commercial and military activity in both the territorial spheres where the question of interests and rights was under dispute.

In the second overture of October 30th, several important concessions were made by Japan, to which on December 11th Russia replied with a repetition of the former counter-proposal—omitting, however, the offensive clause regarding Manchuria and inserting the Japanese proposal relating to the connection of the Korean and the Chinese-Eastern railways. Ten days later the Japanese Government presented a third overture in which Baron Komura tried to make it clear to the Russian Government that Japan desired “to bring within the purview of the proposed arrangement all those regions in the Far East where the interests of the two empires meet.” But when the reply of Russia was received in Tokyo on January 6, 1904, it was found that not only was there no mention made of the territorial integrity of China in Manchuria, but that Russia again insisted upon Japan’s regarding the “Manchurian Question” and the littoral of Manchuria as quite outside her sphere of interest. Russia, indeed, agreed “not to impede Japan or the other Powers in the enjoyment of the rights and privileges acquired by them under existing treaties with China, exclusive of the establishment of settlements”; but only on condition that Japan would agree not to use any part of the territory of Korea for strategical purposes, and also to the establishment of a neutral zone in Northern Korea. In spite of the fact that the two governments were still as far apart as at the beginning in regard to the most vital points of interest, Japan made another and fourth attempt. This overture was presented to Count Lamsdorff on January 13th and, in spite of the urgent[242] request for an early reply, this did not come until February 7, the day following the severing of diplomatic relations between the two countries. Negotiations were then ended; appeal was now made to the “arbitrament of war,” so-called.

It is not our purpose to discuss in detail the question of rights, as involved in these negotiations, whether from the political or the moral point of view, or to consider whether Japan’s method of initiating hostilities was in accordance with law, or with precedent as established, if such it can be said to be, by the usage of civilized nations. In both regards we believe, however, that the claims of Japan to have the right upon her side are in all important particulars defensible. But having begun the war with Russia it can be seen that to secure free passage for her troops through Korea, and to secure Korea in the rear of her troops as they passed to the front, were necessities imposed upon Japan in a yet more absolute and indisputable fashion than was the undertaking of the war itself. If it was necessary in order to maintain the integrity and free, peaceful development of Japan that, all other means having failed, she should resort to arms in the effort to check the dangerous encroachments of Russia in Manchuria and Korea, it was immediately and essentially necessary for any measure of success in this last resort, that she should gain and hold control over the conduct of the Korean Court and the Korean populace during the war. What were the nature and the habitual modes of behavior of both Court and people has already been made clear; more information on these subjects will be afforded in subsequent chapters. As to danger of treachery we may note in passing that, while friendship was being protested to the face of the Japanese in Korea, a boat was picked up in the Yellow Sea, late in January, 1904—that is, a few days before the outbreak of the war—which bore a Korean messenger with a letter to Port Arthur asking for Russian troops to be sent to[243] Korea. The resort to valuable concessions as a bribe for foreign influence became at once, on the beginning of hostilities, more active even than before. On this latter point we quote the words of Mr. D. W. Stevens:

At this time the Emperor was dominated by the influence of a courtier named Yi Yong-ik, whose foreign affiliations were wholly Russian. The Palace coterie, even including this man’s bitter political enemies, was almost entirely pro-Russian. But the Emperor was also, of course, much afraid of the Japanese, who were now near at hand, whereas the Russians and their Korean coadjutors had either fled the country or gone into retirement. For the time being, therefore, Japan had control of the Imperial environment. Meantime, one of two courses only seemed open to the Japanese themselves: they could either set aside the Emperor and his untrustworthy officials, and assume complete control of Korean affairs; or they could make some sort of arrangement[244] which would secure an alliance with Korea. If faithful to this alliance, the Emperor would be assured of his personal safety and of his throne; and the country would be placed definitively under Japanese protection. The leaders in Japan knew perfectly well that His Korean Majesty was anti-Japanese and characteristically false and treacherous; but they hoped by moderation to win him over to at least a partial and temporary fulfilment of the obligations under which he would be placed by the adoption of the more friendly course.

There were also military reasons why a sort of protectorate and alliance seemed necessary; and if possible in a way to avoid the troubles of a forcible annexation. For, very special and momently imminent dangers threatened the construction and use of the railway by which the Japanese were transporting their troops and supplies through Korea to the seat of the war. In several instances armed attacks were made upon the workmen and the track was torn up. In another connection it will be shown that the charge of extreme cruelty and wholesale slaughter made by Mr. Hulbert[27] (and illustrated by a picture designed to excite pathos), because the Japanese military authorities executed some of the leaders of these dangerous riots, is quite unwarranted by the facts. The same thing may be said of the charge that the Po-an, or “Society for the Promotion of Peace and Safety,” was illegally and wantonly suppressed by the Japanese in July of 1904. The simple truth is that this society bore about the same relation to the cause of “peace and safety” which has been borne during the past two years by the several associations for intrigue and murder which have masqueraded under titles suggestive of the most noble schemes for promoting the interests of patriotism, education, morals and religion. It must be either a dull or a prejudiced mind, indeed, that can[245] take in the atmosphere of Korean politics for even a few months—not to say, years—of residence in the land, and not understand the threatening significance of these associations. On the other hand, the question of propriety in dealing summarily with those who persist in tearing up the tracks of a military road in time of war may confidently be left to those who are experienced in such matters.

Indeed, with regard to the entire conduct of affairs by the Japanese during this period, we may ask the question, and give the answer, of Mr. Whigham:[28] “What, then, is Japan to do? Is she to sit down and watch the Russian flood descending on her fields without attempting to set up a barrier? The answer is very simple. Japan must take Korea and do it very quickly, too.”

It was such a situation of extreme peril and emergency which compelled the Japanese Government to secure formal recognition in an agreement with the Korean Government—so far as such a thing as government then existed in Korea—that should admit of no misunderstanding. This necessity gave rise to the Conventions of February 23, 1904, and of August 22 of the same year. The latter of these conventions was the logical sequence and supplement of the former. By the first of the Protocols[29] it was designed to secure necessary reforms in the administration of Korea and, besides, such an alliance between the two governments that Japan should guard the Korean Emperor and his people against foreign aggressions in the future and secure for herself the furtherance of her military operations against Russia. Of more permanent importance still was the prevention in the future of all such experiences as she had passed through in 1894-1895, and was passing through at the present time. The Convention of February, however, was no sooner concluded than His[246] Majesty began plotting to prevent its going into effect. With the conduct of military matters he was indeed powerless to interfere; but every attempt at reform met with either his passive resistance or open opposition. This attitude of his made necessary the additional provisions stipulated in the supplementary Protocol of August 22, 1904.[30] In this, provision was made for the appointment by the Korean Government of a Japanese recommended by the Japanese Government as “Financial Adviser,” and of some foreigner, also to be recommended by the Japanese Government, as “Adviser to the Department of Foreign Affairs.” The appointees to these positions were Mr. Megata and Mr. D. W. Stevens.

But still the intrigue and treachery of His Majesty went on. In spite of the excellent service of Mr. Megata in straightening out the confusion of the Korean finances, and in utter disregard of Mr. Stevens’ advices and endeavors to make the new Protocols both appear, and actually to be, greatly to the advantage of the Emperor and of his country, the imperial ways remained unchanged. His own Foreign Ministers were either disregarded or made tools of intrigue. Even after the Treaty of November, 1905, His Majesty sent secret telegrams from the Palace ordering the Foreign Ministers of other Governments to pay no attention to the directions of his own Minister of Foreign Affairs, while the latter was arranging for the closing of the Legations according to the terms of the Treaty. During the entire war he was in secret communication with Japan’s enemies, while claiming Japan’s protection under the Protocols of February and August, 1904. This treacherous correspondence was carried on through emissaries at Shanghai; and large sums of money, which the Japanese Financial Adviser had somehow to provide, were wasted upon these futile efforts to change the course of events. Indeed, in this correspondence and in the distribution of this[247] money, it is probable that the chief agent in Shanghai was the same person as the chief agent of Russia herself.

The subsequent history of the relations of Japan and Korea, as these relations resulted through the events of July, 1907, in establishing a protectorate which placed all important Korean affairs, both internal and foreign, under the control of the Japanese Resident-General, cannot be understood or judged without keeping the necessity and the significance of these Protocols steadily in mind. Of the Convention of February, 1904, Lawrence significantly says:[31]

The new Treaty of August 22, 1904, shows that this is fully understood at Tokyo. A financial adviser and a diplomatic adviser are to be appointed by the Korean Government on the recommendation of Japan, and nothing important is to be done in their departments without their advice. No treaties with Foreign Powers are to be concluded, and no concessions to foreigners granted, without previous consultation with the Japanese Government.

That the view of this authority as to the significance of the Conventions of 1904 is not the view of any individual alone has been clearly demonstrated by the acceptance of its conclusions, in a practical way, though the official action of foreign governments since the date of the conventions themselves.

In particular it is to be noted that the Government of the United States has expressed an opinion touching the effect in international law upon the status of Korea of the February and August Protocols which is substantially identical with that of Professor Lawrence. Before there was any occasion for a formal expression of opinion a significant indication of the views of the Department of State upon the subject could be found in the Foreign Relations for 1904. Over the Protocols as published therein may be found the caption “Protectorate by Japan over Korea.” (437 f.) Later on, Secretary Root had occasion expressly to state this opinion. This was when, in December, 1905, Mr. Min Yung-chan, whilom Korean Minister to France, came to the United States for the purpose of protesting against recognition by the United States of the Treaty of November 17th of the same year. In a letter to Mr. Min, explaining the reasons which made it impossible for the American Government not to recognize the binding force of that instrument, the Secretary added that there was another and a conclusive reason against interference in the matter. This reason, he said, was to be found in the circumstance that Korea had previously concluded with Japan two agreements which, in principle and in practice, established a Japanese Protectorate in Korea, and to the force of which in that particular the Treaty of November 17 added nothing.

To this view of the virtual significance of these earlier Protocols there is only to be opposed the demonstrably false assertions of the now ex-Emperor and the opinions and affirmations—quite unwarranted as the next chapter will[250] show—of writers like Mr. Hulbert, Mr. Story, and other so-called “foreign friends” of His Majesty. These assertions and opinions are certainly not made any more credible by the willingness of their authors to denounce the President and Acting Foreign Minister of the United States in Korea, and, by implication, all the other heads of foreign governments who neither share their opinion, nor approve of their conduct in support of the opinion![32]

By the Treaty of Portsmouth the Russian Government not only definitely relinquished all the political interests she had previously claimed to possess in Korea, but also recognized in all important particulars the rights acquired in the same country by Japan through the Conventions of February and August, 1904. Article Second of the Treaty stipulates: “The Imperial Russian Government, acknowledging that Japan possesses in Korea paramount political, military and economical interests, engages neither to obstruct nor interfere with the measures of guidance, protection and control which the Imperial Government of Japan may find it necessary to take in Korea.”

Thus did the war with Russia, which was fought over the relations between Japan and Korea as an issue of supreme importance, terminate the second main period in the history of these relations. The Chino-Japan war removed forever that foreign influence which had continued through centuries, not only to prevent the immediate realization of a true national independence on the part of Korea, but also to unfit the Korean Government to maintain such independence when conferred upon it as the gift of another nation. The Russo-Japanese war terminated the attempt of a more powerful foreign nation to supersede the controlling influence of Japan in Korea. At the same time it gave a convincing further demonstration of Korea’s inherent and hopeless[251] inability to control herself, under any existing conditions of her government or of her system of civilization. Thus the provisions for a Japanese Protectorate, which shall secure for both nations the largest possible measure of good, offered to the Marquis Ito his difficult problem as Imperial Commissioner to Korea in November, 1905.

It will need no argument for those familiar with the habitual ways of the Korean Government in dealing with foreign affairs to establish the necessity that Japan should make more definite, explicit, and comprehensive, the Protocols of February 23 and August 22, 1904. Foreign affairs have always been with the Emperor and Court of Korea a particularly favorable but mischievous sphere for intrigue and intermeddling. The Foreign Office has never had any real control over the agents of the government, who have been the tools of the Emperor in their dealings with foreign Legations. The Korean Foreign Minister in 1905 was not an efficient and responsible representative of either the intentions or the transactions of his own government; instructions were frequently sent direct from the Palace to Ministers in other countries; foreign Legations had, each one, a separate cipher to be used for such communications; and there were several instances of clandestine communication with agents abroad, even during the Russo-Japanese war. To guard, therefore, against the repetition of occurrences similar to those which had already cost her so dearly, Japan’s interests demanded that her control over the management of Korea’s foreign affairs should be undivided and unquestioned.

It was not, however, in the interests of Japan alone that the management of Korea’s foreign affairs was to pass out of her own hands. It was distinctly, as events are fast proving[253] beyond a reasonable doubt, for the advantage of Korea herself. In any valid meaning of the word, Korea had never been “independent” of foreign influences, dominating over her and corrupting the officials within her own borders. For centuries these influences came chiefly from China; for a decade, chiefly from Russia and other Western nations. The Treaty of 1905 was also, just as distinctly—so, we believe, the events will ultimately prove—for the advantage of these Western nations, and of the entire Far East.

It is, therefore, highly desirable, not only as vindicating the honor of Marquis Ito and of the Japanese Government, but also as establishing the Protectorate of Japan over Korea upon foundations of veracity and justice, that the exact and full truth should be known and placed on record before the world, concerning the Convention of November, 1905. This is the more desirable because of the gross and persistent misrepresentations of the facts which have been repeated over and over again—chiefly by the same persons—down to the time of the appearance of the so-called Korean Commission at The Hague Conference of 1907.[33] His Majesty the Emperor (now ex-Emperor) of Korea has, indeed, publicly proclaimed his intention not to keep a treaty “made under duress” and through fears of “personal violence”;[254] he has also made it appear that the signatures and the Imperial seal upon the document were fraudulently obtained. Meantime, he has sedulously (and, we believe, with such sincerity as his nature admits) cultivated and cherished the friendship of the Japanese Resident-General who negotiated, and who has administered affairs under, the Treaty. How he lost his crown, at the hands of his own Ministry, for his last violation of the most solemn provisions of the same treaty, is now a matter of universal history.

Marquis Ito arrived at Seoul, as the Representative of the Japanese Government, to conclude a new Convention with Korea, during the first week of November, 1905. He was the bearer of a letter from his own Emperor to the Emperor of Korea, which frankly explained the object of his mission. What follows is the substance of His Japanese Majesty’s letter.

“Japan, in self-defence and for the preservation of the peace and security of the Far East, had been forced to go to war with Russia; but now, after a struggle of twenty months, hostilities were ended. During their continuance the Emperor of Korea and his people, no doubt, shared the anxiety felt by the Emperor and people of Japan. In the mind of His Majesty, the Emperor of Japan, the most absorbing[255] thought and purpose now was to safeguard the future peace and security of the two Empires, and to augment and strengthen the friendly relations existing between them. Unfortunately, however, Korea was not yet in a state of good defence, nor was the basis for a system of effective self-defence yet created. Her weakness in these regards was in itself a menace to the peace of the Far East as well as to her own security. That this was unhappily the case was a matter of as much regret to His Majesty as it could be to the Emperor of Korea; and for this reason the safety of Korea was as much a matter of anxiety to him as was that of his own country. His Majesty had already commanded his Government to conclude the Protocols of February and August, 1904, for the defence of Korea. Now, in order to preserve the peace which had been secured, and to guard against future dangers arising from the defenceless condition of Korea, it was necessary that the bonds which united the two countries should be closer and stronger than ever before. Having this end in view, His Majesty had commanded His Government to study the question and to devise means of attaining this desirable result. The preservation and protection of the dignity, privileges, and tranquillity of the Imperial House of Korea would, as a matter of course, be one of the first considerations kept in view.

“His Majesty felt sure that if the Emperor of Korea would carefully consider the general situation and its bearing upon the interests and welfare of his country and people, he would decide to take the advice now earnestly tendered to him.”

It should be noticed that this address from His Imperial Majesty of Japan to the Korean Emperor—the sincerity of which cannot be questioned—is pervaded with the same spirit as that which has characterized the administration, hitherto, of the Japanese Residency-General.

Marquis Ito informed the Korean Emperor that he would[256] ask for another audience in a few days. His Majesty consented, adding that in the meantime he desired carefully to study the letter from the Emperor of Japan.[34]

On the 15th of November, Marquis Ito had a private audience which lasted about four hours, and in which he frankly explained the object of his mission.... The Emperor began the interview by complaining of certain injuries done by the Japanese civil and military authorities during the war. He dwelt at length upon past events, saying, among other things, that he had not wished to go to the Russian Legation in 1895, but had been over-persuaded by those about his person.

Marquis Ito replied that as he would remain in Korea for some time, there would be ample opportunity for a full exchange of views regarding the matters to which His Majesty referred. At the present moment he felt it to be his imperative duty to beg His Majesty to hear the particulars of the mission with which he had been charged by his Imperial Master. From 1885 onward, he went on to say, Japan had earnestly endeavored to maintain the independence of Korea. Unfortunately, Korea herself had rendered but little aid in the struggle which Japan had maintained in her behalf. Nevertheless, these efforts had preserved His Majesty’s Empire, and, although there might have been causes of complaint, such as those to which His Majesty had just referred, in justice to Japan it should not be forgotten that in the midst of the great struggle in which she had been engaged, it was unhappily not possible wholly to avoid such[257] occurrences. If His Majesty would consider all the circumstances, he would undoubtedly realize that in the midst of the absorbing anxiety of that momentous contest and of the heavy burdens it imposed upon Japan, whatever fault might attach to her as regarded the matters of which His Majesty had spoken was at least excusable. Korea, on the other hand, had borne but a small portion of the burden created by the necessity of defending and maintaining a principle in which she was as deeply interested as Japan—namely, the peace and security of the Far East. Turning to the future, however, it could be clearly perceived that in order effectively to ensure the future peace and security of the Far East, it was imperatively necessary that the bonds uniting the two countries should be drawn closer. For that purpose, and with that object in view, His Majesty the Emperor of Japan had graciously entrusted him with the task of explaining the means which, after mature and careful deliberation, it had been concluded should be adopted.

The substance of the plan which had been thus formulated might be summed up as follows: ... The Japanese Government, with the consent of the Government of Korea, to have the right to control and direct the foreign affairs of Korea, while the internal autonomy of the Empire would be maintained; and, of course, His Majesty’s Government, under His Majesty’s direction, would continue as at the present time.

Explaining the objects of the Agreement thus outlined, the Marquis pointed out that it would effectively safeguard the security and prestige of the Imperial House of Korea, while affording the surest means of augmenting the happiness and prosperity of the people. For the reasons stated, and for these alone, the Marquis went on to say, he strongly advised the Emperor to accept this plan; and, taking into account the general situation, and the condition of Korea in[258] particular, he earnestly hoped that His Majesty would consent. The Japanese Minister was authorized to discuss the details with His Majesty’s Ministers.

The Emperor in reply expressed his appreciation of the manifestation of sincere good-will on the part of the Emperor of Japan, and his thanks. Although he would not absolutely reject the proposal, it was his earnest desire to retain some outward form of control over the external affairs of Korea. As to the actual exercise of such control by Japan, and in what manner it should be exercised, he had no objections to urge.

The Marquis then stated that, in accordance with diplomatic rules and usage, there was in that case no difference between the form and the substance of control. Therefore he could not accept the suggestion. If Korea were to continue to have Legations abroad, she would in fact retain control of the external relations of the Empire. The status quo would be perpetuated; there would be constant danger of the renewal of past difficulties; and again the peace of the East would be threatened. It was absolutely necessary that Japan should control and direct the external relations of Korea. This decision was the result of most careful investigations and deliberations; it could not be changed. Marquis Ito further stated that he had brought a memorandum of the agreement which it was desired to conclude; and this he then handed to the Emperor.

The Emperor, having read it, expressed his implicit trust in Marquis Ito, saying that he placed more reliance upon what he said than upon the representations of his own subjects. [It may seem a strange comment upon the working[259] of His Majesty’s mind, but all my observations and experiences, while in Korea, lead me to believe in the veracity of this declaration. To the last, the Emperor trusted the word of the Marquis Ito.]... If, however, he accepted the agreement and retained no outward form of control over Korean foreign affairs, the relations of Japan and Korea would be like those of Austria and Hungary; or Korea’s condition would be like that of one of the African tribes.

Marquis Ito begged leave to dissent. Austria and Hungary were ruled by one monarch; whereas in this case His Majesty would still be Emperor of Korea, and would continue as before to exercise his Imperial prerogatives. As for the presumed resemblance to an African tribe, that could hardly be considered in point; since Korea had a Government established for centuries and therefore a national organization and forms of administration such as no savage tribe possessed.

The Emperor expressed appreciation of what the Marquis said, but repeated that he did not care for the substance, and only wished to retain some external form of control over Korea’s foreign affairs. He therefore hoped that the Marquis would inform his Emperor and the Japanese Government of this wish and would induce them to change the plan proposed; this wish he reiterated a number of times. [There were undoubtedly two reasons, entirely valid from his point of view, for the endeavor to secure this change. The first was the very natural desire to “save his face”; and the second was the—with him—scarcely less natural desire to leave room for intrigue to contest the scope of the terms agreed upon while claiming to be faithful to their substance.]

The Marquis stated that he could not comply with the request of His Majesty. The draft was the definitive expression of the views of the Japanese Government after most careful consideration, and could not be changed as His[260] Majesty desired. He then quoted the Article in the Portsmouth Treaty wherein Russia recognizes the paramount political, commercial, and economic interests of Japan in Korea. There was only one alternative, he added: either to accept or to refuse. He could not predict what the result would be if His Majesty refused, but he feared that it might be less acceptable than what he now proposed. If His Majesty refused, he must clearly understand this.

The Emperor replied that he did not hesitate because he was ignorant of this fact, but because he could not himself decide at that moment. He must consult his Ministers and ascertain also “the intention of the people at large.”

The Marquis replied that His Majesty was, of course, quite right in desiring to consult his Ministers, but he could not understand what was meant by consulting “the intention of the people.” Inasmuch as Korea did not have a constitutional form of government, and consequently no Diet, it seemed rather a strange proceeding to consult “the intention of the people.” If such action should lead to popular ferment and excitement and possibly public disturbances, he must respectfully point out that the responsibility would rest with His Majesty.

Finally, after some further discussion, the Emperor requested Marquis Ito to have Minister Hayashi (who held the power to negotiate the proposed agreement) consult with his own Minister for Foreign Affairs. The result could be submitted to the Cabinet; and when that body had reached a decision His Majesty’s approval could be asked.

Marquis Ito said that prompt action was necessary, and requested His Majesty to summon the Minister for Foreign Affairs at once, and to instruct him to negotiate and sign the agreement. The Emperor replied that he would give instructions to the Minister for Foreign Affairs to that effect. Marquis Ito stated that he would remain awaiting the conclusion[261] of that agreement, and would again request His Majesty to grant him an audience.

Before this first audience ended the Emperor again asked Marquis Ito to persuade His Majesty of Japan to consent that Korea should retain some outward form of control over her foreign affairs; but again Marquis Ito refused. This repeated refusal of Japan’s Representative to concede anything whatever as an abatement of his country’s control in the future over Korea’s relations to foreign countries distinctly reveals the nature of the only treaty that could then possibly have been concluded between the two Powers. On the following day, the 16th of November, Marquis Ito had a conference with all of the Cabinet Ministers, except the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who on the same day began negotiations with Minister Hayashi. Marquis Ito explained fully to the Korean Ministers the object of his mission and the views of his Government.

On the 17th of November, at 11 A. M., all of the Korean Ministers went to the Japanese Legation, lunched there, and conferred with Mr. Hayashi until 3 o’clock, when they adjourned to the Palace and held a meeting in the Emperor’s presence. Their decision was, finally, to refuse to agree to the Treaty in the form in which it had been proposed. Marquis Ito was taking dinner with General Hasegawa, when, at 7.30, he received a message from Mr. Hayashi conveying this intelligence and a request to come to the Palace.[35] Accordingly, at 8 o’clock, he went to the Palace in company with General Hasegawa, the latter’s aide, and the three or four mounted gendarmes, who accompanied Marquis Ito wherever he went. There were no other Japanese guards or soldiers in attendance, and none in the immediate vicinity of[262] the Palace. The gendarmes who accompanied the Marquis did not enter the Palace precincts, and all the gates and entrances were guarded as usual by Korean soldiers, Korean gendarmes and Korean policemen. Precautions had indeed been taken to preserve order in the city, as some outburst of mob violence was possible. The necessity of this precaution was shown later in the night when an attempt was made to set fire to the house of Mr. Yi Wan-yong, Minister of Education (now Prime Minister). It was only when the conference was ended that, at the express request of the Korean Ministers, a small number of gendarmes was summoned to accompany them to their homes. [This precaution will not seem excessive, or threatening of violence to others, in the eyes of one who, like myself, has spent a period of two months in Korea, characterized by repeated attempts to assassinate the Ministers, who always went guarded by Korean and Japanese gendarmes. See pp. 66 ff.]

Upon arriving at the Palace, Marquis Ito was informed by Mr. Hayashi that, although His Majesty had ordered the Cabinet to come to an agreement which would establish a cordial entente with Japan, and although the majority of the Cabinet Ministers were ready to obey His Majesty’s commands, Mr. Han, the Prime Minister, persistently refused to obey. Marquis Ito thereupon, through the Minister of the Household, requested a private audience with His Majesty.

It should be explained here that during all of the proceedings, which took place in the rooms on the lower floor of the “Library,” the Emperor was in his rooms in the upper story, and was never personally approached by any one except, as hereafter stated, by his own Ministers. It may also be added, in explanation of the time of the conference, that it had been His Majesty’s invariable practice for years to transact important public business at night. He turned[263] night into day in that regard and the Cabinet Ministers had customarily been obliged to attend in turn at the Palace and remain there all night long.

To the request for a private audience the Emperor replied that although he would be pleased to grant an audience at once, he was very tired and was suffering from sore throat—the plea of indisposition being one to which he is accustomed to resort for avoiding audiences. Therefore he preferred that Marquis Ito should consult with his Ministers whom he would instruct to negotiate and conclude an agreement establishing a cordial entente between Korea and Japan. At the same time that the Emperor requested the Marquis to consult with the Cabinet for that purpose, the Minister of the Household informed the Cabinet Ministers that His Majesty commanded them to negotiate with Marquis Ito.

Marquis Ito then turned to the Prime Minister, and, repeating what Mr. Hayashi had told him, enquired whether the statement correctly represented his attitude. The Prime Minister replied that it was correct. His Majesty had often commanded him to come to an understanding with the Japanese Minister, but he had refused. Then the other Ministers had accused him of disloyalty in disobeying His Majesty’s commands. He himself could not but feel that the accusation was well founded and, on that account, he wished immediately to resign his office and to await the Imperial punishment for his disobedience. As he had informed Marquis Ito the day before, although he was perfectly well aware that Korea could not maintain her independence by her own unaided efforts, he still wished to retain the outward semblance of control over the Nation’s foreign relations.

Thereupon Marquis Ito said that the last thought in his mind would be to try to force the Prime Minister to do any thing which would destroy his country. The Minister had[264] said, however, that he wished to resign because he had been disloyal in disobeying the Emperor’s commands. It did not seem to him, the Marquis, that this was either a dignified, or a sensible course for a Minister of State to adopt. The management of public affairs required decision. If the Prime Minister could not come to some understanding with Japan’s representatives, as his own Majesty the Emperor had commanded him to do, he was seriously jeopardizing his country’s interests. The Marquis could not believe that this was genuine loyalty. There was only one alternative before the Prime Minister, either to obey the Imperial order, or, carefully considering the gravity of the situation, to do what he could to change the Imperial opinion. He then asked the Prime Minister to request the other Ministers, in accordance with the Emperor’s command, conveyed through the Minister of the Household, to give their views regarding the proposed agreement. This the Prime Minister proceeded to do.

The Minister for Foreign Affairs, Mr. Pak Chi-sun (afterwards Acting Prime Minister) stated that, as he had informed the Japanese Minister, he was opposed to the treaty and did not wish to negotiate it; but if he was ordered to do so, he would comply. The Marquis asked what he meant by “ordered”; did he mean an Imperial order? Mr. Pak assented.

The Minister of Finance, Mr. Min Yong-ki, said that he was opposed to the treaty. (He remained in office for a year and a half after the conclusion of the treaty, considering, no doubt, that the Imperial command absolved him from responsibility.)

The Minister of Education, Mr. Yi Wan-yong (now Prime Minister), replied that he had already expressed his opinion fully in His Majesty’s presence. The request of Japan was the logical result of existing conditions in the East. The diplomacy of Korea, always changing, had forced Japan[265] into a great war which had entailed on her heavy sacrifices, and in which, finally, she had been victorious. Korea must accept the result and aid in maintaining the future peace of the East by loyally co-operating with Japan.

The Minister of Justice, Mr. Yi Ha-yung (who had been Minister for Foreign Affairs during the war), stated that, in his opinion, the Protocols of February 23 and August 22, 1904, already gave Japan practically all that she now asked. Consequently he did not think that the new Treaty was necessary.

Marquis Ito then said to him that the opinion he had expressed at the conference of the previous day was somewhat different, and that he had appeared at that time to be in favor of the Treaty. The Minister assented, but added that then, as now, he thought that the Protocols would have been amply sufficient if Korea herself had faithfully observed the obligations they imposed upon her.

The Minister of War, Mr. Yi Kun-tak, stated that in His Majesty’s presence he had supported the Minister of Education in the position described by the latter. Finally, however, he had cast his vote in favor of the Prime Minister’s proposal that they should insist upon a Treaty which retained to Korea the outward form of control over her foreign relations. He would now agree to the proposed treaty, however.

The Minister of Home Affairs, Mr. Yi Chi-yung, said that having negotiated and signed the Protocol of February 23, 1904, he had naturally associated himself with the Minister of Education in His Majesty’s presence, and he now did the same.

The Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, Mr. Kwon Chong-hiun, said that he had seconded the proposal of the Minister of Education and was of course in favor of the Treaty. He desired, however, to suggest several amendments.

After some further consultation, Marquis Ito turned to the Prime Minister, and said that there were but two of the Ministers opposed to the Treaty. The recognized method of deciding such questions was by a majority vote, and, as the Prime Minister had seen, the majority of the Cabinet were in favor of negotiating and concluding the Treaty. It was the duty of the Prime Minister accordingly, bearing in mind the Imperial command, to proceed to accomplish this result in due form. Thereupon the Prime Minister, saying something about disloyalty, burst into tears and went hastily into the next room. After a few moments Marquis Ito followed him, and found him still greatly agitated. The Marquis spoke to him gently, and, repeating his former arguments, tried to persuade him that it was his duty as a loyal servant to obey the Imperial command by assisting in the negotiation and conclusion of the Treaty. Finding, however, that his efforts were fruitless, Marquis Ito returned to the other room, leaving Mr. Han alone.[36]

After Mr. Han’s disappearance from the scene, and upon the Marquis’ return to the room, the latter addressed the Minister of the Household, stating that, as he had seen, the Cabinet Ministers, with two exceptions, had expressed their willingness to accept the Treaty in principle; and of the two dissenting Ministers one, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, had said that he would sign the Treaty if he received the Imperial command to do so. Turning then to the Ministers, he enquired whether they were willing to proceed as commanded by His Majesty, with the consideration of the Treaty, and of the amendments, which several of their number had expressed a desire to present. The Ministers replied that they were ready to do so, but wished the Minister of the Household to be present. Accordingly the deliberations were conducted in the presence of that official.

The Treaty was then considered in detail. The Minister of Education proposed an amendment, stipulating that the functions of control to be exercised by Japan should be confined exclusively to administration of the foreign relations of Korea. Marquis Ito replied that he could not accept this amendment, but after some discussion proposed the insertion of the word “primarily” in the Article.[37]

The Minister of Justice proposed an amendment stipulating that Japan would guarantee to maintain the peace, security and prestige of the Imperial Household. This Marquis Ito accepted and wrote the amendment with his own hand.

After some further deliberation the treaty in its amended form was agreed to. The Minister of the Household, accompanied by Mr. Yi Chi-yung, Minister of Home Affairs, then took the document to the Emperor. After a time they returned, saying that His Majesty was satisfied with the instrument as amended and gave it his sanction. He instructed them to say, however, that he desired to add one more amendment. It was to insert in the preamble a stipulation to the effect that when Korea became able again to exercise the functions surrendered to Japan by the Treaty, she would be entitled to resume the control of her foreign relations. To this proposal Marquis Ito assented, and again wrote the amendment with his own hand. The two Ministers took the completed instrument to His Majesty, and in a short time returned saying His Majesty was “quite satisfied and approved the Treaty.”

The copyists then began preparing the copies for signature, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs went to the telephone and ordered the clerk in charge to bring the seal of the Foreign Office to the Palace.

The Minister of the Household, who had again repaired to the Imperial presence, returned while this was going on with the following message from the Emperor to Marquis[269] Ito, which is here repeated verbatim:—“Now that this new Agreement has been concluded our countries should mutually congratulate each other. We feel tired, as we are not well, and shall retire. You, who have reached an advanced age and have remained awake until this late hour, must also be greatly fatigued. Please, therefore, return to your home and sleep well.”

Marquis Ito returned thanks for this gracious message, but remained until the Treaty had been copied and duly signed by Mr. Pak, the Korean Minister for Foreign Affairs, and by Mr. Hayashi, the Japanese Minister. He then returned to his hotel. In a short time the seal of the Foreign Office was brought to the Palace, and Mr. Pak, with his own hand, affixed it to the four copies of the instrument which had been made.[38]

The conclusion of the Treaty was not followed by any noticeably great public excitement in Seoul. Crowds collected in the streets, and there were one or two trifling brawls, but nothing of great consequence. The policing of the streets[270] was entirely in the hands of the Korean gendarmes and the mixed force of Korean and Japanese police under the direction of Mr. Maruyama, Police Adviser to the Korean Government. Nor, in order to preserve the public peace, was there at any time necessary any exhibition of a large force, either of police or of gendarmes in any one locality. They went about singly or in twos or threes, and the crowds were, as a rule, orderly.

The Convention thus concluded on November 17, 1905, with the object of strengthening the principle of solidarity which unites the two Empires, provides that the complete control and direction of Korean affairs shall hereafter rest with the Japanese Government, and that a Resident-General shall reside in Seoul, “primarily for the purpose of taking charge of and directing matters relating to diplomatic affairs.” It also provides for the appointment of Residents, subordinate to the Resident-General, who shall occupy the open ports and such other places in Korea as the Japanese Government may deem necessary. Article IV stipulates that all treaties and agreements subsisting between Japan and Korea, not[271] inconsistent with the provisions of the Convention itself, shall continue in force. Furthermore, Japan engages to maintain the welfare and dignity of the Imperial House of Korea.

This is the substance of the Convention of 1905. Its effect was to substitute Japan for Korea in all official relations with foreign Powers, past as well as future. In other words, foreign nations must hereafter deal directly and exclusively with Japan in everything affecting their diplomatic relations with Korea. Japan, on her part, is equally bound to respect and maintain all treaty rights and all treaty engagements granted by Korea in the past. The “principle of solidarity which unites the two Empires” implies, and in fact actually includes, even more than this. While the functions of Japan’s direct and exclusive control were primarily confined to matters connected with the direction of foreign affairs, some measure of control over Korea’s domestic affairs also is necessarily implied. It is not to be supposed, for example, that Japan could permit internal disorders, or the perpetuation of domestic abuses, or, in brief, any of those disturbing conditions which had hitherto prevented Korean progress and development. International control, dissociated from an orderly and progressive domestic policy, is not practicable; it is not even conceivable. The complications and embarrassments which would inevitably arise from such a complete dissociation of the two functions of government would far outweigh the advantages. One of the most fruitful sources of international difficulties in Korea has always been found in domestic misgovernment. Having assumed the responsibility and the obligations incident to the direction of foreign affairs, Japan has the right to ask, and, if need be, to insist, that her task shall not be made heavier by Korea herself. This did not, indeed, imply, that Japan should assume charge of the administrative machinery of the Korean Government, but that she should enjoy the right[272] to have recourse to those measures of guidance which naturally and properly fall within the sphere of the duties she had assumed. Fortunately, however, any discussion relating to this question must of necessity be purely academic; since not only the Convention of November 17th, but also the Protocols and other Agreements concluded before that time give ample warrant for everything Japan has attempted or accomplished in this regard.

If corroborative evidence is needed for the account just given of the negotiations which ended in the Convention of November, 1905, and upon the basis of which Marquis Ito, as the Representative of the Japanese Government, had been conducting his administration in Korea up to the time of the new Convention of July, 1907, it is afforded in fullest measure in the following manner. A notable “Memorial” regarding the circumstances under which the earlier agreement was formed was presented to the Korean Emperor on the fifteenth of December of the same year; this document lends the authority of all the other chief actors in this event to every important detail of the account as already given.[39]

The memorialists were Pak Chi-sun, former Minister for Foreign Affairs; Yi Wan-yong, Minister of Education; Kwan Chung-hiun, Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry; Yi Chi-yung, Minister of Home Affairs; and Yi Kun-tak, Minister of War. The occasion of the memorial was the agitation against the Treaty which was then at its height, and on account of which these five Ministers[273] were being denounced in petitions to the Throne, and in the public press, as traitors to their country. The purpose of the memorial was to show that the actual responsibility for the conclusion of the Treaty rested with the Emperor himself. By relating all the circumstances in detail (in particular the occurrences at the conference on the evening of November 17th) the memorialists brought this fact out into the boldest prominence. Their memorial was, in effect, both a charge which fixed the responsibility for the Treaty on the Emperor, and a challenge to the Emperor to deny that the Treaty was concluded in accordance with his own orders. It was a challenge which His Majesty did not accept; on the contrary, by approving the memorial, as he did formally, he acknowledged the truth of the statements it contained. It was, indeed, officially published at the time, as approved by the Emperor.[40] Moreover, this memorial was prepared by its authors and presented to the Throne without the previous knowledge of the Japanese authorities. In fact, it contained certain interesting and important details of which they then learned for the first time.

The memorialists began with the statement that, by reason of His Majesty’s generosity, they are entrusted with the responsibilities of Ministers of State, although they do not merit such distinction. They have seen the petitions denouncing them to the Emperor as traitors. Those petitions affirm that the state has been destroyed; that the people have become slaves; and that Korean territory is now the[274] property of another state. These opinions are indeed almost too absurd to be noticed; but since they affect the independence and dignity of the nation, the memorialists cannot permit them to pass without protest. The new Treaty with Japan does not change the title of the Empire or affect its real independence. The prestige of the Imperial House remains as before; the social fabric of the Empire is unaffected; and the country is in a peaceful condition. The only change is that the management of the foreign affairs of the country has been placed under the control of a neighboring state. Besides, the Treaty which brings about this result is by no means a new arrangement. It is the direct result of the Protocols concluded in 1904, and does not differ from them in object or in principle. If these persons who now so loudly proclaim their patriotism are really sincere and courageous men, why did they not denounce those Protocols when they were made and maintain their opposition with their lives? None of them did that then; yet now they clamor for the abolition of all these arrangements and for the restoration of the old order of things. It is impossible to agree with them.

We desire, the memorialists go on to say, now to state the actual facts of the conclusion of the new Treaty:

The memorial then goes on to consider the amendments[41] which it was thought would be desirable, and which were those subsequently proposed at the conference with Marquis Ito. The Emperor approved these amendments and himself suggested an amendment to the effect that in Article I of the convention the word “sole” in the sentence “shall have sole control” should be omitted. [This word, it may be remarked in passing, appeared in the original draft, but was not included in the Article as finally agreed to.]

Finally, when these deliberations terminated, the Ministers[277] collectively addressed the Emperor, and stated that although they had conferred upon the adoption of possible amendments, they were still prepared, if His Majesty so ordered them, to refuse altogether to accept the Japanese proposals. In reply the Emperor commanded them not to reject the Treaty finally and conclusively. On leaving, Mr. Han, speaking as Prime Minister, and Mr. Pak, as Minister for Foreign Affairs, stated that they would not disobey His Majesty’s commands.

Then follows the account of the Conference with Mr. Hayashi, in which it is stated that the Prime Minister, while acknowledging that the Emperor had ordered him and his colleagues to come to some arrangement with the Japanese Minister, refused to consider any of the various proposals made by the latter. After that Marquis Ito arrived and the account of what happened subsequently, as given in the memorial, is the same in all essential details as that related in the first part of this chapter.[42]

With regard to this Treaty as a whole no advocate of Japan will, of course, claim that it was entered into by Korea with a willing heart—much less, in a jubilant spirit. It is seldom, indeed, that treaties of any sort are concluded between two countries with apparently conflicting interests, where both are equally well satisfied with their terms. In all cases in which one party is compelled on grounds of expediency, or[278] of fear that greater evils will follow the rejection of the terms proposed by the other party, there is a sense in which it may be said that the will is not free, but that the deed is done “under a sort of compulsion.” But if all treaties made under such conditions may be repudiated when conditions are changed, or if either of the parties to a treaty may act with treachery, and without punishment, when called upon to carry out faithfully the contracts thus entered into, the peace of the world cannot be secured or even promoted by any number of treaties. A feeling of regret and chagrin, especially on the part of the official classes and, indeed, of the educated men of Korea in general, was to be expected. So far as it was sincere and unselfish, the feeling was honorable; and for it the Resident-General and all those agreeing with his policy have never shown any lack of respect. But, as has already been made clear, the important thing with the millions of Korea is not, who are Cabinet Ministers, or who manages the foreign affairs of the country, or even who is Emperor; for them the important thing is the character of the local magistrates and the amount of their “squeezes.”

Protests and petitions followed the enactment of the Treaty of November, 1905. The Emperor refused to receive the petitions or to give audience to the petitioners. And when two men, among the most sincere and blameless of his subjects—General Min Yung-whong and Mr. Choi Ik-hiun—persisted in petitioning to be punished (as would have been in accordance with Korean custom under similar circumstances) for their disobedience to the Emperor’s commands in refusing to accept the Treaty, the Emperor declined to punish them. The petitioners then transferred their efforts from the Palace to the Supreme Court, and were disappointed there also. One of them, perhaps both, undertook to punish themselves by suicide. General Min thus became the typical martyr of the period. He is described by one who knew him well as “a[279] man of amiable character, of dignified manners, and pleasing address. He was known at one time as the ‘good Min,’ to distinguish him from the other members of the family to which the late Queen belonged.” But it has already been shown that, during the entire course of Korea’s history, such men have almost always been without sufficient influence, or strength of character, to serve their country well and escape death—usually, at the hands of the Emperor or their rivals, sometimes, however, by their own hands. For a time the air was full of rumors of suicide and uprisings; but in fact there was little of anything of the kind, even in Seoul; the stories of wholesale suicides are false. Beyond Seoul, and outside of a few of the larger towns in which greater numbers of the Yang-bans resided, there was scarcely any excitement of any kind. The Treaty then went into effect, on the whole quietly, under Marquis Ito who had negotiated it as the Representative of Japan.

In this way the Japanese Government in Korea was substituted for the Korean Government in all matters affecting the relations of foreign countries, and their nationals, to the peninsula. The retirement of the Foreign Legations followed logically and as a matter of course. It is needless to say that this change of responsibility for the conduct of these relations was accepted without dissent or formal protest from the Governments of the civilized world. Indeed, with the exception of Russia, all the nations supremely interested had acknowledged already that, under the Protocols of 1904, Korea had lost its claim to be recognized as an independent state in respect of its foreign affairs.

A just appreciation of the mental and moral characteristics of alien races is a delicate and difficult task to achieve, even for the experienced student of such subjects. From others it is scarcely fair, no matter how favorable the opportunities for observation may have been, to expect any large measure of real success in the accomplishment of this task. The more important reasons for the failure of most attempts in race psychology may be resolved into the following two: a limitation of the observer’s own experiences, which prevents sympathy and, therefore, breadth of interpretation; and the inability to rise above the more strictly personal point of view. In both these respects, women are on the whole decidedly inferior to men; accordingly, their account of the ethnic peculiarities—of the ideas, motives, and morals—of foreign peoples is customarily less trustworthy. The inquirer after a judicial estimate of the native character will find this fact amply illustrated in Korea. But what is more weighty in its influence as bearing upon such a problem as that now under discussion is this: all the inherent difficulties are enhanced when it is required to understand and appreciate an Oriental race by a member of a distinctively Western civilization. It is without doubt true that all men, of whatever race or degree of civilization, are essentially alike; they constitute what certain authorities in anthropology have fitly called “a spiritual unity.” But for the individual who cannot expect[281] to find within himself whatever is necessary to understand and interpret this unity, and especially for the observer who does not care even to detect and recognize the existence of such a unity, the difference between Orient and Occident is a puzzle—perpetually baffling and seemingly insoluble.

Now in some not wholly unimportant aspects of Korean character and Korean civilization, these difficulties exist in an exaggerated form. Korea is old in its enforced ignorance, sloth, and corruption; but Korea is new to rawness, in its response to the stimulus of foreign and Western ideas, and in its exposure to the observation, either careless and casual or patient and studious, of visitors and residents from abroad. Korea has not yet been awakened to any definite form of intelligent, national self-consciousness. At the same time, neither its material resources, nor its physical characteristics, nor its history and antiquities, nor its educational possibilities, nor the distinctive spirit of its people, have ever been at all thoroughly investigated by others. No wonder, then, that the views expressed by the “oldest residents” in Korea regarding the characteristics of its rulers and its people—Emperor, late Queen, Yang-bans, pedlers, and peasants (for there is almost no middle class)—are strangely conflicting. Diverse and even contradictory traits of character are, with equal confidence and on the basis of an equally long and intimate acquaintance, ascribed by different persons to all these classes.

The true and satisfactory account of these differences of opinion is not, however, to be found by wholly denying the justness of either of the opposite points of view. Contradictions are inherent in that very type of character of which the Koreans afford so many striking examples. Indeed, all peoples, when at ascertain stage of race-culture, and the multitudes in all civilizations, are just that—bundles of confused and conflicting ideas, impulses, and practices, which have never[282] been unified into a consistent “character.” The average Korean is not only liable to be called, he is liable actually to be, kindly and yet cruel, generous and yet intensely avaricious, with a certain sense of honor and yet hopelessly corrupt in his official relations. Accordingly, as one puts emphasis on this virtue to the exclusion or suppression of that vice, or turns the eye upon the dark and disgusting side of the picture and shuts out the side that might afford pleasure and hope, will one’s estimate be made of the actual condition and future prospects of the nation.

But let us begin our brief description with the man who has been for more than a generation the chief ruler of Korea, the now ex-Emperor. He is a typical Korean—especially in respect of his characteristic weakness of character, his taste for and adeptness at intrigue, his readiness to deceive and corrupt others, and himself to be deceived and corrupted. For all this no specially occult reasons need to be assigned. With a weak nature, his youth spent under the pernicious influence of eunuchs and court concubines and hangers-on, his manhood dominated by an unceasing and bloody feud between his wife and his father, his brief period of “independence” one orgy of misrule, and his latest years controlled by sorceresses, soothsayers, low-born and high-born intriguers, and selfish and unwise foreign advisers: what but incurably unsound character, uncontrollable instability of conduct, and a destiny fated to be full of disaster, could be expected from such a man so placed?

The father of the ex-Emperor was Yi Ha-eung, Prince of Heung Song, who was long the so-called “Regent” or “Prince-Parent,” and is best known in history as the “Tai Won Kun.” It has been said of him that “he was the grandson of a great and unfortunate crown prince, the great-grandson of a famous king, the nephew of another king, and the father of still another king.” The lineal ancestor[283] of the Tai Won Kun was Yong-jong, who reigned from 1724 to 1776. This sovereign quarrelled with his own son and had him put to death as insane; but other issue failing, the crown descended through the murdered crown prince, and from him through three lines of monarchs. Until his son was chosen to occupy the throne, the Tai Won Kun, although he had married into the powerful Min family, does not seem to have exercised much influence in politics. But in 1864, on the death of the king, without male issue the Dowager Queen Cho, by what is reported to have been a not altogether legitimate procedure, proclaimed the second son of the Tai Won Kun, then a boy of only twelve years, as the successor to the throne.

Little is exactly known as to the care or education of the boyish king during his earliest years. It is commonly reported that he was fond of outdoor sports, especially of archery, and disinclined to study. Yet he is reputed to be a fine Chinese penman and to be well acquainted with the Chinese classics. His father was a strict disciplinarian and, although he was never legally in control of affairs during his son’s minority, his influence was dominant so long as he kept on good terms with the wily Queen Dowager and the Ministers of her selection. The failure of all foreign attempts to enter into friendly relations with the Koreans, and the persecution and slaughter of foreign Christian priests and of thousands of Korean Christians during this period, are customarily attributed to the influence of the Tai Won Kun.

When thirteen years of age, the new king was married to a girl selected for him from the Min family. But until 1873 his position as ruler was only nominal; on the attainment of his majority, however, the deadly struggle between the wife and the father, the Queen and the Prince Parent, began to be revealed. A word as to the character of the woman is[284] necessary in this place, in order to understand the conduct of the King and, as well, the recent history of Korea. The Queen was, without doubt, an unusually gifted and attractive woman, with the ability to attach others to her, both men and women, in a powerful way. But a more unscrupulous and horribly cruel character has rarely disgraced a throne, whether in ancient or in modern times. Her rivals among the women of the court were tortured and killed at her command; the adherents of the Tai Won Kun were decapitated and their bodies thrown into the streets or their heads used to festoon the gateway. One of the Koreans acquainted with court affairs during her reign informed a friend of the writer that, by careful calculation, he had reckoned the number of 2,867 persons put to death as the victims of her personal hatred and ambition. The number seems incredible, and there is no way to verify it; but no one who knows the history of the Korean Court, even down to very recent years, will assert that it cannot be correct. The tragic death of this woman, not improperly, drew temporarily a veil over these atrocities. But their existence is a part of the proof that, pernicious as was much of the father’s influence over the king, the influence of the wife and her family was yet more pernicious.

It was under influences such as these that the royal character of Yi-Hy-eung, now ex-Emperor, developed, and that all the earlier part of his reign was concluded. The result was to be expected—namely, an amiable and weak nature rendered deceitful, cruel, and corrupt. The impression made by his presence—as already described (see p. 46 f.)—is not one of dignity and strength of character; but the voice is pleasant, the smile is winsome, the willingness to forgive and to do a good turn, if either or both can be done without too much sacrifice or inconvenience, is prompt and motived by kindly feeling. His Majesty is usually ready to listen[285] without malignant anger or lasting resentment to unwelcome advice and even to stern rebuke. On the other hand, as already said, he is a master of intrigue; and more than once, until very lately, he has succeeded in quite surpassing at their own tricks the wily foreigners who thought to get an advantage over him. On the other hand, his ignorance and credulity have often rendered him an easy victim to the intrigue of others. As one foreign minister, a stanch friend, said of him: “You may give His Majesty the best advice, the only sensible advice possible under the circumstances; he will assent cordially to all you say, and you leave him confident that your advice will be followed. Then some worthless fellow comes in, tells him something else, and what you have said is all wiped off the slate.”

In spite of his natural amiability this ruler has frequently shown a cold-blooded and calculating cruelty, made more conspicuous by ingratitude and treachery; and his reign has been throughout characterized by a callous disregard of the sufferings of the people through the injustice of his own minions. To quote again the estimate of a foreign minister: “His Majesty loves power, but seems color-blind when it comes to the faculty of distinguishing between the true and the false. He would rather have one of the Government Departments pay 20,000 yen in satisfaction of a debt which he owes than pay 5,000 yen out of his own purse.[43] And he allows himself to be cheated with the same sense of toleration[286] which he has for those who cheat the Government, provided that the culprit has the saving grace of a pleasing deportment.” One of his most able and upright Korean officials once declared: “It is true I am devoted to His Majesty, and I am sure he likes me; but if I were to be executed for some crime of which I was completely innocent, and a friend were to come to His Majesty, while he was at dinner, and implore his intercession, if it meant any danger, even the slightest, to him, he would leave me to my fate and go on eating with a good appetite.” During the Boxer troubles in China a plot was devised by the reigning favorite of the Emperor, Yi Yong-ik, to kill all the foreigners in Korea; the plot was exposed, but the favorite did not suffer in his influence over the Emperor. Over and over again, in earlier days, the missionaries have appealed to him in vain to secure their converts against robbery and death at the hands of imperial favorites. It was formerly his custom to have at stated intervals large numbers of persons executed—inconvenient witnesses, political suspects, enemies of men in power. This custom of indiscriminate “jail-cleaning” was, as far as it was safe and allowable under the growing foreign influences, continued down toward the present time.

That the foregoing account of the character of the man who came to the throne of Korea, as a boy of twelve, in 1864, and abdicated this throne in 1907, is a true picture needs no[287] additional evidence to that now available by the world at large. Strangely inconsistent in some of its features as it may seem to be, the portrait is unmistakably true to life. No wonder then, that, after exhausting all his resources of advice, rebuke, and warning, the Resident-General was regretfully forced to this conclusion: no cure for the temperament and habits of His Majesty of Korea could possibly be found. But this had long been the conclusion of his own Cabinet Ministers and all others among the wiser of the Korean officials. It was finally by these Ministers, without the orders, consent, or even knowledge of the Marquis Ito, that in order to save the country from more serious humiliation and disaster, movements were initiated to secure his abdication of the throne he had disgraced for more than forty years.

As to the Korean ruling classes generally, the Yang-bans so-called, it may be said that for centuries they have been, with few exceptions, of a character to correspond with their monarchs. The latter have also been, with few exceptions, such in character as to represent either the weak side or the corrupt and cruel side, or both, of the ruler just described. This truth of “like king, like nobles,” was amply illustrated by the case of Kwang-ha, in the early years of the seventeenth century. When the monk Seung-ji induced this king to build the so-called “Mulberry Palace,” thousands of houses were razed, the people oppressed with taxation, and the public offices sold in order to raise the funds. When the same monarch, yielding to the influences of his concubine and her party, committed the infamy of expelling the Queen-Dowager from Seoul, only one prominent courtier, Yi Hang-bok, with eight others, stood out against 930 officials and 170 of the king’s relatives who were ready to vote for the shameful deed.[44]

The proportion of courageous and honest officials connected[288] with the Korean Court had not greatly increased up to the time when Marquis Ito undertook the task of its purification. This fact, in itself, so discouraging to the effort at instituting reforms from above downward on the part of the Koreans themselves, is made obvious in a striking way by the analysis of a brief, confidential description (a sort of official Korean “Who is Who?”) of ninety-six persons, prepared by one well acquainted with the men and their history, but favorably disposed toward—even prejudiced in favor of—the side of Korea. Of these ninety-six officials, only five are pronounced thoroughly honorable and trustworthy characters; twenty-seven are classed as fairly good; the remainder are denominated very weak, or very bad. Subsequent developments have revealed the weakness or corruption of most of those whom this paper less than ten years ago pronounced to be on the whole either hopeful or positively good. What this means for Korea to-day can be judged by the following selected examples: (1) “A rather proud and rich member of the ⸺ Clan; a notorious squeezer, and one whose services may always be had for a price; absolutely unreliable and incapable of patriotic impulses.” (2) “A contemptible but rich member of the ⸺ Clan; a most detestable oppressor of the people as shown in Pyeng Yang; incapable of good impulses apparently.” (3) “A slippery self-made man; Emperor’s private treasurer; Vice-Minister of Interior for many years; rose through influence of his cousin, but not loyal to latter’s memory; cannot be influenced except through fear or favor.” (4) “A self-made man who might better have let out the job; has courage, and is unmercifully, cruel and oppressive; is the most ignorant official in high office during twenty years.” Yet this low-born and ignorant fellow had almost absolute control of the Emperor and of the country’s finances for several years.

The examples given above may serve to describe the one-third of the ninety-six officials characterized by extreme immorality. Of the other one-third, whose services to their country are rendered available only for evil on account of their weakness, the following examples afford a sufficiently accurate description: (1) “Foreign Minister repeatedly; very deficient in intelligence, but says little and looks wise; too feeble to be dishonest, but an easy tool for one who cares to use him.” (2) “Governor of ⸺; a weak, abominable man, who has done well at ⸺, because kept in check by the Japanese; would be a scoundrel if the opportunity offered; a tool of Yi Yong-ik” (a man notorious for his corruption and oppression, on account of which some of the highest officials knelt before the Palace gate during the entire day and night of November 28, 1902, praying for his trial and punishment; but he was saved by the Emperor, who feared him; he was even subsequently brought back from banishment and restored to his post as “Director of the Imperial Estates”). (3) “An old man of remarkable history; has been on all sides of the political fence; is good at times, and apparently a patriot, and then he will turn up on quite the opposite side.”

It cannot be supposed that an official class, so constituted and so thoroughly imbued with such unwholesome characteristics, would easily form within itself a party loyal to reform, and brave and strong enough to carry its loyalty out into practical effect. As a matter of fact no such political party has ever been formed and maintained to any successful issue, in the history of Korea. For this we may take the word of Mr. Homer B. Hulbert, who says,[45] regarding the formation of parties in 1575: “These parties have never represented any principle whatever. They have never had any platforms, but have been, and are, simply political clans[290] bent upon securing the royal favor and the offices and emoluments that go therewith.” In another work of the same author we are told: “From that day onward (middle of the sixteenth century) politics has been a war of factions, struggling for wealth and power, with no scruples against murder or other crime.” The Koreans are, indeed, given to the formation of societies and parties of various descriptions; the more improper or nearly impossible are the ends to be reached, and the more clandestine and illicit the means employed, the greater the temporary enthusiasm which they are likely to excite. All these parties have therefore one plank and one plan of action: to get the ear of the king, to seize upon and control the office-making power, and so to put in every lucrative or honorable position their own partisans. It is “the spoils system sublimated”; for there is “absolutely no admixture of any other element.”[46]

On the other hand, this same factional and corrupt spirit among the ruling classes has made it certain that, “however good a statesman a man might be, the other side would try to get his head removed from his shoulders at the first opportunity; and the more distinguished he became, the greater this desire would be. From that time (again the middle of the sixteenth century) to this, almost all the really great men of Korea have met a violent death.”... “No matter how long one lives in this country, he will never get to understand how a people can possibly drop to such a low estate as to be willing to live without the remotest hope of receiving even-handed justice. Not a week passes but you come in personal contact with cases of injustice and brutality that would mean a riot in any civilized country.”[47]

As to the public justice when administered by such a ruling class, this has actually been what might have been[291] expected. The one judicial principle universally recognized is that justice is worth its price; the side which can offer the largest bribe of money or influence will uniformly win its case. Of justice in Korea, to quote from Mr. Hulbert again,[48] there is “not much more than is absolutely necessary to hold the fabric of the commonwealth from disintegration.” Until the Chino-Japan war, when Japanese influence made itself felt in a controlling way, the brutal spectacles were not infrequent of men having their heads hacked off with dull swords, or their bones broken by beating with a huge paddle. Death by poison with extract made by boiling the centipede was administered to prisoners. It was not till 1895 that the law was abolished which required the poisoning of mother, wife, and daughter for the man’s treason, the poisoning of wife for his crime of murder or arson, and the enslaving of wife for his theft. When the reformers of 1894 ordered the restoration to their lawful owners of the lands and houses which had been illegally seized, numerous officials—some of whom were well known in foreign circles as partners of concessions obtained through influence—lost large fractions of their wealth because of the decree.

After describing the Yang-ban as one sees him upon the streets or meets him in social gatherings at Seoul in the following terms—a “dignified, stately gentleman, self-centred, self-contented, naïvely curious about the foreigner, albeit in a slightly contemptuous fashion”—a writer well acquainted with the Korean gentry goes on to say: “Experience teaches that this fine gentleman is not ashamed to live upon his relatives, to the remotest degree; that he disdains labor and knows nothing of business; that he is not a liar from malice, but that he is a prevaricator by instinct and habit. Even when he wishes to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, it leaves his lips so embroidered with fanciful elaborations[292] that the Father of lies would be glad to claim it for his own. With all that, he may, according to the accepted standards of his class, be an upright citizen, a kind husband, and a conscientious parent. And just as likely as not, he may possess qualities which endear him to the foreign observer.”

Under centuries of subjection to a ruling class having the character described above, the mental and moral characteristics of the Korean people have been developed as might have been expected. The ethnic mixture from which the race has sprung is possessed of fine physical and spiritual qualities. The male members of the race, especially, are in general of good height, well formed, and capable of endurance and achievement in enterprises demanding bodily strength. They are undoubtedly fond of their ease and even slothful—for man when not stimulated by hope or necessity is naturally a lazy animal—as the impression from the rows of coolies and peasants squatted upon the ground and sucking their pipes, or lying prone in the sunlight, during the working hours of the day, bears witness. As for the Yang-ban, on no account will he do manual work. But, on the other hand, the lower classes make good workmen, when well taught and properly “bossed”; and their miners, for example, are said by experts to be among the best in the world. The success in manual pursuits of those who emigrated to Hawaii some years ago testifies also to their inherent capacity. As has already been said, the Koreans are much given to forming all manner of associations; they are “gregarious in their crimes as in their pastimes.” When well treated they are generally good-natured and docile—easy to control under even a tolerably just administration. Nor are they, probably, such cowards that they cannot be trained to acquit themselves well in war.

The prevailing, the practically universal vices and crimes are those which are inevitable under any such government, if[293] long continued, as that which has burdened and degraded the Korean populace from the beginning of their obscure history as a complex of kingdoms down to the present time. What their vices and crimes are can be learned even better from the lips of their professed friends than from those whom they regard as their open or secret enemies. Of the average Korean Mr. Hulbert[49] affirms: “You may call him a liar or a libertine, and he will laugh it off; but call him mean and you flick him on the raw.” “In Korea it is as common to use the expression, ‘You are a liar’ as it is with us to say, ‘You don’t say.’... A Korean sees about as much moral turpitude in a lie as we see in a mixed metaphor or a split infinitive.” As to his good nature: “Any accession of importance or prestige goes to his head like new wine and is apt to make him offensive.” The same author, after saying of the Korean bullock, “This heavy, slow-plodding animal, docile, long-suffering, uncomplaining, would make a fitting emblem of the Korean people,” goes on to describe his own disgust at the frequent sight of the drunken, brutal bullock-driver, venting his spleen on some fellow Korean by cruelly beating his own bullock. Torturing animals is a favorite pastime for both children and adults. The horrid brutality of the Korean mob, to which reference has already been repeatedly made, has been more than once witnessed by those now living in Seoul; it would speedily be witnessed again, if the hand of the Japanese Protectorate were withdrawn. For the Korean, when angry, is recklessly cruel and entirely careless of life, and resembles nothing else so much as a “fanged beast.”[50] When combined with the superstition and the incredible credulity which prevail among the populace, this brutality constitutes a standing menace to the peace and life of the foreign population residing in the midst of them.[294] It was as late as 1888 that the mob, excited by the report that the Americans and Europeans were engaged in the business, for profit, of killing Korean babies and of cutting off the breasts of Korean women to use in the manufacture of condensed milk, were scarcely repressed from wholesale arson and murder.[51]

The anti-Japanese natives and foreigners have with more or less good reason complained that an increase of sexual impurity and of licensed vice has resulted from the Japanese Protectorate over Korea. Without entering upon the discussion of the difficult problem involved in these charges, it is enough to say that “corruption of the Koreans” in this regard is scarcely a proper claim to bring forward, under any circumstances. It is of no particular significance to determine whether the statement of a recent writer that the exposure of their breasts on the streets is characteristic of Korean women generally, is a libel, or not. It is true, indeed, that the foreign lady who has done much to encourage among the natives of her own sex in Seoul a certain regard for the decencies of civilization, was accustomed, not many years ago, to provide herself with safety-pins and accompany their use upon the garments of the lower classes (women of the higher classes do not appear upon the streets) with a moral lecture. But to one acquainted with the unimportant influence of such exposure upon really vicious conduct among peoples of a certain grade of race-culture, the charge, whether true or not, is comparatively petty. Much more determinative is it to learn from their friendly historians that only one in ten of their songs could with decency be published; that almost all their stories are of a salacious character and, “however discreditable it may be, they are a true picture of the morals of Korea to-day”; and that among the lower classes the utmost[295] promiscuity prevails. “A man may have half-a-dozen wives a year in succession. No ceremony is required, and it is simply a mutual agreement of a more or less temporary nature.”[52]

As to business honesty or respect for property rights, as such, there is almost none of it among the people of Korea. But what else could be expected of pedlers, peasants, and coolies, who have lived under the corrupt and oppressive government of such rulers during centuries of time? To quote again from the friendly historian:[53] “In case a man has to foreclose a mortgage and enter upon possession of the property, he will need the sanction of the authorities, since possession here, as elsewhere, is nine points of the law. The trouble is that a large fraction of the remaining point is dependent upon the caprice or the venality of the official whose duty is to adjudicate the case. In a land where bribery is almost second nature, and where private rights are of small account unless backed by some kind of influence, the thwarting of justice is exceedingly common.” More astonishing still, from our point of view, is the use made of the public properties, which until recently prevailed even in the city of Seoul, by the lowest of the people. Any Korean might extend his temporary booth or shop out into the street, and then, when people had become accustomed to this, quietly plant permanent posts at the extreme limit of his illicit appropriation. On being expostulated with, “he will put on a look of innocence and assert that he has been using the space for many years”;[54] indeed, “he inherited it from his father or father’s father.” To this day the making of false deeds, or the deeding of the same property to two different purchasers (by one false deed and one genuine, or by both false) is an[296] exceedingly common occurrence. If the native wanted a place for the deposit of his filth, and the drain near his house was already full, he dug a hole in the street; if he wanted dirt for his own use, he took it from the street. “Scores of times,” says Hulbert, “I have come upon places where a hole has been dug in the street large enough to bury an ox.” Meanwhile, petty stealing and highway robbery have been going on all over the land. This, too, is the practical morality of the Korean populace, when unrestrained by foreign control, even down to the present time.

A curious confirmation of the foregoing estimate of the mental and moral character of the people of Korea was afforded by the “confessions” which poured forth in perfervid language, ending not infrequently in a falling fit or a lapse into half-consciousness, from thousands of native Christians during the revival of 1906-1907. The sins which were confessed to have been committed since their profession of Christianity, were in the main these same characteristic vices of the Korean people. They included not only pride, jealousy, and hatred, but habitual lying, cheating, stealing, and acts of impurity.

It is, then, no cause for surprise that a recent writer[55] affirms: “If it seems a hopeless task to lift the Chinaman out of his groove, it is a hundred times more difficult to change the habits of a Korean.... The Korean has absolutely nothing to recommend him save his good nature. He is a standing warning to those who oppose progress. Some one has said that the answer to Confucianism is China; but the best and most completely damning answer is Korea.”

Can Korea—such a people, with such rulers—be reformed and redeemed? Can her rulers be made to rule at least in some semblance of righteousness, as preparatory to its more perfect and substantial form? Can the people learn to prize[297] order, to obey law, and to respect human rights? Probably, yes; but certainly never without help from the outside. And this help must be something more than the missionary can give. It must lay foundations of industrial, judicial, and governmental reform: it must also enforce them. Such political disease does not, if left alone, perfect its own cure. The knife of the surgeon is first of all needed; the tonic of the physician and the nourishment of good food and the bracing of a purer air come afterward. We cannot, therefore, agree with the small body of Christian workmen—now, happily, a minority—who try to believe that the needed redemption of Korea could be effected by their unaided forces. A union of law, enforced by police and military, with the spiritual influences of education and religion, is alone available in so desperate a case as that of Korea to-day.

It is to the task of a political reformation and education for both rulers and people in Korea that Japan stands committed before the world at the present time. As represented by the Marquis Ito, she has undertaken this task with a good conscience and with a reasonable amount of hope. Among the administrative reforms in Korea[56] one of the most important is the “Purification of the Imperial Court.” This “singular operation the Resident-General caused to be resolutely carried out in July, 1906.” At that time “men and women of uncertain origin and questionable character ... had, in a considerable number, come to find their way into the royal palace, until it had become a veritable rendezvous of adventurers and conspirators. Divining, fortune-telling and spirit-incanting found favor there, and knaves and villains plotted and intrigued within the very gates of the Court, in co-operation with native and foreign schemers[298] without. By cheating and chicanery, they relieved the Imperial treasury of its funds, and in their eagerness to fill their pockets never stopped to think of what dangerous seeds of disorder and rapine they were scattering broadcast over the benighted peninsula.”

It must doubtless be confessed that under the ex-Emperor the efforts of the Residency-General to effect the needed reforms were successful only to a limited extent. But with his last piece of intriguing to “relieve the Imperial treasury of its funds,” by sending a commission to the Hague Conference, “in co-operation with native and foreign schemers,” the old era came quickly to an end. The history of its termination will be told elsewhere; but the fact has illumined and strengthened the hope that Korea, too, can in time produce men fit to rule with some semblance of honesty, fidelity, and righteousness. Meantime, they must be largely ruled from without.

How this hope of industrial and political redemption may be extended to the people at large and applied to the different important interests of the nation, both in its internal and foreign relations, will be illustrated in the several following chapters. Now that the Emperor[57] is publicly committed to an extended policy of reform; that the Ministers are for the first time in the history of Korea really a Cabinet exercising some control; that the Resident-General has the right and the duty to guide and to enforce all the important[299] measures necessary to achieve reform; that the foreign nations chiefly interested have definitively recognized the Japanese Protectorate; and that the leaders of the foreign moral and religious forces are so largely in harmony with the plans of Japan;—now that all this is matter of past achievement, the prospects for the future of Korea are brighter than they have ever been before. One may reasonably hope that the time is not far distant when both rulers and people will be consciously the happier and more prosperous, because they have been compelled by a foreign and hated neighbor to submit to a reformation imposed from without. That they would ever have reformed themselves is not to be believed by those who know intimately the mental and moral history and characteristics of the Koreans.

The resources of the Korean peninsula have never been systematically developed; indeed, until a very recent date no intelligent attempt has ever been made to determine what they actually are. The Korean Government has usually been content with such an adjustment of “squeezes” as seemed best to meet the exigencies of the times—administered according to the temperament and interests of the local magistracy. At intervals, however, the Court officials have carried their more erratic and incalculable method of extortion and of plundering the people rather widely into effect. Then those of their number who chanced to be His Majesty’s favorites of the hour have enjoyed most of the surplus; the people have submitted to, or savagely and desperately revolted against, the inevitable; but the country at large has continued poor at all times, and has frequently been devastated by famine. As to the exploiting of Korea’s resources by foreign capital, the facts have been quite uniformly these: a combination of adventurers from abroad with Koreans who either possessed themselves, or through others could obtain “influence” at Court has been effected; sometimes, but by no means always, the Emperor’s privy purse has profited temporarily; but the main part of the proceeds has been divided among the native and foreign promoters. Of late years, some of the “concessions” have been almost, or quite, given away in the hope of thus obtaining foreign[301] interference or sympathy. In only rare instances has the national wealth been greatly increased in this way, or even the treasury of the Government been made much the richer.

It is plain, then, that if the Japanese Protectorate is to be made really effective for the industrial uplift and development of the Korean people, as well as capable of rewarding Japan for its expenditure in substantial ways, the resources of the country must be intelligently explored and systematically developed. Here is where the work of reform must begin. In intimate relations with this work stands, of course, the establishment of a sound and stable currency. For the financial condition of Korea up to very recent times was as disgraceful as its industrial condition was deplorable. To this important task of developing the resources of Korea and reforming its finances, Marquis Ito, as Resident-General, and Mr. Megata, as Financial Adviser, have devoted themselves with a patience, self-sacrifice, and skill, which ought ultimately to overcome the tremendous difficulties involved.

“Korea,” says the Seoul Press, “is essentially an agricultural country. Eighty per cent. of her population till the soil, and stinted as are the returns which the soil is willing to yield under the present method of cultivation, the produce from land constitutes at least ninety per cent. of the annual income of the country. To improve the lot of the toiling millions on the farms is therefore to improve the lot of virtually the whole nation. It was in recognition of this obvious fact that Marquis Ito, in addressing the leading editors of Tokyo, in February, 1906, previous to his departure for Korea to assume the duties of his newly appointed post as Resident-General, laid particular emphasis on the urgent importance of introducing agricultural improvements in this country. This question was consequently the very first to engage the serious attention of the authorities of the[302] Residency-General.”[58] The statistics for the year ending December 31, 1906, show that out of an amount of taxes estimated at 6,422,744 yen, the sum of 5,208,228 yen was apportioned to the land tax, and 234,096 yen to the house tax. The difficulty of collecting the taxes, either through the corruption of the officials, or by reason of the inability or inexcusable and often violent resistance of the people, can be estimated by the fact that, of the land tax 2,214,823+ yen was still “outstanding,” and of the house tax, 68,794+ yen.[59]

The institution of an Experimental Station and Agricultural School at Suwon has already been described (p. 122 f.). But in order to accomplish the needed development of Korea’s agricultural resources, the peasant farmers must themselves be induced to reform their methods of cultivation. As might be expected, however, the Korean peasant farmer is suspicious of all attempts to improve his wasteful methods, is extremely “conservative” (a much-abused word) in his habits, and slow to learn. Some good work has, however, already been done by way of opening his eyes. The example of the Model Farm, which is limited to one locality, is supplemented by the example of the Japanese farmers who are settling in numerous localities. To take an instance: improved Japanese rice seed was distributed gratis in various parts of the country. But even then it was necessary to guarantee the farmers against loss in order to induce them to try the experiment of cultivating it. The result of the experiment was most encouraging. The yield was in every case greater than that obtained from the native seed; in some cases the gain in the product being as much as from six to ten tō (3-5 bushels) per tan (¼ acre). Similar experiments[303] are now in progress with the seed of barley and wheat, imported from Japan, America, and Europe.

In intimate connection with these plans for developing the agricultural resources of Korea stands the project for utilizing the unreclaimed state lands. And surely here, at least, all those who have the slightest honest feeling of regard for the real interests of the country ought to wish that the people, and not the Court, and not the foreign promoter, should be primarily considered and protected. How great are the chances for waste, fraud, and unwise action in the distribution of this form of the nation’s resources, no other country has had better reason to know than has the United States.

For the purpose of “Utilization of Unreclaimed State Lands” a law was prepared under the advice, and by the urgency, of the Japanese Government, and promulgated in March of 1907. This law, including the Supplement, consists of seventeen articles, according to which all uncultivated lands, marshes and dry beaches not constituting private properties, will be included in the category. On application to the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, these lands will be leased for a period not exceeding ten years. The Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry is authorized to sell or give gratis the leased lands to lessees who have successfully carried out the prescribed work on them. For the five years following the year in which such a sale or bestowal has taken place, taxation on these lands will be at the rate of one-third of the tax levied on the lowest class lands of the province of which they form a part. The lessees will be unable to sell, transfer or mortgage the leased lands without permission of the Minister above mentioned. Charters for lands on which the prescribed work has not been started within one year of the date of their granting shall be cancelled, also those for lands on which the work, after commencement, does not make sufficient[304] progress—unless proper reason for that can be shown. Any person who utilizes unreclaimed state lands in violation of the present law will be liable to a fine of between five and two hundred yen inclusive. In the case of the utilization of unreclaimed state land less than three cho (some 7 acres) in area, the present law will not be applied for the time being, the old custom in force being adhered to. Possessors of charters for the utilization of unreclaimed state lands which have been obtained before the promulgation of the new law and which are still valid must apply to the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry for their recognition within three months of the date of enforcement of the present law. When the lessees who have obtained such recognition have succeeded in carrying out the prescribed work on the leased lands, the lands will be presented to them by the Government.

Another important part of the development of the agricultural resources of Korea is the introduction of wholly or largely new products of the land. This is, indeed, a more truly “experimental,” and in some cases highly speculative, procedure. There will doubtless be, as its inevitable accompaniment, a larger percentage of failures; there maybe, if the experiments are not intelligently made and hedged about with educational and legal precautions, financial losses which the poverty of the country can ill afford to bear. There is, perhaps, peculiar danger of this under the dominant Japanese influences; for Japan has herself not as yet, industrially and financially, got her heel firmly on the ground. Experiments of various kinds, of a highly speculative character, are still according to the mind of the nation at large. But the Government of Japan is meantime training its own young men to a more thorough scientific acquaintance with the facts and laws which determine industrial prosperity; and under the administration of the Residency-General in[305] Korea the Japanese Government is committed to the plan of giving to the Koreans also the fullest share in the benefits of this training.

To mention a single instance of the class of projects to which reference has just been made, we quote the following paragraph from an official paper:[60]

Of the same character as the project for raising cotton in Korea, although rather less experimental, are the plans for increasing the product of tobacco. Of this Mr. Megata says in his last report: “Investigations are being made of the various sources of wealth, of which tobacco is regarded as the most promising. Practical examination as to the state of tobacco manufacture in this country was started in the preceding years. Exertion is being made by the Government for the extension of the general demand for Korean tobacco. Better qualities of it were selected and sent to the Tobacco Monopoly Bureau of Japan for trial manufacture. The improvement of its planting and manufacture and of the selection of seed is being studied. For the purpose of investigating the relation between the climate and tobacco-planting, the survey of the climate of the country was commenced; and the result of the investigation is now to be taken into consideration for the safety and progress of that industry in this country. Korean youths to engage in the investigation of the resources of national wealth are being trained for the task.”

Next to agriculture in importance stands the development of forestation in Korea. The Koreans have never given any attention to the art of growing trees either for timber or for fuel. The late Tai Won Kun, as one of the ways adopted by him for ruining the country while building a palace for his son, ordered every owner of large, serviceable trees throughout the land to cut them down and transport them to Seoul at his own expense. Day by day, and hour by hour, the Korean populace, to the number of thousands of old men, women, and boys, with hundreds of bullocks and ponies, are engaged in exterminating the future forests in order to provide themselves with fuel, of which they will not be persuaded to make economical use, and which they cannot dispense with so long as their present tastes and contrivances[307] for heating themselves and cooking their food are not changed. Hence, all over the more frequented parts of Korea the hills and mountains, unless in comparatively rare cases they are especially protected, are denuded and barren. This constant deforestation has its customary inevitable results. In dry seasons there are those chronic water famines which discourage the farmer’s cheerful industry, and which encourage him to hatred of the government, to refusal to pay taxes, and to violent and murderous revolt. But when there is abundance of rain, then follow inundations, almost as destructive to the fields as are the droughts. Mining and all other industries suffer from the same source. Thus, as says the Report of the Residency-General, when “seen from the economic, sanitary, or political point of view, one of the greatest needs of Korea at present is the rehabilitation of its forests.” The task involved in this matter of industrial reform and development of resources is, however, of the most difficult order. The rights of the people, not only to use as they please their own trees, but to plunder the hill and mountain sides of their fuel, regardless of ownership, are firmly established by usage. In the bitter weather of winter much suffering would ensue, and its consequent political disturbance, if these customs were suddenly and extensively controlled. Nevertheless, model forests have been established and instruction in forestation is given to Korean youths in a school founded for that purpose. Below are given the names of localities and the sizes of the model forests so far established, with their outlays:[62]

“Koan-ak-san and three other places in the vicinity of Seoul. Total area 2,060 cho. Outlay, about 152,000 yen, distributed over five years, commencing 1907.

“Tai-syong-san and two other places in the vicinity of[308] Pyeng-yang. Total area 610 cho. Outlay, about 63,000 yen, distributed over five years, commencing 1908. [Nursery beds expected to be opened in 1907.]

“Oa-yong-san and one other place in the vicinity of Taiku. Total area 650 cho. Outlay, about 63,000 yen, distributed over six years, commencing 1908. [Nursery beds expected to be started in 1907.]”

The more important resources of this class are, however, the existing forests along the banks of the Yalu and Amur rivers. Indeed, the desire to gain control of this wealth of timber was one of the more immediate causes leading to the Russo-Japanese war; it is still one of the more difficult points for satisfactory adjustment on the part of the three nations chiefly concerned. For the development of these resources an agreement between Japan and Korea was signed on October 19, 1906, by the Marquis Ito and the Korean Prime Minister, the Minister of Finance, and the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry. The text of this agreement and a brief introduction, stating its importance, is given in Mr. Megata’s last report.[63] “The banks along the Yalu and Amur,” says this report, “are rich in forests which have never been cut. Proper management of those forests would yield a considerable revenue to the treasury; but at the same time it would require not a little expense. In the present condition of the Korean finances it would not be wise to undertake this on the account of Korea alone, although the opening up of such a source of wealth is highly necessary.” An agreement was concluded between the governments of Japan and Korea in October last to carry on the forestry along those banks on their joint account, each government investing 600,000 yen. The agreement newly concluded reads as follows:

For centuries Korea has been reputed to be rich in deposits of gold; and it is a fact that Japan, by trading with Korea, obtained most of this precious metal, which the Dutch, by shrewd management of their relations in trade with Japan, carried off to Holland. Both these Oriental countries in this way contributed to the enrichment of a limited number of Europeans. But the real condition of the mining resources[310] of the peninsula has never been investigated; even the amount of the annual product of gold has never been accurately ascertained; and—worst of all—there have never been any laws or accepted principles to govern the mining industry. The result of all this ignorance, confusion and fraud is not difficult to conjecture. “Some mines,” says the official report, “are under the direct control of the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry; with others the granting of a concession rests with the Chief of the Mining Bureau; with others again, the subordinate officials on the spot have it in their power to allow or disallow their working; and to make confusion worse confounded, there are even mines operated under patents secretly granted by the Emperor without consulting the Cabinet. This chaotic state of things is bad enough, but it does not stop here. For in some cases the concessions granted are cancelled without compensation; while in other cases, one and the same mining district has been leased to several persons one after another until it has become utterly impossible to tell which is the rightful concessionaire. Then, again, there are cases in which the Departments of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, of Finance, and of the Imperial Household, severally and independently, have levied mining taxes to suit their own convenience; while in others, the provincial authorities quite arbitrarily collect imposts. In the midst of this indescribable confusion, the cunning and unscrupulous have not been slow to make the most of the situation, by having recourse to bribery, instigation, intimidation, and other unlawful schemes, until vast tracts of mining lands have come under their control.”[64]

To remedy, as far as possible, these evils and to limit their continuance into the future, a General Mining Law was proclaimed on July 12, 1906, and a Placer Mining Law on[311] the 28th of the same month. Both these laws were accompanied by the enactment of detailed rules. The principal features of these laws provided that mines, whose ownership could not be definitely ascertained, should revert to the state; that the limits of mining concessions should be definitely prescribed; that mining rights which could be established as legally gained should be legally protected; that the taxes on mining properties should be unified; and that priority of application, in cases of competing concessions, should, until examination could be made, stop the granting to others of the same concession in an arbitrary way. In the effort to put into effective operation these legal enactments it was necessary to call upon the Korean authorities to promulgate a list of the mines belonging to the Imperial Household, and also a list of such Crown mines as the Household might intend to work for itself. But the Korean authorities, either from ignorance, sloth, or other even less creditable reasons, did not make haste to prepare such a list. Meantime, all mining rights were, legally considered, in abeyance. It was only after repeated and urgent remonstrances from the Resident-General, and as late as November 17, 1906, that the required list was promulgated. It then appeared that the Imperial Household not only laid claim to mines claimed by Japanese, but also by American and European concessionaires.

The falsity of the statement, so repeatedly made abroad, that the Koreans are being robbed by Japanese, to the detriment of the interests of other foreigners, under the protection of the Japanese Government in Korea, is made obvious by the following, among other facts. Had the applicants to these contested claims been only Japanese or Koreans, they would have been required to survey the properties and make out maps at their own expense; but in deference to the interests of the American and European claimants the survey was made by experts at the expense of the state. And while only[312] twenty per cent. of the 200 applications made by Japanese were granted, “virtually all the applications made by Americans and Europeans were granted.”

Besides gold, which is found especially in the form of gold-dust, there are in Korea silver, copper, graphite, and coal. The coal is not good for steaming purposes, nor fitted for export; but when made, by mixing it with earth, into bricks or balls, it is valuable as fuel for those who can afford its use. The total annual value of these mineral products, for reasons already explained, cannot be accurately ascertained. Hitherto much of the gold has been smuggled out of the country in order to escape the export and other taxes. It is calculated, however, by the Residency-General that in the aggregate these products do not fall below 6,000,000 yen.

We shall not attempt to speak in detail of the other natural resources of Korea, of its fisheries, or its sericulture, or its raising of fruit. But all these have been in the past left in a lamentable condition of ignorance and disorder; and all of these are to be made objects of attention, with the purpose of reform, by the Korean Government under the Japanese Protectorate.

What has been shown to be true of the natural resources of Korea, in soil, forests, mines, and other products, is true of its manufacturing industries. Early in her history Korea attained a considerable development in the arts of weaving, pottery, paper-making, metal-casting, and the dressing of skins. In several instances Japan borrowed her models from Korea in all these lines of the industrial arts. But to-day there is absolutely nothing that a foreign traveller would covet to take away from Korea except, perhaps, a Korean brass-bound chest or a set of its rude brass utensils for holding food. The founding of an Industrial Training Institute in the spring of 1907, and a statement of what it proposes to try to accomplish for the revival and development[313] of Korean industrial arts, have been referred to in an earlier chapter (p. 128 f.). Its practical results must be awaited with patience; but now that the control of the Resident-General over internal affairs in Korea is increased by the Convention of July, 1907, we may reasonably anticipate favorable results in due time.

The matter of the Customs stands midway between the development of the natural resources and the control of finance; it therefore concerns both the topics which are being briefly treated in this chapter. The following quotation from the last report of the Financial Adviser to the Korean Government gives all the information necessary to our purpose upon this point:

The development of the resources of any country is, of course, intimately dependent upon the soundness and wisdom of its financial policy and administration. This is increasingly so under modern conditions in countries where international relations are of the greatest importance. Nothing could have been worse than the chaotic condition of the Korean finances when Mr. Megata, in conformity with the Convention signed between Japan and Korea on the 22d of August, 1905, was appointed Financial Adviser to the Korean Government by the Imperial Japanese Government.[65] Mr. Hulbert, who afterward became the most unsparing critic of Mr. Megata’s policy, himself wrote in the Korean Review, in 1903: “It is encouraging to note that every part of the Korean Executive has come to the conclusion that something has got to be done to put Korea’s money system on a more secure foundation.” It was, however, largely this same “Korean Executive” which had been chiefly responsible for the deterioration of the currency and for the entire confusion in the financial condition of the country. On this matter of the deterioration of the currency, the Financial Adviser says in one of his Reports:[66] “The currency of Korea, though nominally on a silver basis, has hitherto in reality possessed no standard, and only cash and nickel coins have been in circulation. Before the commencement of the reorganization of the currency, the market rate of the nickel coins fell to 250 won for 100 yen in gold (Japanese currency); while that of the cash fluctuated from 100 per cent. to 60 per cent. premium. All cash pass at a uniform rate in spite of their different sizes and weights. The market rate varies according to the condition of supply[316] and demand. When the market rate is equivalent to one rin (1-1000 yen Japanese currency) it is called par; when it is 2 rin, the cash is at 100 per cent. premium. Cash are preferred in some provinces, nickel coins in other provinces. Since the commencement of the withdrawal of the old nickel coins in June, 1905, the market rate has gradually risen, and at present it is steady at the normal rate of 200 won to 100 yen. (According to the Currency Law, the face value of the old nickel coin is 2.5 sen, its intrinsic value being 2 sen).”[67]

Nor was the chaotic state of the currency the only evil connected with its use. The cash, while having the preference over the nickel coins because its intrinsic value was more nearly equal to its market value, and it was therefore more stable, was intolerably inconvenient for monetary transactions of any considerable size. Its value was so low as to make it not worth the risk of counterfeiting. But even the traveller for a few weeks in the country could pay his expenses only by taking along several mule-loads of these petty coins. The nickels, on the contrary, were exceedingly unstable, and were subject to wholesale debasement and counterfeiting. It is true, as Mr. Hulbert charges, that “counterfeit nickels were made largely by the Japanese in Osaka”; but it is also true that these coins were counterfeited in large quantities by the Chinese, and that the worst offenders were the Koreans themselves. Here, as everywhere during the contemporaneous history of Korean affairs, it was the “Korean Executive” which was chiefly to blame. In some cases the Government loaned its coining machine for a money consideration; in others, the “promoter of the minting industry” was obliged to content himself with a manufacturing outfit obtained on private account. In this connection the author[317] calls to mind an astonishing but authentic story of how a boy, deputed by his father to return to a benevolent association in Seoul a sum of money which had been originally stolen by the trusted agent of this association and loaned to the father, stole the money again and spent it in the purchase of a counterfeiting machine. It should be added that these remarkable transactions were of recent occurrence.

Japanese counterfeiters were arrested, tried and punished, after the passage of a law by the Diet making it an offence to counterfeit foreign money in Japan, with the same penalties as those applied to cases of counterfeiting Japanese money.[68] Even before that, administrative measures were taken by the Japanese to break up the illicit industry. So far as Korean offenders were concerned, nothing was done to punish the chief culprits. In fact, the Korean Government was hardly in a position to do anything, having itself made large over-issues of nickels, and even surreptitiously farmed out the right to private individuals to coin them. This right was exercised, among others, by a relative of the Emperor. Doubtless this official malfeasance is what Mr. Hulbert alludes to when he speaks of the “prime movers in the deterioration of the currency.”

The history of this nickel coinage is another illustration of[318] the opera bouffe methods which characterize Korean public administration. The discovery of the potentialities of fiat currency probably came in the nature of a revelation to Korean officialdom. It opened vistas of profit never before dreamed of; all that was needed was the raw material and a machine. Finally the industry ceased to be as remunerative as at first; and the “Korean Executive,” all branches of it, discovered (in 1903) that, sooner or later, even a nickel coinage will find its true level.

Such, briefly described, was the deplorable state of the financial affairs of Korea when Mr. Megata’s administration began. This was only a brief time ago, or in 1905. What has already been accomplished for the reform of the Korean finances may be summarized as follows.[69] The first step taken was the adoption of the gold standard, followed by the promulgation of a law strictly prohibiting the private minting of nickel coins, and the endeavor to recall this currency already in circulation. Measures were also taken to popularize the circulation of notes issued by the Dai Ichi Ginko (First Bank), and to enlarge the sphere of circulation for the coins newly introduced. “The organ for the circulation of money and the collection of the taxes having been now fairly well provided, efforts will be made to restrict and ultimately prohibit the circulation of the fractional cash now in use in the three southern provinces, by encouraging the employment of notes in accordance with the law regulating currency.” “As regards the bank-notes issued by the General Office of the First Bank in Korea, the Korean Government has officially sanctioned their compulsory circulation. But, it being deemed desirable to have said Government grow firm and content in the idea that the notes are the national currency, a contract was concluded in July, last[319] year (1906), between the Government and the First Bank, providing that the pattern and denomination of the notes shall be subject to the approval of the Resident-General and the Korean Minister of Finance; that the amount of their issue and of the reserve be reported every week to the said Minister; that the Korean Government have the power to institute inquiries and examinations with respect to the issue of notes; and that the bank be placed under reasonable obligations in return for the exclusive privilege of issuing notes.”

The General Office of the First Bank at Seoul has now been made the Central Treasury of the Government of Korea; and therefore receives on deposit and pays out the exchequer funds. It is under the competent management of Mr. Ichihara, who, after several years of study of economics and finance in the United States, became prominent as a banker in Japan, and was subsequently chosen Mayor of Yokohama. Its branches and sub-branches throughout Korea are assisted by the postal organs in handling the exchequer funds. “Notes Associations,” which undertake to popularize the circulation of reliable negotiable bills, and Agricultural and Industrial Banks, established at different centres for the accommodation of long loans, are also in part the results of Mr. Megata’s reform of the Korean finances. The most important, and doubtless most difficult, thing remaining to be done is the purifying and reorganization of the revenue system. For, as has already been repeatedly indicated, nothing can exceed the measure of ignorance, extortion and corruption, which has hitherto characterized the conduct of the provincial administrative organs.

Perhaps the most difficult problem with which the newly appointed Financial Adviser to the Korean Government had to cope was the retirement of the nickel currency. The solution of this problem was indeed difficult, but it was absolutely[320] indispensable to the very beginning of any systematic reform. The distinction between spurious and genuine coins was scarcely possible; the distinction between those counterfeited without, and those counterfeited with, the sanction of the “Korean Executive” was impossible. The amount of both kinds was hard to determine. According to Mr. Megata’s calculation, the old nickel coins minted by the Government amounted in value to 17,000,000 won; while the spurious, but not debased, coins in circulation may have amounted to some 4,000,000 won.[70] His plan involved both the exchange of the old nickel coins for new coins of a standard value and issued under proper safeguards and restrictions, in accordance with the newly inaugurated gold basis; and also the reduction of the cash by re-minting such coins as were deficient and returning the balance to circulation. From October, 1905, the coinage of silver ten-sen pieces and of bronze one-sen and one-half-sen pieces was begun. By these it was intended to displace the circulation of the old nickel coins. The coins tendered for exchange were classified into three classes: Class A—coins exchanged at the rate of 2 old for 1 new coin; Class B—coins exchanged at the rate of 5 old for 1 new coin; and Class C—counterfeit and debased coins, defaced and returned to the applicants. By these means there was withdrawn from circulation of old coins, between July 1 and October 15, 1905, in Korean dollars to the amount of 10,722,162, of which, however, 1,411,184 were received in payment of taxes.

So radical a change in the currency of the country could not be accomplished without working hardship in certain directions. But those who have carefully examined the existing condition of Korean finances and the working in detail of the plans for reform find reason for praising the prudence and skill of Mr. Megata’s way of accomplishing a[321] most difficult task. The details are to be found, carefully worked out and tabulated, in the official reports. It is enough for us to recognize the enormous change for the better which has taken place during the past two years in the financial condition of the peninsula, and in all the foreign financial relations to Korean business affairs; and, at the same time, to reply with a brief, categorical denial to certain criticisms from unfriendly and prejudiced sources. As to the latter point, “it is untrue,” says a trustworthy informant, “that any Korean capitalists came forward with a bona fide offer of a loan at a lower rate of interest than that procured by the Japanese Government for the retirement of the old nickel coinage. The only plan of the kind which was ever mooted had in view the borrowing of foreign capital, not Japanese. A great deal was said, after the fact, about the readiness of these capitalists to intervene; but Mr. Megata was never given an opportunity to avail himself of their alleged willingness to advance the funds until it was too late. Mr. Megata’s first object was, of course, to obtain the money as cheaply as possible. It was not until he had looked the situation over very carefully, and had made enquiries concerning the possibility of making better arrangements with foreign capitalists that he finally concluded the arrangement with the Dai Ichi Ginko.”

Another example of the same species of criticism is shown in connection with the story that the Korean Emperor desired to advance to the merchants of Seoul 300,000 yen to relieve the distress over the increased stringency in the money market, which was, of course, one of the first results of the conversion of the nickel-coin currency. “For this offer,” the authority just quoted says, “the underlying motive was undoubtedly political. There was distress among the merchants of Seoul, but there was no necessity for the Emperor’s direct intervention. If, indeed, the distress had been as great as was[322] represented at the time, the sum offered, 300,000 yen, was not sufficient to afford permanent relief. The offer of the money was merely another instance of Korean methods. The process of reasoning was simple: Financial distress existed, due to the action of the Japanese Financial Adviser; His Majesty generously came to the assistance of his embarrassed subjects; hence gratitude to His Majesty and humiliation for the discredited Japanese Adviser. Mr. Megata did no more than to treat the matter as its childish nature warranted. It should be added that, in addition to the genuine distress caused by the stringency of the money market, there was a patent attempt to heighten the resultant agitation for political effect. This was met by offers, due to Mr. Megata’s initiative, to advance money on easy terms in deserving cases. The native capitalists made no move to relieve the situation at this supposedly critical juncture.”

The recent condition of the resources and finance of Korea can be discovered in the most trustworthy way possible under existing circumstances, only by a critical study of the detailed reports to which reference has already been made in this chapter. The following more important items are taken from the Report of March, 1907. In this report the total estimated revenue for 1907 is given at 13,189,336 yen, which is an increase of 5,704,592 yen over that of 1906. Of this total, however, 3,624,233 yen is extraordinary. The total estimated expenditure for the same year is 13,963,035 yen, which is in excess of that of the year of 1906, by the sum of 5,995,647 yen. The increase in expenditure is partly to provide for increase in salaries—a necessary measure if the amount of “squeezes” is to be reduced and a sufficient number of competent and honest officials secured; but more largely for the reform of the educational organization, for the founding and support of technical schools, for the extension of engineering works, the building of roads, of law[323] courts, and other public buildings, the founding of hospitals; and for the extension of the police and judicial systems. As to individual items it is noticeable that the military estimates have been reduced from 2,426,087 yen, in 1905, when they were 26 per cent. of the total expenditure, to 1,522,209 yen, or 11 per cent. of the total expenditure for the year 1907. This sum has now further been much reduced by the disbanding of the Korean army, with the exception of a body of palace guards, as a consequence of the new Convention of July, 1907.

One-tenth of the entire estimated expenditure—or, more precisely, 1,309,000 yen—is attributed to the Imperial Household. But even this by no means represents the cost to the nation of the Emperor and his Court under the former occupant of the throne. For all manner of irregular, illicit, and scandalous ways of obtaining money for his privy purse were resorted to by the ruler, whose character and habits in the obtaining and use of money have already been sufficiently described.[71] The trials which have come upon the Financial Adviser of the Korean Government since his appointment, through the behavior of the so-called “Korean Executive,” can scarcely be exaggerated. One of the questions pending when Mr. Megata first assumed office concerned the size of the allowance for the expenses of the Crown Princess’ funeral. The Emperor’s private funds were at a low ebb (they always are); the national treasury was impoverished (it always had been). Yet the Imperial Treasurer, an official of the old-time stamp, insisted that one million yen was absolutely indispensable for the proper carrying out of the burial ceremony(!). This way of plundering the treasury of the country, which was considered especially legitimate by the Korean Court and its parasites, Mr. Megata dealt with in[324] that spirit of “philosophical humor” which is characteristic of him. He patiently pointed out that the estimated prices of many of the items called for were greatly in excess of their market value. In this manner he finally reduced the wily claims of the Korean official to the modest sum of a half-million yen. Two full-dress rehearsals, which differed from the actual ceremony only in the circumstance that the coffin was empty and no official invitations to attend were issued, preceded the final pageant. On each of these occasions the long procession marched pompously through the streets, which were crowded with wrangling lantern-bearers, chair coolies, and the innumerable other horde of a low-lived Korean populace, to the dissipation of all the solemnity of a death-ceremonial, but to the delectation of the spectators as well as the participants.

Name of Loan	Date of Issue	Amount	Interest	Term Outstanding	Date of Redemption
Treasury Bonds	June,	1905	$2,000,000	7	%	3	years	June,	1910
Currency Adjustment	”	1905	3,000,000	6	%	6	”	June,	1915
For Increased Circulation	Dec.,	1905	1,500,000	6	%	6	”	Dec.,	1912
New Enterprises	March,	1906	5,000,000	6½	%	5	”	March,	1916

This debt, while insignificant as compared with that of civilized nations generally, is by no means so when compared with the poverty of Korea. And it will doubtless be largely increased in the near future by the necessity of putting into operation many imperative reforms and improvements of the existing material condition of the country. The possibility, however, of a rapid development of the resources and increase of revenue is also great. To take a single item: while the amount estimated from Port Duties for the year ending December 31, 1906, was only 850,000 yen, the actual income[325] was 2,434,118 yen. Some reduction in the items allowed for expenditure is also possible—for example, that of the Imperial Household, and for the Military (a reduction already accomplished). Under a just administration, with a revision of the system of taxation, the resources and the revenue can probably be doubled in a few years, and at the same time the material welfare of the people improved. With the policy of the present Resident-General continued in force, the prospect is therefore by no means without dominant elements of hope for Korea’s future.

Until recently neither public education nor public justice, in the modern meaning of these terms, has had any existence in Korea. Even those who were regarded as preferred candidates for government positions in educational and judicial fields were not really fitted for the intelligent and faithful performance of their duties—supposing (what, in most cases, was not true) that they really desired efficiency and true success. For the common people of Korea, indeed for all except the most highly privileged classes, there was no opportunity for learning and no conception or experience of the fair, legal safeguarding of human interests and human rights. The older educational methods, so far as method existed at all, were patterned after those of China; but they were never so thorough or excellent of their kind as were the Chinese. Civil service examinations were indeed required for official preferment. These examinations were exceedingly superficial, and were not guarded against fraud; so that the selection of successful candidates was too frequently made on quite other grounds than those of superior excellence in passing the examinations. To this latter fact the Korean stories of poor and worthy candidates who have been unjustly deprived of the offices to which they were entitled bear an ample and often dramatically pathetic witness. While, as to the almost total absence of even-handed justice, from the central government at the Court down to the most petty of the local magistrates, the entire history of Korea is one continued pitiful story.

With regard to the condition of the public education as late as just previous to, and even after the attempted reforms of 1894, we quote the following description from the Korean Review of November of 1904:

It would seem from this account that the contemplated reforms of the educational system, which had been inaugurated ten years before, when the old-fashioned civil-service examinations were abolished, had remained, as is customary with all reforms in Korea if not enforced from without, merely matters of so much paper. Another writer[72] about midway in this decade gives a somewhat better account of Korean educational affairs after the Chino-Japan war.[328] The “present favorable aspect of education” at that time this writer attributes to the influence of the war. It is to be noted, however, that the “favorable aspect” covers, for the most part, only the special schools established in Seoul and does not regard the unimproved and still deplorable state of the public education in the country at large. Stricter attention to the extent of this alleged improvement, even within the city of Seoul, shows how limited it really was. Besides well-deserved praise bestowed upon the few missionary schools, only the governmental so-called “Normal School,” in which 30 scholars were enrolled, and which was presided over by Mr. Homer B. Hulbert, and a school for teaching English to the sons of nobles, numbering 35 pupils, are given as examples. Inasmuch as the latter school had the same teacher, and he was justly complaining that his obligation to teach the young Yang-bans interfered with his legitimate work, the cause of the public education could not have made any considerable advances at this time. The same report speaks of a Japanese school maintained in Seoul by the Foreign Education Society of Japan, in the following significant way: “It was organized in April, 1898, as a token of the sincere sympathy for the lack of a sound educational basis in Korea, with the view of giving a thorough elementary course of instruction to Korean youths, and ‘thus aiming to form a true foundation of the undisputed independence of that country.’”

In further proof of the undoubted fact that the reforms of 1894 had accomplished little in Seoul itself, and almost nothing at all in Korea outside of the capital, we may appeal again to the testimony of the writer in the Korean Review: “We do not see,” says this writer, “how the government can be made to realize the importance of this work. When no protest is made against the appropriation of a paltry $60,000 a year for education as compared with $4,000,000 for the[329] Korean army, there is little use in expecting a change in the near future. The government could do nothing better than reverse these figures; but the age of miracles is past.”

“Before suggesting a possible solution of the question,” this writer goes on to say, “we should note with care what is at present being done to provide young men with an education. There are the seven or eight primary schools in Seoul with a possible attendance of forty boys each. This means a good deal less than 500 boys in this city of over 200,000 people, including the immediate suburbs. At the least estimate there ought to be 6,000 boys in school between the ages of ten and sixteen. Practically nothing is being done. As for intermediate education there is a Middle School, with a corps of eight teachers and an average attendance of about thirty boys. The building, the apparatus, and the teaching staff would suffice for about four hundred pupils. There are several foreign language schools, with an attendance of anywhere from twenty to eighty each, and they are fairly successful.... Then there are the several private schools, almost every one of which is in a languishing condition. A Korean will start a private school on the least provocation. It runs a few months and then closes, nobody being the wiser, though some be sadder. When we come to reckon up the number of young Koreans who are pursuing a course of instruction along modern lines, we find that they represent a fraction of less than one per cent. of the men who ought to attend, and might easily be doing so.” Such was then the condition of the public education in Korea even down until after the beginning of the Russo-Japanese war, or in November of 1904.

The foregoing true account of educational matters in Korea is further confirmed and expanded by the Official Report more recently given out in the name of the Residency-General.[73][330] The report, however, notices the existence of the accepted means of education for the village children in the provinces. These means were employed, after a debased Confucian system, in so-called Syo-bang by a sort of village dominie, who gathered about him the children of the neighborhood and taught them the rudiments of reading and writing the vernacular. There were in 1894 some ten thousand of these schools scattered throughout the peninsula. In the barest rudiments of the native language the instruction they gave was deficient; of modern education in other matters, there was nothing. In Seoul there was also a high-school of Confucian learning (a Syöng-Kyūn-Koan); where the students were taught the three “Primary” and the four “Middle Classics,” and were given some lessons in history, geography, composition and mathematics.

The same Report further agrees with the Article in the Korean Review in considering the reforms proclaimed in 1894 by the government as ineffective. The schools which sprung up under the “Primary School Ordinance,” with the intention of introducing the Western system of education, were almost without exception of the old (Shobo) character. And, indeed, how could it be otherwise, when there were no teachers who could give the rudiments of a modern education, and few pupils who desired such an education? As for the middle-grade education which the Seoul schools professed to give, there was little or nothing to bear out their pretensions.

The Residency-General aims, therefore, “at nothing less than the establishment of an entirely new system of education for Korea.” But the system does not propose to interfere with, much less wholly to close, the existing old-fashioned Confucian institutions. It will, the rather, gradually displace them by something better. The Government system as now planned contemplates supplying the nation with the necessary[331] schools of the different grades, in accordance with the outline of reforms given below.

Any account of educational reforms in Korea would be quite inadequate if it did not include mention of the new provisions for medical and surgical treatment and for the education of native physicians and surgeons. Incredible as it may seem, it is true that there was in the spring of 1907 only one native in all Korea who had received a thorough modern medical education; and this one was a woman who had studied in the United States and was connected with the medical work of the Methodist Mission at Pyeng-yang. In connection with one of the three small hospitals hitherto existing in Seoul there has been for some seven years a Seoul Medical College, with only one Japanese instructor. The hospitals are now to be united in a single large institution, for which 280,000 yen, to be spent in construction, and 123,600 yen, for maintenance, have already been provided. This hospital will also have charge of training for the medical profession and for hygienic and sanitary administration. The site has been secured and the construction of the buildings begun, with the expectation of having them completed during the year 1907.

The educational work thus far actually accomplished in Korea has been chiefly done by the missionary schools. Among these schools those belonging to the Korean Mission of the Presbyterian Church in the United States are most numerous and effective. The Annual Report of this Mission for the year 1906, under the head of “Educational Work,” furnishes information as to the following among other particulars. The total enrolment of the “Academy” was 160,[333] of whom 104 remained in school till the close of the year. In the autumn of 1905, twelve of the students, “contrary to advice and orders, left the school and joined the throng at Seoul, who wanted to lay their lives on the altar of their country in the effort to retain their national independence. The twelve were suspended for the year. Order was finally restored, and the remaining pupils returned to their work with renewed zeal.” The class which graduated in June, 1906, consisted of four members. In the fall of 1906 a sum of money amounting to somewhat more than $2,000 was collected with a view to starting a so-called “college.” The theological instruction which was carried on at Pyeng-yang during the months of April, May, and June, of the same year, became the germ of a developing “Theological Seminary” for the training of an educated native ministry. An advanced school for girls and women had an enrolment of 53 for the year. The number of local primary schools was 4 for boys and 3 for girls, with a total attendance of 494; to these should be added, of the “country schools,” 62 for boys and 8 for girls, with a total attendance of 1,266. Such is the report of the “Pyeng-yang Station.” In the “Seoul Station,” for the same year (1906) the report shows a total of 105 boys, in 4 schools, under 5 teachers, and of 48 girls, in 4 schools, under 4 teachers (rated as “Primary Schools”), in the city of Seoul; and 27 schools with 303 boys and 35 girls, belonging to the churches in this station, outside of Seoul. There was also in this district one “Intermediate and Boarding School,” with 60 boys and 23 girls numbered among its pupils. While the building to accommodate the boys of this school was in process of erection, they were combined with those of a corresponding school belonging to the Methodist Mission; and the united work carried on in the building belonging to the latter Mission thus attained a total enrolment of 150 pupils. Without mentioning the[334] educational work done in less important stations of this Mission, it is enough to say that in the year 1906 there were 7 schools of a grade above the primary, giving instruction to 255 boys and 125 girls, and 208 schools of the lower grade with an enrolment of 3,116 boys and 795 girls as the aggregate number of their pupils. Most of the schools of the primary grade, however, consist of “classes” somewhat irregularly taught, insufficiently supplied with teachers, and wholly without adequate permanent accommodations.

Into the actual condition of educational work in Korea, so far as such work is dependent upon the attitude of the Koreans themselves, the following extract from the Report of the Union High School gives a significant glimpse:[74]

The Mission of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Korea, in its Conference Report for the year 1906, gives the number of its so-called “High Schools” as 2, with 3 teachers and 93 pupils, and of its “other schools” as 54, with an enrolment of 1,564 day scholars. A year later the statistics presented to the Conference stated: “The Mission maintains 106 schools with 3,787 pupils under instruction.”

In connection with the hospitals under both these Missions at Seoul and at Pyeng-yang, a beginning has been made in the preparation of medical text-books for native use, and in the training of natives for the medical profession.

The showing made by the facts just stated is meagre enough, when we consider that it is the best that can honestly be made for a modern nation of about ten millions. There is reason to believe, however, that the statistics exaggerate, rather than minimize, the results already achieved along educational lines. There has, indeed, been a beginning, but only a beginning. There are generous plans adopted and set in operation; but the effectual working of these plans on any considerable scale remains for the future to bring about. The interest of the Emperor and his Court in the educational reform of Korea was no more to be depended upon than was their interest in any other reform, or real and substantial good, accruing to the benefit of the Korean public. So far as these influences prevailed, the Korean system was in 1904, and would have remained, an affair of paper only. But the Korean Department of Education, under the Residency-General, has co-operated faithfully in efforts to give to the country an efficient system of public education. The former Minister of Education, now (1907) Prime Minister Yi, has been at once the strongest and the most sincere of the Korean officials under the Japanese Protectorate. The hope of Korea, and the realization of the hopes of the Marquis Ito for Korea, depend upon the[336] initiation and execution of a wise Government policy of education more than upon any other one influence. Unaided by Japan, Korea would never bring this about. As said Mr. Hulbert, when in his better mind:[75] “What Korea wants is education; and until steps are taken in that line there is no use in hoping for a genuinely independent Korea. Now we believe that a large majority of the best informed Koreans realize that Japan and Japanese influence stand for education and enlightenment; and that while the paramount influence of any one outside power is in some sense a humiliation, the paramount influence of Japan will furnish far less genuine cause for humiliation than has the paramount influence of Russia. Russia secured her predominance by pandering to the worst elements in Korean officialdom. Japan holds it by strength of arm, but she holds it in such a way as to give promise of something better. The word reform never passed the Russian’s lips. It is the insistent cry of Japan. The welfare of the Korean people never showed its head above the Russian horizon, but it fills the whole vision of Japan; not from altruistic motives mainly, but because the prosperity of Korea and that of Japan rise and fall with the same tide.”[76]

In the future development and administration of educational[337] affairs in Korea two principles are especially important to be kept in mind. The first is the necessity for co-operation on the part of all the educative forces under some system or general plan. On the one hand, the private and missionary schools could never suffice for the educational reform of the nation; neither could they supply adequately the needed number or kind of schools for its proper educational development. In general, missionary schools belong to the planting and earlier stages of religious propagandism among peoples who have either no system of public education or a system which is hostile to religious influences. Missionary schools are of necessity foreign schools; when they have effectually performed their initial work, they should somehow become a part of the native equipment for educating the people. As we have already said, they have until recently been almost the only—though exceedingly meagre and faulty—means for giving the rudiments of a modern education to a small fraction of Korean youth. They never could be developed, if they remain simply missionary schools, so as to cope with the entire educational problem in this land of public ignorance and of intellectual and moral degradation. Those who are in charge of them, therefore, should be among the most forward to welcome cordially, and effectively to assist, the organization and advance of a national system of public education in Korea. Otherwise their highest service can never be rendered to the country; their most important and ultimate purpose of contributing toward the evolving of an intelligent Christian nation can never be realized.

On the other hand, any plans for the establishing and developing of a system of education in Korea at the present time should be wise and generous in the matter of taking into its confidence, and availing itself of, the assistance of the mission schools. So miserably poor is Korea in all resources of this character, that the barest principles of economics enforce[338] the necessity of her availing herself of all possible helps. Moreover, the converts to Christianity—although a very considerable proportion of them are ignorant of the truths, and negligent of the morals, of the foreign religion they suppose themselves to have espoused—are multiplying rapidly, and are destined to become of more and more political and social significance in the near future. Some sort of regulated co-operation and conformity to a general plan should, therefore, as speedily as possible be secured between the Government and the private Christian schools. The Japanese and Korean Governments and the Missionary Boards should speedily agree upon some common plan for the requirements of the primary and secondary grades of instruction, and thus actively assist each other in the attainment of their common end. That this cannot be done without sacrificing the special interests deemed most important to each, it would be in contempt of the good sense and sincerity of both to affirm.

The second most important principle to set in control of the educational system of Korea is this. At first, and for a long time to come, it should be pretty strictly limited to fitting the Koreans themselves for a serviceable life, in Korea, and under the conditions, physical, social, and economic and political, of Korea. To educate—after the fashion followed too much by Great Britain in India—thousands of Korean babus, who thus become unfitted for the pressing needs of their country at this present day, and inclined to idleness rather than any hard and disagreeable but useful work, would be a mistake which neither the Government nor the Missions can afford to make. It is a fact, however, that, up to the present time, too large a proportion of the Korean youth, whether educated abroad or in the missionary schools at home, have lapsed into this worthless class. When called upon to work—manfully, faithfully, persistently, doing with his might what his hand[339] finds to do—the Korean, like the Indian babu, is likely to show that his modern education has the more unfitted, rather than the better fitted, him for the effectual service of his country. If this should be the result of modern education, it would be scarcely more to be commended, under existing conditions in Korea, than was the education of the old-time Confucian schools.

The extension of the educational system of Korea ought, therefore, for some time to come to be almost exclusively limited to these two lines—namely, to providing the barest elements of a modern education for all the children of Korea, and to the equipping and developing of the means for fitting the youths of both sexes for the most needed forms of public service. The time to spend large sums of money on the higher branches of a liberal culture has not come as yet for Korea. The present urgent need of the country is for men who will tend her fields and forests, develop her mines and manual arts and manufactures with intelligence; run her railroad trains with safety; who will occupy her magistracies with some knowledge of ethics and of law; and care for her sick and injured with skill in medicine and surgery. Colleges and universities for rearing scholars, authors, philosophers, or gentlemen of learned leisure with Government sinecures, can bide their time.

The deplorable condition of the Public Justice in Korea, from the beginnings of the history of the United Kingdom down to the present time, has been both assumed and illustrated in the preceding pages. It is difficult to give any adequate picture of this condition in few words. The restraints of a constitution or a recognized legal code have had no existence. Court and local magistrates have been alike, with rare exceptions, either inefficient or wholly corrupt. The administrative and judicial functions have not been distinguished, and both have been under the control of “influence,”[340] and devoted to “squeezes” and bribes. Of this illegal and unjust condition the police and the army were, under the old system, the instruments. And whenever during these sad centuries of injustice an occasional monarch, or a few of the inferior officials, attempted reform, if in the one case the attempt was partially successful, the old condition soon returned; while the inferior official who wished to be more just than his colleagues, by this very attempt risked his position or even his head.

Among the reforms contemporaneous with the Chino-Japan war (1894), the remedy for the existing maladministration of justice in Korea naturally had a prominent place. Some of the forms of injustice then in common use—such as the bribing of judges and the punishment of accused persons without even the semblance of a trial—had no justification under Korean law, so far as law existed at that time. Other equally deplorable forms of injustice were, however, strictly legal;—as, for example, the infliction of penalties on the innocent relatives of a condemned criminal, and the imprisonment of the household of an official charged with extortion. In particular, the use of torture—barbarous in kind and extreme in cruelty—was in “full accord” with the legal system of the Ming dynasty in China, which formed the basis of the Korean code. Of the older forms of torture some, such as crushing the knee-caps, slitting the nostrils, applying pincers or hot irons, had already been in 1894 abolished by the Ming dynasty; but a great number of equally painful forms of torture were still legally in practice at that time. Among such were seating the victim on hot coals, driving splinters under the toe-nails, applying fire to the feet and hands, pounding the shins, and squeezing the ankles. On the eleventh of January, 1895, however, the Minister of Justice obtained the king’s assent to the abolition of all the more severe forms of torture except in capital cases. To enforce[341] confession of guilt by beating with a stick was still to be allowed.[77]

The reforms promised and inaugurated in 1895, with respect to the improvement of the administration of justice, like all the other reforms of that time, scarcely went beyond the so-called “paper stage.” Some forms of torture were, indeed, no longer customarily practised; but on the whole the barbarous treatment of accused and convicted criminals was not greatly improved. In civil cases the practice of the Court and of the magistrates was never worse than during the period preceding the Russo-Japanese war. It was, as has already been shown (p. 233 f.), “an orgy of independence.”

In the opinion of Marquis Ito, when he became Resident-General, the primary and most important thing in the interests of the public justice was the discovery, systematizing, and promulgation of the “law of the land.” But how should this difficult task be accomplished? Or—as involving subordinate questions of great importance—upon what foundation of principles should the task be undertaken? In the reforms of 1894-95 the plans of the Korean and Japanese[342] enthusiasts involved the sudden making of all things new. At once, a tolerably complete modern code was to be devised and forced upon the people of Korea. In accordance with these plans an abundance of legislation was enacted; but most of it was, of necessity, ineffective, since it was neither adapted to the present condition of Korean civilization nor ever honestly applied. At the present time in Japan and in view of the large increase of power given to the Resident-General by the Convention of 1907, there is a difference of opinion as to the proper procedure in the reform of the public justice in Korea. A certain party would repeat the mistakes of more than a decade ago. They would have the Japanese Protectorate secure the “entire adoption of the new Japanese Criminal Code, and in civil suits provide Korea with ‘an entirely new set of laws’ patterned after those of modern civilized nations.” This would be a comparatively easy matter, so far as the preparation of a code is concerned. But it would undoubtedly be relatively defective so far as the actual reform of justice in Korea is concerned. “The Resident-General,” says Mr. Stevens, “is manifestly determined to avoid this mistake, and to provide, in the first place, some adequate means for the enforcement of the law.” Meantime, the work of codification is proceeding cautiously. The first step in this work was directed toward the “law affecting real estate.”

“This law”—namely, the law affecting real estate—“has been taken up before all others, because, despite the fact that in the present economic condition of the country immovables form the most important object of ownership, Korea as yet possesses no law of any real efficiency to protect rights relating to real property. For instance, in selling and buying a piece of land or in mortgaging it, the parties concerned have nothing to go by but to follow the old custom of handing over and receiving the bunki, or title deeds, which are[343] generally in the form of a file of documents vouchsafing the transaction. It so happens that the country is now flooded with forged bunkis, and there is really no security for property. For this reason, in July last (1906) the Resident-General caused the Korean Government to institute a Real Property Law Investigation Commission, and urged the investigation of established customs and usages pertaining to immovables, with a view to drafting with the utmost despatch a law of real property of a simple and concise character. The Commission made rapid progress in its work, and in consequence of this the Land and Buildings Certification Regulations (Imperial Ordinance) and the Detailed Rules of operation thereof (Justice Department Ordinance) were promulgated respectively on the 31st of October and the 7th of November following. According to the Regulations, in the case of transfer of land lots and buildings by sale, exchange, or gift, and in that of mortgaging them, the contracts are certified to by a Kun magistrate or Pu prefect; and a contract thus certified constitutes a full legal document, by virtue of which the transfer may be validly carried out without decisions of any law court. When, however, one of the parties to the contract happens to be an alien, not a Korean subject, the document needs to be additionally examined and certified to by a Resident, otherwise the document is lacking in legal efficacy. When neither of the parties are Korean subjects, certification by a Resident alone is sufficient. Simple as the law is, its effect is far-reaching. To give an instance, originally treaties with Korea took cognizance of a foreigner’s right to possess land only within the settlements and one ri zone around them, and hitherto all foreigners have experienced considerable difficulty in securing landed property in the interior of the country; but now, the above Regulations recognize the right of foreigners to possess land in the interior, and the result of[344] their promulgation is the practical opening of the whole empire to foreigners.

“Following this line of action, the Real Property Investigation Commission is steadily working on laws of various descriptions, and it is expected that before long that body will be able to recommend some plan to place the land system of Korea on a solid and fair basis. As soon as the Real Property Law is drawn up and promulgated in a perfected form, the codification of other laws will be taken in hand.”[78]

The necessity for providing means effectively to enforce the existing and the newly to be enacted laws is obvious to any one who is acquainted with the methods of Korean justice down to the present time. This necessity becomes the more imperative on account of the condition of dissatisfaction and unrest which followed the Russo-Japanese war and the establishment of the Japanese Protectorate over Korea. It was further emphasized and brought to an acute form at the time when the abdication of the Emperor and the disbandment of the Korean army, on the one hand, exaggerated the alleged reasons for revolt, and, on the other hand, let loose the forces most ready and appropriate to make revolt effective. The experience in connection with the repeated attempts made to assassinate the Korean Ministry showed plainly enough that Korean police and military could not be depended upon to protect the rights or the lives of their own countrymen. Subsequent events showed that these same “minions of the law” were most dangerous to the property and lives of foreigners. Hence the imperative need of a[345] reorganization of the police. On this matter of reform, the Report of the Resident-General discourses as follows:

The laws of the land may be enlightened in their construction, and the police thoroughly well organized and efficient; but if the courts of justice are not intelligent and honest, the public justice is not secure. In Korea, as in China, from[347] which country she derived her administrative and judicial system, two principal evil influences have prevented any effectual reform in the judiciary. These are the failure to separate the executive and judiciary branches of government, and the fact that officials generally have not been dependent upon sufficient salaries for their reward, but, chiefly, upon the amounts which could be squeezed out of the offices.

“The way in which justice has been administrated in Korea,” says the Report, “is too revolting to all sense of decency to be told in detail. Her political development has never yet attained that stage when the executive and judiciary branches of government separate and become independent of each other. The privilege of meting out justice has always been in the hands of executive officials, and abuses have grown up in consequence of this. Justice, which should always be fair and upright, has generally allowed itself to be influenced by the amount of bribe offered, and right or wrong often changed places according to the power and influence of the parties concerned. The conviction of innocent people, the confiscation of their property, and the liberation of the guilty, all under a travesty of trials, have been common occurrences; very frequently, too, contributions in money or in kind have been extorted under threats of litigation. Korea, indeed, possesses a law court organization by virtue of a law promulgated in 1895, and according to it the courts are of the following descriptions: 1. Special Court of Law (tries crimes committed by members of the Imperial family). 2. Court of Cassation. 3. Circuit Courts. 4. (Seoul) The Trade Port Courts (courts of first resort). 5. District Courts (courts of first resort), and their branches (when needed).”

“The truth is, however, that this organization exists merely on paper, the only courts in actual existence being the Court of Cassation and the Seoul Court. In the provinces,[348] the governors, commissioners and superintendents are, as of old, also judges and hear and judge both civil and criminal cases. The Kun magistrates, too, retain their judiciary powers, which are, however, limited in extent. Even at the independent courts, such as the Court of Cassation and the Seoul Court, judges and prosecutors are men totally deficient in legal knowledge and training, and their judgments often end in the miscarriage of justice. It is not surprising that justice is generally made the object of ridicule and contempt in Korea both by the natives and by foreigners. Treaties give foreigners from the West the right to bring an action against the natives in the Korean Courts in cases of a certain description; but none of them has ever made use of such a right. When any legal dispute arises, these foreigners always make an international question of it and bring it before the Residency-General. Leave the situation as it at present is, and the day will never come when Korea may be freed from the system of extra-territoriality. It being evident that the chief cause responsible for this regrettable state of things lies in the judiciary in force and the incompetency of judges, the Resident-General has decided first to effect reform on these two points, with others to follow gradually. The reforms he has already put in practice for this purpose may be outlined as follows” [Here given only in summary form]:—

The creation of the office of Chief Councillor in the Department of Justice (the incumbent to be a Japanese); increase in the number of judges, procurators, and clerks; the constituting of the Prefects of the eleven Prefectures to act as Judges; provision for proper offices and for the travelling and other expenses of the Judges and the Law Courts; the introduction of rules of the civil service order, so that care may be exercised in the appointment of judiciary officials, etc.

It has already been made sufficiently clear, however, that the one instrument of the public justice which comes closest[349] to the common people of Korea, and which determines more than any other the spirit of satisfaction with their condition or of unrest and revolt, is the local magistracy. On the “Reform of Local Administration” the Report remarks as follows:

The more detailed features of the reforms proposed are uninteresting and difficult to understand for one not making a special study of Korean local administration from the expert’s point of view. In general, the reforms are intended to separate the appointment and control of the local magistracy[350] from Court and other corrupt official influences; to put a stop to the evil practice “of selling offices by holding examinations for official candidates”; to reduce the temptation to increase the squeezes, by increasing the legitimate salary and by providing properly for office, travelling, and other expenses; and to adopt and install “a new official organization for the provincial governors and their subordinates, classifying the nature of the business to be managed by them and defining their powers of issuing administrative orders, of levying local taxes and of conducting other affairs.” These reforms require a considerable increase in the number of officials in both the Do (or Province) and Pu (or Prefecture); but they leave the Kuns (or smaller districts) substantially unchanged in this regard.

Besides the above changes, the Residency-General has already established a Residency or a Branch Residency in each of the provincial capitals. Further, the Local Administration Investigation Commission is now making enquiries into village constitutions, village assembly regulations, and other village association systems, handed down from olden times. From the data thus obtained, a plan will be drawn up for the ultimate introduction of the system of local autonomy. As to the reorganization of the Law Court system, the independence of the Department of Justice, the separation of tax collection from routine executive business as the result of the establishment of a new Taxation Bureau with a chief of its own, etc., these form, no doubt, a part of local administration reform.

Only the result can tell how far, and how soon, these plans for the reform of the public justice in Korea can so change its present deplorable condition in this regard as to satisfy the reasonable wishes of the Marquis Ito, and the Japanese Government, so far as it is supporting him in his peaceful and benevolent plans. The events which have occurred[351] since this Report on Administrative Reforms was composed, have, on the one side, given to the Resident-General and his helpers a freer hand in a more open field, but on the other they have augmented the responsibilities and in some respects increased the difficulties of their task.

By the Protocols of February and August, 1904, and still more perfectly by the Convention of November, 1905, Japan became the sole official medium for communication between Korea and all other foreign Powers. Indeed, as the history of the relations between the two countries—already narrated in summary form—abundantly shows, thus much of control over Korean affairs had been demonstrated to be necessary for the welfare of both. But apart from considerations which are fitted to influence the judgment of either Japanese or Koreans, the question arises: How is the Protectorate of Japan likely to affect other foreigners in their relations to Korea? At present the foreign interests concerned in the solution of the general problem are chiefly of two orders: they are the interests of trade and commerce, and the missionary interests. The larger diplomatic controversies, except so far as these may possibly arise in adjusting these two classes of interests, have now, it would seem, been satisfactorily arranged for some time to come. The recent treaties concluded between Japan on the one side, and Great Britain, France, and Russia on the other, all expressly guarantee respect for Japan’s control over the peninsula. In addition to the arrangement for a sort of reciprocal “hands-off” from each other’s possessions and “paramount interests” in the Far East, into which France and Russia have entered, Great Britain has pledged her support in defence of the Protectorate. All these nations have, moreover,[353] solemnly committed themselves to the maintenance of the integrity of the Empire of China and to the policy of the so-called “open door.” How unlikely it is, then, that the Japanese Government should proceed at once to violate treaty obligations which it has itself been at such pains and expense of men and money to secure, and the maintenance of which, to the satisfaction of its foreign allies, so intimately concerns its own future welfare.

These same Conventions which confer certain rights upon the Japanese Government in Korea just as plainly put this Government under certain solemn obligations. The foreign Powers have, strictly speaking, no diplomatic corps at Seoul. Their Ambassadors and Ministers at Tokyo are their representatives for Korea as well as for Japan. All foreign Powers are represented by officials residing in the capital city of Korea who have consular functions only. Since, however, such functions must, in general, be exercised on the spot, and since other business can often be transacted only there, with any tolerable degree of convenience, the Consuls at Seoul are admitted to correspond with the Residency-General and with the various subordinate Residencies. Naming them in the order of their seniority, Belgium, China, Great Britain, Russia, France, and the United States are now (in 1907) each represented by a Consul-General, and Italy by a Consul. “Where foreign rights of any kind,” says Mr. Stevens—who in saying this speaks both as Adviser to the Korean Council of State and also as Counsellor to the Resident-General—“are threatened or molested, it is the duty of the Japanese Government to furnish safeguards or to provide a remedy. The Japanese Government has the right to employ for that purpose all the machinery which the laws of Korea place in its hands; and it would seem logically to follow, also, that where such means prove inadequate, it is the right, as well as the duty, of the Japanese Government to[354] insist that the deficiency shall be supplied by appropriate legislation or by such other method as may be reasonable and just under the circumstances.”

It does not follow from this, however, that either the rights of the Japanese Government allow, or their obligations compel, it to go to any length demanded by foreign business men, or concessionaires, or even by foreign missionaries, in promoting their real or fancied interests, or in redressing their fancied as well as their real wrongs. There are plainly limits to be observed in meeting demands and requests of this character. It may be the duty of the Japanese Government, for example, to secure and defend all the mining and other concessions made to foreigners which can prove themselves to have been honestly obtained and administered in substantial accord with the initial contract. Inasmuch as few concessions of any sort among those obtained from the last Emperor can stand the test of honesty, or even of tolerable freedom from corruption, it will doubtless be well for the Japanese Government not to be over-scrupulous or too curiously enquiring in many cases. But it certainly is not its duty to allow the Imperial treasury to be plundered ad libitum by contracts made, and concessions obtained, through combinations of corrupt Korean officials with greedy and unscrupulous foreigners. Again: it may be the duty of the Japanese Government to protect a certain “freedom of the press,” in the case of publications owned and managed by foreigners, even if printed in the vernacular and distributed widely among the more ignorant and excitable of the native population. It is certainly greatly to the credit of the Japanese officials to have borne so quietly the slanderous and abusive attacks upon their government of one such publication in Seoul. But surely there may be a limit here also. Undoubtedly that limit was reached, when the vernacular edition of this publication excited the natives to sedition,[355] revolt, and assassination, especially at so critical a juncture in the national affairs as occurred during the spring and summer of 1907. Possibly, there is also a limit beyond which misrepresentation and falsehood directed against individuals not connected with the government ought not to be allowed to pass.[79]

It must also be remembered that the success of the Residency-General in the economic, educational, and judicial reform of Korea depends largely upon husbanding and developing the resources of Korea. In all this, Mr. Megata, the Financial Adviser, has been the right-hand man of Marquis Ito, the Resident-General. If these resources are squandered, or “conceded” in such a way as to deprive the Korean Government and the Korean people of the natural wealth of their own land, then the plans for every kind of reform will be crippled, if not wholly thwarted. To encourage legitimate business with all nations is for the advantage of both the Japanese and the Korean Governments; such a policy is directly in the line of Marquis Ito’s intentions[356] for the reform and uplifting of the economic condition of the peninsula. No one person would suffer so severely in mind and in reputation as would the Resident-General himself if this policy failed through any fault of his own or of his country’s administration in Korea. But, on the other hand, to check the evil consequences of illegitimate schemes of promotion already accomplished, and to prevent the initiation of such schemes in the future, is an equally necessary part of this policy.

On the whole subject of the attitude of the Japanese Government toward foreign business interests in Korea the following lengthy quotations may be considered as authoritative:

The foreign trade of Korea has been steadily increasing, especially during the past six years. Making due allowance for the increase of imports brought about by the war, the proportion of normal increase gives every sign of healthy growth. Japan’s trade is much the largest. Korean exports go almost exclusively to Japan, except ginseng, which is sent to China. Of the imports from Japan a large proportion are foreign, as Japan is put down in the Customs Returns as the country from which the importation was made, the country of origin not being given. As Japan is the place of transhipment for much of the trade, and as much of it passes through Japanese hands, it would be difficult to differentiate. There are certain important staples, however, concerning which there can be no ambiguity—American kerosene, for example, which practically monopolizes the market. Rails and railway equipment also come from foreign countries, the cars and engines from the United States. As Korea increases in wealth and her purchasing capacity grows correspondingly, there will be a field for other machinery, modern farming implements among the rest, no doubt.

American and European enterprise has not been so conspicuous in the field of ordinary commercial enterprise as in other directions. Concessions of one kind and another have attracted more attention than trade and commerce. The most conspicuous and[357] successful undertaking of this kind is the Oriental Consolidated Mining Company at Unsan in Northern Korea, originally American; now it is generally understood to be largely English in ownership. This was the first mining concession ever granted to foreigners in Korea. His Majesty the Emperor was originally a half owner in the company, but sold out his interest for 300,000 yen and a payment of 25,000 yen per annum. The company’s concession covers a large area, and the capital is $5,000,000, American money. At the outset the enterprise did not look very promising, but by skilful management it grew until it reached its present important proportions.

It would probably be idle to attempt an analysis of the advantages and disadvantages to Korea of enterprises of this kind. Certainly, if there are any advantages, the Unsan concession should be a favorable example. That it has been of great advantage to Korea is at least an open question. On the one side, in its favor, may be set the large amounts annually expended by the company in wages, etc. This is undoubtedly a good thing while it lasts; but gold mines are exhausted sooner or later, and the benefits they confer are only temporary. The abandoned mining sites in America, no matter how prosperous in their day, can hardly be instanced as examples of prosperity for the people of the country in which they are located, who are not owners of successful mines.... Against this, and other like enterprises, may be cited, for one thing, the disadvantage of the wholesale destruction of timber. The country about Unsan has been practically denuded of timber, and in an agricultural country like Korea this is undoubtedly an evil.

This much has been said of the effects of the operations of a successful company, conducted on a conservative basis, merely to show that the advantages of the development of Korean resources about which so much has been said, are not unmixed blessings. The matter is of some importance in the light of all that has been published of late upon the subject.... English and German companies each obtained a mining concession, but neither proved financially successful. Japanese also obtained one concession, in which American capital is at present interested.... The[358] system of granting mining concessions was open to so many objections that foreign representatives frequently importuned the Korean Government to issue mining regulations under which the mineral resources of the country could be systematically developed. Nothing was done, however, until after the establishment of the Residency-General, when a mining law was passed. This law provides for mining under proper safeguards as regards public and private interests. Under the old system, or rather lack of system, the concessionaire could do practically what he pleased within the limits of his concession. Now he must conform to laws and regulations which permit him to carry on his business under conditions which promote the interests and conserve the rights of all concerned.

The business methods which have developed in Korea since intercourse with foreigners began are the natural outgrowth of the circumstances and of the practices prevailing before that time. Reference is not here intended to ordinary commercial transactions, but to that species of business which has its rise in government favors and thrives by government patronage. In a country where the Government is the fountain-head of favors of every description, it was perhaps inevitable that the results should be those which we see in Korea. Viewed from the most favorable standpoint they certainly leave much to be desired. The Government, or, as has really been the actual fact, the Emperor, has been persuaded to enter into a number of business enterprises, both public and private, not a single one of which has been successful and every one of which has been the occasion of loss either to the public treasury or to His Majesty’s privy purse. Undertakings of various kinds—wooden manufactories, glass factories, railways, etc.—have been projected, but have gone no further than the stage of involving the employment of foreign directors, assistants, and the like, and have stopped there. Sometimes foreign experts have been employed who were really capable of conducting the business for which their services were secured. They have come to Korea, only to discover that no preparations have been made to carry on the enterprises with which they were to be connected. In other cases, the persons engaged to oversee the projected[359] enterprises have been notoriously incompetent, and the whole affair has smacked largely of fraud from beginning to end. It would require too much space to recount the various undertakings of a public nature which have been attempted and have ignominiously failed. The result has been monotonously the same in every instance—namely, the payment by the Korean Government of large sums of money for useless material and for services never rendered. Another source of heavy loss has been the contracts made on behalf of the Government for all sorts of things—rice that was never needed, arms and ammunition which were worthless, railroad material which was never delivered, and so on through the long list of wasteful expenditure of the public funds. It is something hardly capable of direct proof, but there is no reasonable doubt that almost every one of these enterprises had its inspiration in the desire for illicit gain by one or another of the officials interested. The explanation of the foreigners interested may be summed up in the phrase, “that is the way business is done in Korea.” The Empire has been the happy hunting-ground for the foreign business man not over-scrupulous as to the methods by which money was to be made. Equally it has held out golden opportunities to the promoter and hunter for “concessions.” This does not include those foreigners who are willing to take the chances of success and the pecuniary risks inseparable from enterprises like mining, for example, but that other class of promoters who desire to get something for nothing, and then sell it to others. The gentlemen who have so much to say about “enlisting foreign capital” in the development of Korea’s resources will generally be found upon investigation to be prepared only to “enlist” some one else’s capital. The promoter has his uses, no doubt, and, as a pioneer in new fields, unquestionably accomplishes good in some cases. Unfortunately, in Korea the results of his activities can hardly be classed in this category.... Especially is this true of those enterprises with which His Majesty has been most prominently identified as an investor. As before said, they have invariably resulted in heavy losses to the privy purse. Various explanations have been given for this, but the fact remains and cannot be disputed. Others have prospered,[360] but so far as His Majesty is concerned, the balance has always been on the debit side of the ledger.

If it were necessary to multiply instances of the injury done to the economic interests of the Korean people, and of the difficulty of adjusting in any half-satisfactory way the claims of foreign promoters and concessionaires, it could easily be done upon good evidence. But mention of a few such instances only—with the suppression of names and details, for obvious reasons—will suffice to convince the reader, however “patriotic” in such matters, who has even the semblance of a candid mind. Prominent among examples is that of a foreign company of contractors, who have obtained from the Korean Government a variety of claims, such as public-utility franchises, and a mining concession. Of the former, one franchise had cost the Privy Purse of the Korean Emperor not less than 600,000 yen up to 1902; and when it was sold to satisfy a mortgage held by these same contractors, although Mr. J. McLeavy Brown, at the time Commissioner-General of Customs, who had been appointed to audit the accounts, recommended that items aggregating 1,100,000 yen should be disallowed, and gave his judgment to the effect that foreclosure would be a grave injustice to His Majesty, the latter was induced to buy one-half of the property at 750,000 yen. The whole of the same property not long before had been offered at 800,000 yen! This public utility still fails to yield a dollar in dividends to the royal investor.

Another franchise of this same company has been sold, without any investment of capital on their part, to an English company for £15,000 cash and £50,000 in fully paid-up ordinary shares. Under the apparent impression that they have even yet not sufficiently profited from the Privy Purse of the Emperor and the national treasury of this poverty-stricken[361] land, the same company is bringing all possible “influence” to bear in order to validate their claims to a “Mining Concession.” With regard to this last claim, which is still contested, it is enough for our purposes to say that it was surreptitiously obtained; that the stipulation which required a capital of $1,000,000 fully paid up at the time of incorporation has been violated; and that the provision which guarantees that no other mining concession should be made to any one, native or foreign, until these concessionaires had made their choice, is plainly contra bonos mores. Moreover, negotiations have been entered into by this company for the sale of this concession to another foreign syndicate.

The mining claim of these foreign promoters, although it has not yet been wholly adjusted is, indeed, a cause célèbre on account of the large sums involved; but it only illustrates a special combination of the elements which are found, with a difference of mixture, in all the cases of this general character. There was the foolish and wanton Emperor, who has little intelligent care for the material or other interests of his people; the crafty and corrupt Koreans, officials and ex-officials; the land rich in unexplored and undeveloped resources, and the “enterprising” foreigner, unscrupulous as to his methods and ready to utilize—either truly or falsely—his alleged “influence” with the officials of his own Government. Another case, in which all the participants were Koreans with the exception of one foreigner, has also been charged to the account of the Japanese Government on the debit side. This foreigner, having put forth the claim to be a mining engineer (he was in truth only a miner—a so-called “three-yen-a-day” man), associated himself with a Korean, popularly known as “Pak the liar,” and through the latter obtained the assistance at Court of a powerful official and his friends. A “company” was formed, which obtained from[362] the Emperor an elaborate document of the “franchise” sort, giving them the exclusive right to find coal-oil where no coal-oil was, to bottle mineral water from springs which have no valuable qualities to their water, and to export coal which was totally unfit for export. Appeals were constantly made, and answered, for funds to further this enterprise, until His Majesty became tired, and the whole affair was wound up. This was done by paying the foreigner 12,000 yen claimed as back pay. He then departed to his native land to complain that the Japanese were inimical to the investment of foreign capital in Korea. The net result was a few thousand tons of coal taken from one small mine—sold, but the proceeds never accounted for; an expenditure from the Privy Purse variously estimated at from 300,000 yen to 400,000 yen; and the enrichment of certain Korean officials and ex-officials. For all this Mr. Megata, the Japanese Financial Adviser, had to provide the money. The “Poong Poo” Company itself never had any money to put into its “promoting” schemes.

That the charge of favoring their own countrymen in the matter of concessions and monopolies, which has been somewhat freely made abroad against the Japanese Government in Korea, is not justifiable, the following proof may be cited. At some time between January 15 and January 29 of 1905, Mr. Yi-chai-kuk, then Minister of the Imperial Household of Korea, recognized and signed no fewer than twenty-three concessions granted to one Yi-Sei-chik, a Korean, and his four Japanese associates. These concessions included the consolidation of taxation on land, the utilization of the water-ways for various purposes, and state monopolies of tobacco, salt, kerosene, etc. Imperial orders were secretly given to the same Yi to raise a foreign loan of several million yen for the purpose of detecting the secrets of the Military Headquarters stationed in Korea, as well as[363] of the Tokyo Government, and to make reports about them.[80]

These iniquitous transactions in which Koreans and Japanese were concerned were made, when discovered, the occasion of a memorandum of protest. This memorandum reminded the Korean Government and Court that they have often been unfaithful to the “general plan of administrative reform,” based upon the compact made between Korea and Japan, by granting to foreigners various important concessions in secret ways. With a view of putting an end to any further recurrence of such complications, an express Agreement was entered into, August, 1904, by which “it was stipulated that, in case of granting concessions to foreigners, or of making contracts with foreigners, the Imperial Governments should first be informed and consulted with.” The memorandum then goes on to express profound regret that “His Majesty and his Court” had attempted by these concessions, “in defiance of this provision, a breach of faith.” Then follows the demand upon the Minister for Foreign Affairs of Korea to take the following steps:—

This memorandum bears date of July 11, 1905. But this instance of the most decisive steps taken by the Japanese[364] Government to prevent its own subjects from profiting by secret and corrupt alliance with Korean officials, for the obtaining of concessions and contracts, is by no means an isolated one. In truth, the Japanese Protectorate is more severe in dealing with such cases where Japanese are concerned, than where other foreigners have the chief interests. And repeatedly has the Resident-General assured his own countrymen that they must expect no favors in business schemes for exploiting Korea to their own advantage, but to the injury of the Koreans themselves. Indeed, he has publicly declared to all such Japanese: “You have me for your enemy.”

More recently effective measures have been enacted and put into force to make impossible the recurrence of the old-time ways of robbing Korea by schemes for “promoting” her business enterprises and by secret ways of obtaining concessions. Among such measures is the safeguarding of the “Imperial black seal” (the Emperor’s private seal), which could formerly be used to plunder the treasury without the knowledge or consent of its legalized guardians, or even of the Emperor himself. Under the new regulations, the black seal cannot be legally used except with the knowledge and attestation of the Minister of the Household and his Imperial Treasurer.

Among the other foreign relations into which Japan has entered, to substitute for Korea, is the protection of Korean emigrants. Although Korea needs, and can for a long time to come support, all its own natural increase of native population, and several millions of foreign immigrants besides, the complete lack of opportunity for “getting ahead” in their native land caused a considerable exodus of her own population some six or seven years ago. At the instance of an American, about 8,000 Korean men and 400 Korean women emigrated to Hawaii. In 1905 a Mexican prevailed[365] upon 1,300 natives to go to Mexico. This experience led the Korean Government, in April, 1905, to issue an order prohibiting the emigration of Korean laborers. Under the Japanese Protectorate, however, in July, 1906, “An Emigrant Protection Law,” with detailed rules for its operation, was enacted, which came into force on the 15th of September of the same year.

With regard to all foreign relations with Korea, whether of legitimate business, of commerce, or of emigration, the civilized world is undoubtedly much better off now that their custody is in the hands of the Japanese Residency-General. In our judgment the same thing is true of those moral and religious interests represented by the missionary bodies already established, or to be established in the future, in the Korean peninsula. This is not, indeed, the opinion of all the missionaries themselves. As regards the whole subject of the effect of the Protectorate upon mission work—past, present, and future—there is a difference of opinion among the missionaries themselves. As to the attitude of Marquis Ito there can be no reasonable doubt. His expressions of feeling and intention have been frequently mentioned in the earlier chapters of this book. The missionary problem will be discussed, apart, in a later chapter.

As to the general feeling of the Koreans themselves toward foreigners, the following quotations are believed to express the truth:

Among the many embarrassments encountered by Marquis Ito as Japanese Resident-General in his efforts to reform and elevate Korea, there is perhaps no one more persistent and hard to overcome than the charges of fraud and violence made against his own countrymen. These charges come from various sources and are promulgated in a variety of ways. Sometimes they take the form of a book—as, for example, Mr. Hulbert’s “Passing of Korea.” For months the Korean Daily News, under the editorship of Mr. Bethell, in both its native and its English editions, filled its daily columns with complaints, wearisomely reiterated after they had been repeatedly disproved, or made anew on insufficient grounds and even without any trustworthy evidence whatever. In scarcely less degree, the same thing has been true of certain English papers printed outside of Korea, especially in China. More effective still in producing an impression abroad, but not more trustworthy, have been the published letters of many travellers and newspaper correspondents. Conspicuous among the latter class was the letter of Mr. William T. Ellis to the New York Tri-Weekly Tribune, in which it was stated that, under the then existing Japanese Government, “robbery, abuse, oppression, injustice, and even murder are the lot of the Korean common people.”[81][368] Most deplorable[82] of all are the hasty and inconsiderate charges believed on exaggerated or wholly false accounts of the Koreans themselves, and propagated by the relatively small body of missionaries who have remained—for reasons to be considered subsequently—in an attitude of open or secret hostility to the Japanese Protectorate.

The charges against the Japanese of violence and fraud in Korea may be divided into four classes: those which are important and true; those which are trivial and only partly true; those which are exaggerated; and those which are wholly false. Of the first kind there are a few only; of the second there are many; of the third there are even a greater number; and of the fourth there are not a few. In judging the conduct of the Japanese Government and its officials of all ranks and classes, as distinguished from the conduct of adventurous and unscrupulous individual Japanese, the material and social condition of affairs in the peninsula during and immediately after the Russo-Japanese war cannot fairly be left out of the account. One complaint brought by its most unsympathetic critics against the Government is that it did not foresee the influx of undesirable characters into Korea during the war and make sufficient provision for their control. But precisely the opposite of this complaint is true. The military and other coolies and camp-followers had given much trouble and embarrassment to the Japanese officials in the war with China. Accordingly, the military authorities determined at the beginning of the war with Russia to avoid such complications by composing the military train wholly of enlisted men. Thus many recruits—students, professional men, and tradesmen—who did not come up to the standard set for the soldier, or who were not ready for service[369] in the ranks, served as cart-pullers, burden-bearers, and in other laborious and humble ways. The conduct of the army, and of the enlisted men generally, in Korea and Manchuria, was so admirable as to call out the quite unexampled approval of all candid observers. Looting was almost absolutely prevented; the extremely rare cases of rape were punished with death as soon as the offence was proved; violence or insult toward all non-combatants was of rare occurrence; and the treatment of the Russian prisoners of war evoked the gratitude of the prisoners themselves. In all these respects, the difference between the Japanese and the Chinese and Russians was indeed remarkable.

At the beginning of the war the Tokyo government, perceiving that the civil authorities in Korea were already overburdened with labors consequent upon the great influx of Japanese—many of them belonging to the lower classes—proposed a bill to establish new courts and an increased force of police. In the pressure of important business connected with the life-or-death struggle in which Japan was then engaged, the bill did not pass. A Police Adviser to the Korean Government was, however, appointed. What must have been the complete incompetency of the Korean magistrates and police at such a time of confusion may be faintly imagined by one who—like the author—has seen how ineffectively they still discharged their functions, for the protection of their own officials and for the maintenance of order in the country, at the time of his visit in the spring of 1907. It would have been strange, then, if anything approaching an even-handed justice through the courts, or a complete condition of order by fear of the police, could have been secured in Korea in 1904 and 1905. No such justice or order has ever existed in this land of misrule. Japan secured it during the occupation of war, so far as its own enlisted men were concerned; but its rights as “Protector”[370] were not fully gained and defined until after the close of the war.

Among the most serious of the charges which are important and, in certain instances, true, is that made against the military authorities for the appropriation of lands for military and railway uses, to an unreasonable extent, and in unfair ways. “There can be no question,” says Mr. D. W. Stevens, “that at the outset the military authorities in Korea did intimate an intention of taking more land for these uses than seemed reasonable. They proceeded upon the principle that the Korean Government had bound itself to grant all land necessary for railway and military uses, and itself to indemnify the owners—an assumption which was technically correct. But the owners, knowing the custom of their own government under such circumstances, were hopeless of obtaining anything like adequate redress. This, it should be remembered, happened during the war, when martial law was in the ascendant.” When peace came, other counsels prevailed; the intention to appropriate additional large tracts was abandoned; and the amount staked off for military purposes was greatly reduced—was, indeed, in several instances, made only a fraction of the original amount. For all the domain granted or appropriated by the Korean Government there has already accrued to the country, in transportation facilities and other economic and political advantages, far more than its actual value at the time of its granting or appropriation. For the private land owned by Koreans a fair price was paid in the majority of cases. The prohibition of the owners within the delimited areas to sell their lands and houses was designed to prevent prior purchase by speculators and other indirect attempts to obtain extravagant prices. The military authorities, under the pressure of what they regarded as necessity, solved these difficulties in the military way—a way that certainly does not commend[371] itself to civilians in times of peace, but which has been employed too often by all the other civilized nations to enable them to cast stones freely at the Japanese. Even by these high-handed measures they could not avoid, in certain cases, paying much more for land owned by foreigners than it was really worth.[83]

It must further be confessed that a considerable number of Japanese sharpers—for the most part usurious money-lenders—have obtained land from Koreans in unjust and oppressive ways. This species of robbery is made the more difficult to detect and punish for the following reasons: The Korean customs and laws concerning the transference of titles to land are inadequate and confusing (for this reason, some of the landed property belonging to other foreigners than the Japanese, and even to the missionary bodies, would have no little difficulty in establishing title); the Koreans are given to issuing false and forged deeds, or in their ignorance claiming title and conferring title where no such right exists; finally, in numerous instances, both Korean or foreign “squatters” (see p. 295 f.) and the government or some of its officials are asserting, either honestly or fraudulently, their holding of good title to the same piece of land. On all this class of offences we may trust implicitly the statement of the foreign official (an American) whose duty has led him to examine into a large number of these cases: “The theft of[372] land by eviction, false deeds, etc.,” says this authority, “is another offence upon which great stress has been laid. Undoubtedly there were a number of cases of this kind, although here again exaggeration has been at work. The commonest instances were those where money-lenders were concerned; and, in these cases, as in almost all others of the kind, Koreans were associated in some way or other with the frauds which were perpetrated. A spendthrift son or nephew would give false title-deeds, or even pawn the genuine ones without authority; a Korean rascal would conspire with a Japanese of the same kidney to defraud other Koreans, and so on through the long gamut of fraud wherein Korean connivance was an indispensable prerequisite to success. The offences relating to land have now been rendered practically impossible through the promulgation of land regulations by the Residency-General.”

In a word, offences of this kind committed by the Japanese against the Koreans, however numerous and grievous they may have been, have proved short-lived; they were formerly due to the disturbed conditions of a period of war, and will now speedily be brought to an end. Summing them all up, and even without making allowance for exaggerations, the cry of the Koreans against the Japanese on the charge of fraud and oppression touching their land is only as a drop to a good-sized bucket compared with the cry of the Irish against the English, or of the Koreans themselves against their own countrymen. The wrongs are small indeed as compared with those which have characterized the behavior of Americans against Americans in our own West.[84]

Of brutal and murderous assaults from Japanese upon Korean men and women there are indeed instances; but the cases prove on examination to have been by no means frequent. They have been, on the whole, fewer than such crimes are accustomed to be between peoples of two nations similarly placed. Indeed, they have been fewer than those occurring to-day between different classes and different nationals in many of the civilized countries of the Western World. They bear no comparison to the horrors which have for centuries been familiar in most of the Orient, including Korea itself. “Wholesale military executions,” for example, of the Koreans who tore up the track of the military railroad have been charged against the Japanese as virtually murders. But during the entire war there was never a single instance of what is known as “drum-head court martial” of a Korean for such an offence. After the trial the evidence in each case was transmitted to the Headquarters at Seoul, where the case was confirmed, modified, or reversed. The Japanese military authorities consented to have a Korean official present at each trial as an amicus curiæ of the defendant; but the Korean Government declined to be represented and claimed that all such cases should be tried before their own officials only. What would have been the outcome of such a committal of the most vital military interests of Japan to Korean magistrates it needs no great amount of experience to judge. A Korean, for example, who had been arrested by a Japanese gendarme and taken before a native magistrate was duly punished for “throwing a stone at the railway!” But on his being rearrested and tried before a military court it was established that the man had been repeatedly convicted of piling stones upon the track with a view to wreck the trains conveying the Japanese soldiers; whereupon the sentence of the military court was confirmed from Headquarters and the man was quite properly executed.

Of the killing of Koreans, unprovoked and without the excuse of self-defence, by Japanese, there have been at no time any considerable number of cases. Indeed, the murders of men and women of the other nationality, while in the quiet discharge of their official duty or in their homes, have been far more numerous. This was especially true while the country was stirred to riot and bloodshed by the abdication of the Emperor in July, 1907, and by the disbandment of the Korean army, when mistaken or feigned “patriotism” was showing itself in the customary Korean way. But that there is nothing new about all this, a reference to chapters which have sketched (IX and X) the history of the relations of the countries in the past centuries will abundantly show.

Of serious and unprovoked assaults of Koreans by Japanese there have been, doubtless, a considerable number. It would be impossible to tell just how many, even as a result of the most patient and candid investigation;—if for no other reason, because the Korean habit of exaggeration and lying renders almost all the uncorroborated testimony of the natives untrustworthy. This experience with official lying to cover their own countrymen against the demands of foreigners for justice, or to enforce indemnity in cases of false charges made against foreigners for assault on Koreans, is not confined to the Japanese. It is the common experience with all Korean judicial procedure.[85]

Among the more serious unproved charges against Japanese[375] officials was that of torturing Korean prisoners by Japanese gendarmes at the time of the so-called “cleansing” of the Palace. Mr. Hulbert published this charge and specified, on the authority of “numerous witnesses,” the exact character of the torture—namely, by a kind of iron instrument designed to squeeze the head. Immediately Marquis Ito took up the matter and sent a messenger to Mr. Hulbert to express his earnest desire to probe the matter thoroughly; and his intention, in case the charge was proved, to punish the offenders severely. This request implied, as a matter of course, the pledge of protection to the witnesses; and Mr. Hulbert agreed to furnish the evidence. But when this could not be done, the excuse was first offered that the witnesses were afraid to come forward; and next, the “numerous witnesses” resolved themselves into one person, who had “gone into the country.” When still further pressed to furnish the promised evidence, the story of the iron head-rack was altogether abandoned, and for it was substituted the charge that a certain eunuch had been arrested and beaten by the police. But this, if it occurred, is only according to the Korean custom of judicial procedure, still to be allowed, after the torture of criminals had been legally abolished under Japanese influence. Nevertheless, this confessedly false charge was afterward included in a pamphlet by the same authority as another instance of Japanese outrages in Korea.[86]

Of rudeness and petty assaults the Koreans have, no doubt, had much to endure at the hands of the coolies and other low-class Japanese. But not so much as the Burmese and East Indians have had to endure from the British soldier and petty official in their own home land; or the Chinese and Japanese on the Pacific Coast of the United States; and, probably, not more than the Japanese themselves during the earlier days of the entrance of foreigners into Japan. While the atrocious treatment of the natives by the Belgians in Africa, by the French in Madagascar, by the Russians in many parts of Asia, is as midnight darkness to twilight or full dawn when compared with anything done to Koreans of late years by the Japanese.

In order to understand, but not to excuse, this harsh and bullying attitude of the foreigner toward the native, two things need to be borne in mind. The first is this: Korea has never been a land where the common people have been treated with any decency, not to say respect. In the old days—the days to change which the Japanese Government is planning and doing more than any other human agency—the attendants of officials beat every commoner who came within their reach; this was as a matter of course; it was an evidence, not much resented by the people, of the superiority of their master. Lieutenant Foulk describes how, when he was travelling in the country, his chair coolies on approaching an inn would accelerate their pace and, rushing into the yard at the top of their speed, would begin to belabor every one in sight. “In 1885,” says Mr. Stevens, “I was riding through the streets of Seoul on official business. Among my attendants were several policemen armed with the many-thonged whips carried in those days. The policemen slashed with these at the curious who pressed around the chair, regardless of where the blows fell. One old woman, lashed in the face until the blood came, still pressed forward when the[377] policeman had passed, eager to see the foreigner close at hand, and apparently regarding the blows as a matter of course.” To-day such cruelty is in no respect rare among the “amiable Koreans.” Indeed, without something of this kind, it is difficult in the country for the traveller, whether native or foreigner, to get anything done. “During the first two days,” says Mr. Henry Norman,[87] “I was greatly annoyed by my mapous, whom I could not get along at all. At the midday halt they would lie about for a couple of hours, and in the morning it was two or three hours after I was up before I could get them to start. On the third morning I lost my temper, and going into their room, I kicked them one after the other into the yard. This was evidently what they expected, for they set to work immediately. Unless they were kicked they could not believe the hurry was real. Afterward, by a similar procedure, I started whenever I wished.” Again, Mr. Angus Hamilton, after bringing a railing accusation against the Japanese for their bullying methods with the Koreans, recommends that the Korean interpreter “be flogged” if he suggests the employment of too many servants, asserts that “an occasional kick” is helpful to convert the Korean into a “willing if unintelligent servant,” and closes his book with the frank narrative of his falling into a blind rage and taking vengeance right and left because of his disappointment over the defeat of a scheme for an exploring and sporting trip to the northern part of the peninsula.[88]

The second consideration to which reference was made brings out the more humorous side of the picture. In Korea[378] it makes a great difference, not only whose ox is gored, but who gores the ox. Small favors of the kind which are received uncomplainingly—almost gratefully—from their own officials, and even from other friends, are by no means just now received in the same way from the Japanese. Of this fact Dr. Gale gives an admirable description: it is that of a Korean lounging along in the middle of the road and smoking the pipe of contemplative abstraction—a habit indulged in by almost all Koreans in the most inconvenient places. A Japanese jinrikisha-man pushes him rudely to one side, and not being at all firm upon his legs, he goes sprawling on the ground (comp. p. 172 f.). Eyes raised to heaven, he calls upon the skies to fall; for the end of all things has come. “But,” says the passing stranger, “a missionary pushed you out of the way yesterday; another foreigner beat you the day before; your own people have always kicked and cuffed you.” “Yes, yes, but a Japanese! Only think of it—a Japanese!”

Among the partially true, but greatly exaggerated, charges of petty oppression and injustice must be classed the claim that the labor on the Japanese military railway was enforced by personal cruelties and paid for at unfair prices. Again, it must be remembered that the prompt conclusion of this work was a military necessity of the first importance. In the rush and confusion which accompanied its execution, it would have been strange if there had not been cases of harsh treatment of laborers by the Japanese sub-contractors. Where an appeal, accompanied by trustworthy evidence, was taken to the higher authorities, it was possible to obtain redress in almost every instance. But there was another class of cases where it was almost impossible to secure anything like decent reparation; these were chiefly under the management of the Koreans themselves. Concerning such cases, the statement of an authority, made on grounds of personal knowledge, is quoted below:

The reputation of the Japanese—army, civil government, and the people generally—has suffered more from the long-standing and the more recent relations between Japan and Korea than is customary elsewhere under similar circumstances. This is due partly to inexperience and over self-confidence on their own part; but also in larger measure to the untrustworthy and corrupt witness of the Korean officials and to the ignorance and credulity of the Korean people; most of all, however, to the prejudiced or malignant, untrue reports of certain foreigners. During the occupation and transit of the Japanese army in the late war, the charges of cruelty and injustice on its part were not confined to the construction and service of the military railway. While the commissary department was paying to the Korean contractors the full market price for provisions and other supplies, the contractors were compelling the Korean people to[381] furnish the supplies, either without pay or at greatly reduced rates. From time immemorial, the people of Korea have been accustomed to have their rice, chickens, ponies, and service, levied upon by their own officials; in the present case they, as a matter of course, attributed the same manner of getting what you want by taking what you see, to the Japanese.[89]

Ignorance of the Korean language and customs is another fruitful source of bad repute for the Japanese. Even now, in the city of Seoul, the Japanese who blunders into the women’s quarters, or even into their too near vicinity, in the discharge of his duty to collect a bill, to make an inspection or a report of some official character, or to inquire his way, is liable to be charged with an intent to commit rape or some other form of assault. The Japanese collector of taxes, or customs, or the Japanese policeman who protects the obnoxious Korean official, or even the “unpatriotic” Cabinet Minister, is a particular object of Korean falsehood and hatred. But all these complaints, although they have been made much of by the anti-Japanese “friends” of Korea, and in spite of the undoubted fact that they greatly increase the feeling of bitterness between the two peoples and interfere with the benevolent plans of the Resident-General, are in themselves comparatively trivial.

Wholly false charges of oppression and fraud of a much more important character have been made against the Japanese Government in Korea, either in ignorance or with malignity, and have industriously been spread abroad by the subsidized or the deceived “foreign friends” of the Korean Court. One of the most notable of such charges concerned[382] the so-called “fisheries company.” Its history is briefly this. Certain Koreans came to a “missionary friend” complaining that the Resident-General had peremptorily dissolved a Korean company which had a legal concession to develop the fisheries industry, thus involving the shareholders in heavy losses. The presumption was that the unjust act was intended to further in the future the Japanese interest in this same industry. But the truth was that the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry had in the Fall of 1906, at the solicitation of a “Korean, notorious for previous participation in malodorous schemes,” secretly granted to a native company a monopoly of all the fishing rights upon the entire Korean coasts, except the whale fisheries. In addition to this, this same company was given the exclusive right of control over all the fish markets in the Empire, so that no fish could be sold except at places designated by it and upon payment to it of such sums as it might choose to exact. When, however, sufficient funds were not speedily available from Korean subscribers to float this monstrous and totally illegal monopoly, a Japanese visiting capitalist was approached by the Korean promoter and asked to buy a half-share of the enterprise. His mention of the investment offered to him gave to the Residency-General its first knowledge of the scheme. The Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry was immediately informed that such a concession was in plain violation of treaty rights and highly prejudicial to Korean private and public interests. The Minister was also warned that the concession should be cancelled; he promised to do this, and it was supposed that he had kept his word. But either through cowardice or connivance at corruption, the promise was not fulfilled. Months later, therefore, the Chief of the Commercial Department of the Residency-General, Mr. Kiuchi, while making a tour of inspection in Southeastern Korea, received a petition from[383] the fishermen of the district, complaining that this same company was levying taxes upon them and forbidding those who did not pay the taxes to continue their fishing. The complete dissolution of this illegal monopoly was saved from being the object of popular resentment only by the fact that its promoters had been ready to share their plunder with a Japanese![90]

Another instance which illustrates, however, the habitual exaggeration and ignorant credulity of the Koreans rather than their well-known official capacity for fraud, is connected with the establishment of the royal “stud-farm” near Pyeng-yang. In this case two native pastors from this city, as members of a deputation to petition the redress of a great wrong, came to a missionary friend in Seoul in great distress. Their story was that the Korean officials of the Household Department, in complicity with the Japanese officials, had enclosed in stakes a territory having a population of fifty thousand people and comprising a vast quantity of arable land. Within this large area, no one could sell the land, or cut timber or grass, or plant crops, or bury the dead; or, in brief, put the land to any of its ordinary uses. These official prohibitions were said to have been inscribed upon the stakes—although the petitioners, on being questioned, could not tell upon just how many of them. At Seoul, neither the Korean nor the Japanese officials knew of any such project in connection with the proposed stud-farm; although it was true that such a farm was to be established, under the joint patronage of their Majesties, the Emperors of Japan and Korea. Communication with Marquis Ito, who was then in Tokyo, brought a reassuring telegram from him. Investigation showed that no notice of the kind had been put upon any of the stakes which had been erected to show that all[384] the government lands within the area delimited were reserved for the uses of the farm. Nor did the placing of the stakes put any restrictions whatever upon the people, so far as concerned their own property. The one stake on which the mysterious notice did appear had been driven some time previous to the very existence of the scheme for a royal farm; and it had reference to a totally different piece of Imperial property which it had been designed to guard against encroachments from both Koreans and Japanese dwelling in Pyeng-yang. All this excitement could have been avoided if the Korean officials had done their duty by way of informing and instructing the people. But the simple truth is that many of them and of the “foreign friends” of Korea do not wish to avoid any popular excitement which will contribute to the embarrassment and discredit of the Japanese Government in Korea. The rather do they welcome all such excitement.

The truth of this last remark is amply illustrated by the treatment given to the “Pagoda Incident”—one of the “flagrant wrongs” done to Korea by the Japanese which was on the carpet during our entire stay of two months in the land. Viscount Tanaka, who is described as “an ardent virtuoso and collector,” while visiting in Seoul was approached by a Japanese curio dealer with the suggestion that he might add to his collection the ancient but neglected pagoda then situated near Song-do. Mention of the matter was made to the Korean Ministers of the Interior and of the Household, and their approval obtained; and through them the sanction of the Emperor was gained for its removal, as a present to his distinguished guest. The actual work of the removal was committed to the dealer who made the unfortunate suggestion, and who executed his job “with his characteristic skill and audacity.” Previous to its removal this relic of former grandeur had for a long time been wholly[385] neglected by the Korean Government and was, in fact, in process of destruction by the Korean people, who were in the habit of removing bits from it to use as medicine. At once, however, a storm of indignant protest broke out; not, indeed, among the Koreans left to themselves so much as on the part of the “foreign friends” of Korea in their English papers and foreign correspondence. The Viscount was called by terms applicable to a common thief; the “robbery of the Pagoda,” the “rape of the Pagoda,” the plunder of this “precious religious relic” of Korea’s former grandeur, was deplored and abjurgated in the most extravagant terms. The Emperor doubtless chuckled; for while he cared little for the Pagoda, he cared much for the discredit which the taking away of it brought upon the Japanese. The unwise act was virtually disowned by the Residency-General (Marquis Ito was absent in Japan at the time of its removal), and was severely criticised by the Japanese themselves; with the departure of Mr. Hulbert for Russia the excitement over this act of oppression gave way to more important political affairs.

Most ludicrous and pathetic—but highly characteristic—of all these popular excitements was, perhaps, that which arose through the mere proposal of a subject of debate by a Japanese student in Waseda University, Japan: Whether the Korean Emperor should not be made a noble of Japan? (Thus implying, of course, his descent from his Imperial dignity and the virtual annexation of Korea.) The proposal was indeed never adopted, and the debate never took place. But the intolerable insult to the Korean students at the same university, and to the whole nation of Korea—although the authorities of Waseda at once rebuked the unfortunate student—was dwelt upon, and exaggerated, and rubbed into the inflamed and sensitive skins of the people, with all the vigor which the Korean patriots and their “foreign friends” could command. And when some obscure but self-conceited[386] Japanese official, in Japan and not at all in Korea, published a brochure giving fully two-score and more reasons why Japan should promptly annex Korea, these same patriots and their friends made all the use in their power of this insignificant document to stir up sedition and murderous revolt. It was the issue of it as a forgery bearing the official authorization of the Japanese Government, which caused the excitement in Pyeng-yang—the story of which has already been told (see p. 104 f.).[91]

It is not necessary, however, to multiply instances under any of these heads. All classes of wrongs done the Koreans by the Japanese—important and trivial, real, exaggerated, or falsely claimed—are fast diminishing and are destined in time to be reduced to a minimum. The Korean Central Government is now more genuine, more intelligent, and more efficient—as distinguished from the mere wilfulness of the ex-Emperor—than it has ever been before. The reforms possible under the Convention of July, 1907, will afford a judiciary system and judicial procedure hitherto impossible as respects the administration of justice. The control of the local magistrate and of the policing of city and country will contribute[387] something quite new in the way of the blessings of peace and prosperity to the common people. The reforms in the public finance and in taxation will stimulate trade and commerce; the industrial and common-school education will bring about an economic redemption. And if the teachers of morals and religion, both native and foreign, behave with a reasonable wisdom and self-control in the future, and with the same devotion and enthusiasm which they have displayed in the recent years, wrongs will be righted; justice will be done; enlightenment will be spread abroad; and the Korea of the near future will be a quite different nation from the Korea of the long-continued, disgraceful, and distressful past.

Among the many vexatious problems occasioned in modern times by the increased intercourse of Western nations with the Orient, those which arise in connection with the advent and development of Christian missions are of no small importance. In general, in this quarter of the world the diplomats and business men are upon one side of most of the controverted questions; the missionaries and their supporters upon the other. It is inevitable, and not necessarily discreditable to either party, that differences of opinion should exist between these two classes as to the best practical answer to some of these questions. Those few of the former class, who are sincerely and unselfishly interested in moral and spiritual things, and in the higher welfare of the world, and the scarcely greater number of the latter class who have the spirit of knightly gentlemen, a thorough culture, and are also of a wise and broad mind, can usually approach very closely to a sympathetic understanding of each other, if not toward active co-operation. If, however, the diplomat or business man, as is so frequently the case, does not like to see the cause of religion advancing, because of the sure instinct that its success will limit, or stop, many a nefarious or morally doubtful practice, then, of course, the support of all who care for the higher values must be given to the side of the missionaries. On the other hand, if the narrow prejudice, fanaticism, or intellectual and ethical weakness of the teacher of foreign religion are seriously interfering with the legitimate[389] practices of diplomacy or commerce, our sympathies can scarcely fail to turn in the other direction. Especially is this true where such interference tends to produce disturbance of the public order and to check genuine political and economic reform. Yet in the one case, we cannot forget the injunction of the Founder of Christianity to his disciples: “Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves”; or the rebuke implied in the declaration: “The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light.” In the other case, we have ringing in our ears the declaration which so many centuries of history have confirmed: “Think not that I came to send peace on the earth; I came not to send peace but a sword.”

In most cases of prolonged controversy over the conduct of the missionary and the character of his work, there is more or less of misunderstanding and of faulty behavior on both sides. For missionaries are but men; and like men of all other trades, businesses, professions, or callings, they have their peculiar temptations, their liability to peculiar mistakes, and—to use the theological term—their besetting sins. The past and present relations of Christian missions to the Government and people of Korea will be the better understood if we consider briefly what some of these temptations are. One of the most potent, if not important, is the temptation to make a good showing in the matter of statistics. That the workman on the field should rejoice in a bountiful harvest is not, in itself, a matter for surprise or rebuke; just the contrary is true. Nor is it necessarily prejudicial to the real good of the cause, if the home officers and supporters of the foreign denominational enterprise implicitly seem to require, as a prerequisite to their continued zeal and generous subscriptions, a fair annual showing as to the increase in the number of converts. But especially in Korea at the present time, it is quality and not numbers that ought chiefly to be[390] allowed to count. And yet it is numbers and not quality which is most reasonably to be expected and most likely to be found, for two or three generations to come.

The paradox involved in the last sentences requires further explanation. In her interesting but highly colored and by no means altogether trustworthy book on Korea, Mrs. Bishop makes the following declarations: “The idea of a nation destitute of a religion and gladly accepting one brought by a foreigner, must be dropped. The religion the Korean would accept is one which would show him how to get money without working for it. The indifference is extreme; the religious faculty is absent; there are no religious ideas to appeal to, and the moral teachings of Confucius have little influence with any class.”[92] Of these declarations the last is the only one which is wholly true. Moral teachings of any kind have had little effect hitherto in Korea. Briefly stated, and as seen from the point of view afforded through a survey of the history of man’s religious experience and of the progress of Christian missionary enterprise, the condition of the Korean people is this. They are a nation by no means indifferent to religion, or destitute of religious faculty and religious ideas. But the religion almost universally prevalent has been for centuries a low form of spiritism—largely, devil-worship. Even Korean ancestor-worship, unlike that in Japan, is still almost exclusively motived and characterized by superstitious and degrading fears rather than by the spirit of reverence, loyalty, and affection. Among the so-called civilized nations of the world there is probably not another where the prevalent native religion is of a more depressing and degrading character than in Korea.

Now it is an experience very easy to explain from the psychological point of view that where the other elements of “uplift” begin to work powerfully among a people of a low[391] form of religion, any imported religious faith and worship which seems to offer help to, or to be in conformity with, this work, may speedily secure the adherence of great multitudes of the people. In Korea, for example, there is absolutely no religion to compete with an imported Christianity. There is no developed Confucianism as there is in China; no reformed or reflectively elaborated Buddhism, as there is in Japan; no refined religious philosophy and complicated caste system as there is in India. Any kind of ferment in the ancient but deplorably sad and oppressive conditions of the popular life will inevitably, therefore, prove favorable to the rapid spread of a modern and improved form of religion. For the people must have some religion; and in Korea, what is there to rival, for what it promises and performs, the religion of the American and English missionaries? It is this kind of nation which, so far as statistics that can boast millions of converts are concerned, may under favorable conditions be “born in a day.” At the same time, however, it is this kind of nation whose multitude of converts will almost surely fail to apprehend or to appreciate the really important things about the new faith which they hasten to profess. It is this kind of nation that most needs, through three or more generations, the solid work of education, and the purifying process of severe discipline, in order to secure the genuine spirit and true practice of the religion of Christ. Education and prolonged moral discipline are imperative for the establishment of a trustworthy Christian population in Korea. Here the necessity for careful sifting and severe pruning is exaggerated beyond most precedents, because of the undoubted fact that the underlying motives for a first adherence to Christianity are, in a large percentage of the so-called converts, economic and political rather than moral and spiritual. And, indeed, how can the Korean common people, with their low intellectual, material, and moral ideals, rise en[392] masse from the condition of superstitious and immoral devil-worshippers to the faith and practice of a pure Christianity? The most fundamental conceptions of God, of Christian duty and Christian character, of the spiritual life, and of the Divine relations to man, are as yet almost totally lacking. If the number of recent converts in Korea furnishes just cause for hope and rejoicing, the character of these converts and of their environment gives also cause for foreboding.

Closely connected with this temptation is another which is less obvious and therefore more subtle and dangerous. It is the temptation to a wrong which has done more by far than all the heresies to disgrace and damage the Christian Church during the centuries of its history. This is the temptation, even unconsciously, to make use for one’s self, or for one’s converts, of the “double ethical standard.” Neither in Korea nor elsewhere can the missionary permit himself to be betrayed into words and conduct which he would consider unworthy of a “heathen” gentleman; or allow his disciples, without rebuke and discipline, in the practice of the very vices for which he despises the Japanese or Chinese coolie or tradesman. There are no two standards of morality—one for the American or English teacher of religion and another for the Korean or Japanese official; one for the priest and another for the layman; one for the Korean confessor and another for the foreign oppressor. It is true that for a long time to come great discretion and much leniency must be shown toward the Korean convert who continues in the beliefs, or who relapses into the practices, of the low-grade spiritism out of which he emerged when he became a Christian adherent. It is not impossible, however, that there has been up to the present time too much of praise and too little of rebuke and instruction meted out to the “adherents” of Christianity in Korea. Indulgence in the vices of lying, dishonesty, intrigue, avarice, impurity, and race-hatred, cannot[393] be condoned by a display of amiability. Flagrant cases of sexual misdemeanors have, indeed, in comparatively few cases been made subjects for the severer discipline. But the prophetic voice, raised unmistakably in evidence of the high standard of morality characteristic of “the religion of Christ” is required under all such circumstances as those which prevail among the Korean Christians—thousands of whom, during the religious awakening of the winter of 1906 and 1907, confessed to having lived for years in the habitual practice of the vices enumerated above.

All of this, and even more of similar experiences connected with the planting and growth of Christian missions in Korean soil, is by no means necessarily discreditable to the missionaries themselves. On the contrary, much of it is inevitable; it is the same thing which has been the accompaniment of the early stages of Christian propagandism in all ages, when conducted in the midst of similar conditions. So-called “conversions” may be rapid; the process of selection and the labor of instruction and edifying follow more slowly, in due time. The lower the existing religious condition of the multitude, when the higher form of religion appeals to them, the more prompt and extensive is the religious uplift of this multitude; but the larger the number of the converts, the more need of discretion and diligence for the process of improving their quality. It is a reasonable hope that the same workmen who have in the main proved so successful in the one form of Christian work will prove equally successful in the somewhat different work which the future development of Christian institutions in Korea imposes upon them.

There is another form of temptation against which it is much easier for the religious propagandist to guard, but which has been rather unusually strong and pervasive in the recent history of Korean missions. This is the temptation to under-estimate, or even despise, the auxiliaries which[394] are offered by an improved condition of the material, legal, and educational facilities to the more definitively religious uplift of the people. The missionary can contribute the share of religion to progress and reform; and he can make that a large share. But it is safe and wise for him not to under-estimate or despise the support of the civil arm. Korea is to-day, as has been already shown in detail, a land unblessed by any of the institutions of a prosperous and equitable civil government of the modern Christian type, established and fostered by its own ruling classes. The multitude of its people are even more than its rulers incapable of taking the initiative in founding such institutions. The dawning of the very idea of good government has scarcely as yet risen upon them.

Early Christianity was propagated in the Roman world largely by making available for its uses the means furnished by the Roman Empire. And the early Christians were expressly enjoined to welcome all the support offered from, and to offer their support to, whatever was good and helpful in the existing civil government. It is then a conceit which is unwarranted by the history of the Christian church that makes the missionary think, by “preaching the Gospel” to effect all which is necessary toward reforming a nation in the condition of Korea at the present time. Moreover, the claim that it was Christianity—especially in the form of a so-called preaching of the Gospel—which, unaided by other historical and moral forces, gave to the Western world its “democratic” advantages, is no longer tenable. The experience with Coptic Christianity in Egypt, with Armenian Christianity in Western Asia, with the Greek Church in Holy Russia, and with Roman Catholicism in Spain and South America (not to mention other notable examples) contradicts this claim. In Korea itself it is not the Christian Missionary who is building railways, making harbors, planting[395] lighthouses, devising a legal code, introducing a sound currency, and attempting the task of reforming the finances, the judiciary, the police, and the local magistracy. Even granted that he is setting at work moral and spiritual forces which will ultimately bring to pass all these public benefits, it would take five hundred years for Korea without foreign assistance from other forms of civilizing energy, to secure these benefits. It is with no intention to depreciate the work of missions in Korea that attention is called to this obvious fact; its workmen had very unusual opportunities to assist in improving the moral character of the Emperor, the late Queen, the Court, and the other officials; and yet they signally failed in this regard. Nor could they, unaided by the civil arm of foreign powers, accomplish much toward relieving the miserable and oppressed and immoral conditions of living prevalent among the common people of Korea. Just here, however—that is, in the sphere of moral and spiritual influence upon personal character, whether of prince or peasant—is where the influence of religion ought to show itself supreme. The “purification” of Korea required, and still requires, the firm, strong hand of the civil power. We cannot, then, credit any such sentiment as that expressed in the following statement:[93] “The influence of Christianity, so largely and rapidly increasing in the country, holds out a better prospect of spontaneous reform than the outside, violent interference of a money-grabbing and hated heathen enemy.” In answer to every such expression of sentiment, the protestation of the Resident-General has been perfectly clear; and as fast and as far as his influence could make itself felt, the conduct of affairs has[396] confirmed the protestation: “It is Japan’s honest and sincere purpose to make of the Koreans a self-reliant and respectable people. Let there be an end, then, to the malign and mischief-making efforts to alienate the Koreans from those who to-day are through the sure work of History charged with responsibility for this nation.”[94]

It would seem, then, that prompt, open, and hearty co-operation with all the efforts, of every kind, made by the Japanese Protectorate to lift up the Korean people is the only truly wise and Christian policy on the part of the missions in Korea.[95]

How far the Korean missionaries have yielded to these and other temptations and have behaved unwisely toward the Japanese Government and before their Korean converts, it is not our purpose to discuss in detail. And yet we cannot avoid all reference to this delicate and unwelcome theme. Wholesale charges of political intrigue and other unbecoming conduct directed against the Residency-General have been met by emphatic and equally wholesale denials—especially during the troubled times of 1906 and 1907. The charges, on the one hand, have been made not simply by an irresponsible Japanese press, but by several of the more reputable and generally trustworthy of its papers. On the other hand, all similar charges are met by Bishop M. C. Harris[96][397] with the assurance “because of full knowledge of the situation in Korea covering the space of three years,” “that no American missionary has been identified with political movements,” ... but that “in all the far-reaching plans of the Residency-General to promote the welfare of Korea and Japan as well, the missionaries are in hearty accord.” Yet again, on the other side, repeated representations of a quite opposite character to that of Bishop Harris have frequently appeared, both in letters and papers, in the United States and in England.

The exact truth is with neither of these contentions; to appreciate it one must bear in mind the difficult situation in which the missionaries in Korea have been placed. All the wrongs (as their story has been told in the last chapter), real or fancied, important and trivial but true, or important and trivial but falsely alleged, have been appealed to them by their Korean converts and also by Korean adventurers, with claims for sympathy and for assistance. What was said of the Cretans in old times may be said of the Koreans to-day: they are liars quite generally. Even when they do not intend deliberately to deceive, they find it impossible to refrain from gross exaggeration. On the other hand, the missionaries, where their sympathies are wrought upon by their own children in the faith—all the more on account of the mental and moral weakness of those children—are apt to be over-credulous, and are not always sane in judgment or prudent in conduct. These virtues are perhaps too much to expect; perhaps they are not even the appropriate virtues for a Christian woman when one of her own sex exposes bruises which she alleges to have been inflicted by the hands of a “heathen coolie.” At such moments it is not easy to remember the deeds of her own countrywomen in the South, or of her own countrymen in San Francisco, in the Philippines, or in South Africa.

Furthermore, it cannot be truthfully claimed that none of the missionaries have ever meddled in politics with a view to injure the Japanese Government in Korea. It was, in fact, an American missionary who, after one of his colleagues upon the mission field, while expressing his sympathy with the Korean Emperor, had refused to send a secret telegram asking for interference from the President of the United States, did send such a telegram; and when sternly rebuked by the diplomatic representative of his own nation for conduct so unbecoming to his profession, he replied with an assertion of the right to do as he pleased in all such matters. Others have, from time to time, allowed themselves to be used by the more wily Korean, whether un-Christian official or Christian convert, so as to involve themselves in implied complicity with political intrigues. If it is a mistake—or even worse than a mistake—to circulate reports of evil without examination into their accuracy, and to allow in all one’s attitude toward the powers that be, unverified suspicions and secret hostilities to dominate, then a considerable number of the missionary body in Korea must plead guilty in the past to this mistake. But most of all has this body suffered from its failure to disavow and practically to dissolve all connection with those other “foreign friends” of Korea who have during the past few years brought upon her Emperor and her people much more of misery and of harm than has been wrought by all the irresponsible and disreputable Japanese adventurers taken together.

A marked improvement, however, in the relations between the missionaries and the Japanese Government in Korea has characterized the treatment of the more recent events. For, although there was inevitably a certain intensifying of hostile feeling by the uprising and bloodshed that followed the Convention of July, 1907, the active co-operation of the most influential majority of the missionaries in the plans of the[399] Residency-General for the future welfare of the Korean people seemed to have been by this time assured. During the recent troublous times—in spite of charges to the contrary—they appear to have remained, almost without exception, faithful to their true calling and reasonably effective in limiting or preventing the yet sorer evils that might have followed the abdication of the Emperor, the disbandment of the Korean army, and the tightening of Japan’s grip upon Korean internal affairs. With certain, not very numerous, exceptions—and those mostly among the spurious Christians who used the title only as a cover of selfish or foolish political aims—the converts also acquitted themselves well. The Korean Christians and their foreign leaders were favored by the Japanese Government with special protection when the mad and cruel Korean mob rose up, in veritable ancient fashion, to plunder and to murder atrociously, in spots favorable to such activity throughout the land. Thus in the emergency which, thanks to the wisdom of both kinds of reforming and restraining forces, was after all far less great than might have been expected, Korea made at comparatively small expense a great step forward toward the position of a truly civilized and prosperous nation. And if these same two forces—the economical and judicial, backed by the police and the military, and the moral and spiritual force on which Christianity relies—continue to work in accord, as we may hope they will, the full redemption of Korea in the nearer future is assured.

Of the administrative mistakes which have hindered the progress of modern missions elsewhere there appear to have been comparatively few in Korea. Among such mistakes, perhaps the following two are most important: first, the failure to occupy strongly certain strategic centres with missionary institutions, and to postpone the occupation of other less important places for the work of the trained native helper,[400] Bible-reader, evangelist, or pastor; and, second, the rivalries and waste of denominational jealousy and exclusiveness. In Korea, the two cities of Seoul and Pyeng-yang have wisely been selected as centres in which to build up a “plant” of Christian institutions of various kinds—churches, schools, hospitals, and seminaries for the training of native assistants. Further, the two largest missionary bodies—namely, the American Methodists and American Presbyterians, have worked together with admirable respect for each other’s rights and in sincere co-operation.

There is one other matter of policy touching the administration of missions which, in this connection, it is fitting to mention, but about which anyone with the views of the writer might well hesitate to express publicly an opinion. It is true, however, in the judgment of many of the wisest friends of missions, that in the Far East the sphere of woman in missionary work should be more carefully guarded and even restricted. It is impossible to make the inhabitants of the Orient, in general, understand the propriety of foreign women being on terms of intimacy, even as religious teachers, with native young men. On the other hand, women must, as a matter of course, be employed in all the work of the most intimate character, and within the home circle, which concerns their own sex. It is also true that not a few of the most serious difficulties and perplexing cases of friction between the missionaries and the diplomats and civil magistrates, when traced to their real origin, are due to the more personal and emotional way in which matters of public interest are regarded by the gentler sex. The legitimate work of foreign Christian women in the Far East is invaluable; but it should be private and confined, for the most part if not exclusively, to intercourse with native girls and women. In all administrative affairs, and in general where the missions come into closest contact with the civil authorities;[401] it is better to-day, as it was in the days of early Christianity, that her voice should not be heard.

The recent history of the planting and growth of Christian missions in Korea shows a period of bloody persecution which was followed, less than a score of years later, by a period of remarkably rapid increase. In 1707 some French priests from Peking visited the northern border of the peninsula, but were unable to enter the country. It was three-quarters of a century later (1783) that Thomas Kim, a Korean youth who had been converted to Christianity under the Portuguese bishop, Alexandria de Gloria, came over from China and succeeded in introducing the foreign religion into his native land. A year later a royal decree was issued against Christianity, and Thomas Kim was executed for his faith’s sake. But, although two other Korean Christians who had been baptized in Peking were beheaded in Seoul, December 8, 1791, the new religion began to spread rapidly in Korea. The usual course of such efforts was being run: others were executed, a new edict in 1802 was issued against Christianity, and yet, “this added much to the knowledge of the faith.” In 1836, Pierre Maubant, the second Papal nominee to the post of Vicar Apostolic of Korea, reached Seoul after an arduous journey; and when three years later still another murderous edict was issued, this Christian Apostle and the two other French missionaries who had subsequently joined him, under instruction from one of the three, Bishop Imbert, surrendered themselves to martyrdom in the hope of staying the persecution of their Korean converts. Still Christianity continued to grow in the number of its adherents; and by the year 1860, the foreign religion counted nearly 20,000 native converts. Then began, in the early part of 1866, the infamous slaughter of the faithful under the Tai Won Kun, the father of the “amiable” ex-Emperor, and the man “with the bowels of iron and the heart of stone.” Within some five years[402] about one-half of the entire number of converts had paid the penalty with their lives.

It is not well to forget these facts of history in connection with our estimate of the character of the Korean Government, the Korean people, and the development of Christian Missions in Korea. Under the son of this cruel father, the late Emperor, precisely the same thing might have taken place at any time, had it been for his interests, in his own sight, to have it so; and had it not been for his fear of the consequences, after foreign control began to exercise some restraint over native cruelty. It is foolish to suppose that the religion or the life of the Protestant missionary, for example, who has served the ex-Emperor as physician, are any dearer to His Majesty than were the religion and the services of the French Roman Catholic priests to the Tai Won Kun. The first thing, indeed, which the earlier treaties with foreign nations demanded as their right was the “free exercise of their religion in the treaty ports for the subjects of the signatory Powers; nor to this day does any article, expressly[97] sanctioning missionary enterprise, appear in any of the treaties.” That the Emperor, when freed from the influence of the Tai Won Kun, was in his youth somewhat sincerely inclined to a more liberal policy toward foreign religions is undoubtedly true; but almost as undoubtedly, that his kindness toward American missionaries has been from a purely political motive and that his use of them has been, not at all to learn the truths of the Christian religion, but to discover through them new and improved methods of soliciting and procuring “help” from so-called Christian nations.

In recent years, moreover, repeated instances have occurred of the indisposition or inability of the Korean Government to protect either the foreign missionaries or their native converts.[403] During the second Tong Hak uprising in the South, in May of 1894, the American missionaries were called into Seoul for their safe protection. The Chinese army in Korea during the Chino-Japan war was everywhere a source of terror to the foreign preachers of Christian doctrine and to their avowed Korean converts; and in July of 1894 a French priest was murdered by Chinese soldiers at Kong Hyen, near Asan. On the contrary, both the foreign and the native Christians felt quite free from anxiety when the troops of Japan were in control of Korean territory. The spirit of the official classes toward the foreign religion was revealed in clear light when the Korean Minister of Education, in October of 1896, issued a book entitled “The Warp and Woof of Confucianism,” which was so offensive that it was objected to by the Foreign Representatives in a body as being disrespectful to them. In general, the capricious favors of an unscrupulous monarch, who would readily and even gladly deliver to death those whom he has tried to make, whether with success or not, his tools to help carve a way through confining surroundings, are a poor substitute for a system of law and justice, as a soil into which to pour the seed of Christian truth.

There are said now to be thousands of native Roman-Catholic Christians scattered about in the country of Korea. Many of the priests, who are natives, live with their converts; but it is the policy of the Church to have every one of its members visited once in each year by his spiritual father. The French Catholic Cathedral (dedicated May 29, 1898) and establishment is one of the most conspicuous objects in Seoul. The archbishop in charge is an intelligent, kindly, and devout man. While speaking with mild disapproval of the treatment received by his converts a year or two before the arrival of the Resident-General, and expressing his fear that the Koreans might inevitably be driven to the wall by the multitudinous incoming of a sturdier and more aggressive[404] race, he gratefully admitted the marked improvement in conditions which Marquis Ito was bringing to pass. To “the Church,” however, all political institutions were indifferent: Her work remained ever one and the same, and ever equally secure.

The story of Protestant missionary enterprise in Korea since the arrival, in June, 1883, on a tour of inspection, of Dr. R. S. McClay, has been frequently told. It need not be repeated here; for the purpose of this chapter is only to sketch in barest outline the relations existing between the reforms planned by the Residency-General and the welfare of Korea as depending upon the progress of the Christian religion there. General Foote, who was then United States Minister, presented to the Emperor a statement of the object of the proposed mission which, it was understood, would be encouraged to work most acceptably along medical and educational lines. The summary of what has actually been accomplished along these particular lines has already been given (Chap. XIV). Acting on the suggestion of Dr. McClay, the Board of Missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States sent out two missionaries, one a graduate of the College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York City (Dr. Scranton, who, after a long and useful service as a missionary, has recently been made a Professor in the Government Medical School), and the other a graduate of Drew Theological Seminary, Mr. Henry Gerhardt Appenzeller. Before these gentlemen reached Seoul the bloody events of 1884 had taken place. In 1887 followed Rev. George Heber Jones; and in the same year Rev. Franklin Ohlinger was transferred from China to Korea. Other helpers were added to this mission, as the demands of the work grew, until the report for 1907 shows that forty-two foreign members and thirty-five Korean preachers, ten of whom are ordained, are engaged under its auspices in the work of propagating Christianity on Korean[405] soil. In recent years the more visible signs of success have greatly increased. The summary of statistics presented before the Korean Mission Conference at its session of June, 1906, was as follows: Full members, 2,810; probationers, 9,981; Sunday Schools, 116, with teachers and scholars numbering 8,943. But only a year later, the total connection of the Church of this denomination in Korea was given at 23,453—of which 19,570 were probationers—a gain over the preceding year of 10,664, or nearly one hundred per cent. During the same year 3,553 persons had been baptized.

It was on April 5, 1885, that Rev. H. G. Underwood of the American Presbyterian Mission arrived and “formally opened Protestant clerical mission work.” He was followed, on June 21st of the same year, by J. W. Heron, M.D., who died in Seoul, July 26, 1890. To this mission other workmen were added from time to time; and in November of 1892 a mission of the Southern Presbyterian Church of America was started by Messrs. Junkin, Reynolds, and Tate, and a Miss Davis. Still later, on September 7, 1898, three clergymen of the Canadian Presbyterian Church—Messrs. Foote, McRae, and Dr. Grierson—arrived to open a mission of this denomination. These several Presbyterian missions have been, on the whole, well supported from the churches at home, well manned, and more than ordinarily successful in planting and upbuilding the various classes of missionary institutions. The table compiled from the council statistics of these missions for the year ending June 30, 1906, makes the following exhibit of results. The total number of missionaries was then 77, of whom 41 were women, and 12 were engaged in medical work. The native helpers numbered 373, of whom 81 were unordained preachers, and 201 teachers (men), with 42 Bible women and women teachers. The fruits of these laborers were 20 fully organized churches and 628 out-stations, or places of “regular meeting,” of which 481 were[406] put down as “entirely self-supporting.” Connected with them were 12,546 communicants, of which 2,811 had been added during the year, and 44,587 “adherents,” with 11,025 “catechumens” and 36,975 members of the Sunday Schools. The average attendance upon these regular meetings was 35,262; and the total of native contributions was $27,418.89, as reckoned in United States gold. When the poverty of the average Korean Christians and the difficulties of various kinds which hinder them from the regular discharge of any of their obligations are considered, this showing of attendance at church services and of liberality in giving cannot be pronounced otherwise than remarkable. The increase in every form of work since the report, the statistics of which have just been quoted, is no less remarkable in the Presbyterian Missions than in that of the Methodist Episcopal Church.

These two American missions are, among those of the Protestant churches, much the most active and successful in showing such results as can take the form of a statistical exhibit. But other missionary enterprises are worthy of mention. In September of 1890 Bishop Corfe (whose diocese was Korea and Shing-king, i. e., Manchuria) arrived at Seoul to establish a Church of England Mission. He was preceded by Dr. Julius Wiles, Deputy Surgeon-General Retired, who opened medical work for the mission and who was succeeded in 1893 by Dr. E. H. Baldock. With the additional help of other clergy and lay helpers, and of sisters of St. Paul’s, Kilburn, the customary forms of church work—evangelizing, translating and printing a Korean prayer-book and other publications, hospital work and care of the poor and sick—have been undertaken with that rare good sense and self-denial which characterize so much of the missionary enterprise of this Church.

It was not until 1899, in the month of January, that the[407] Russian Church Mission arrived in Seoul. It consisted of the Rev. Deacon Nicholas; and he was followed by the Right Rev. Archimandrite Chrisanff and Mr. Jonas Levtchenke, Psalmist, on February 12, 1900. The dwellings and school-houses for this mission were established near the West Gate and were first occupied in the summer of the same year.

No complete account or just estimate of the Christian forces now at work for the religious and moral uplift of Korea could be given without emphasizing the presence and fine progress of the Young Men’s Christian Association at Seoul. The operations of this association did not begin until November of 1901. Their work has been much embarrassed in the country places by the illicit use of their name to cover and commend various unwise and sometimes corrupt and dangerous attempts at so-called “reform,” or even at sedition and revolution. In Seoul itself—where is the only legitimate and recognized Y. M. C. A.—some of their make-believe or would-be friends have done their good cause much more of damage than has been done by any of their avowed enemies. In spite of these embarrassments, however, and of others to which fuller reference need not be made in this connection, the work of this benevolent association has been most successful. As we have already said, the value of this work for the moral, industrial, and educational reform of the Koreans has been officially recognized by a generous subsidy from the Government. Its efficiency and extent cannot fail to be greatly increased when its new building, so commodious and centrally located, has been in use for a number of years. The writer gratefully acknowledges that during his visit in April and May, of 1907, it was largely through the manly courage and good sense of its foreign officers, and of that portion of its native official and other membership which followed the lead of these foreign officers, that he was able[408] to leave any impression upon the Korean Christians. Indeed, in the capital city, no other means were found for even saying a private word to the Koreans in behalf of education, morals, or religion. It was only when away from the pernicious influences of the Court—notably at Pyeng-yang—that the courage of the missionaries seemed sufficient to sustain a platform for such efforts, on the part of the guest of Marquis Ito, in the churches themselves.[98]

The “Great Revival” of 1906-1907, which added so much to the encouragement of the missionaries and to the number of their converts, can best be understood in its most characteristic features when viewed in the light of what has already been said about the nature of the Koreans themselves. After a period of silent and slow preparation, a sudden seizure of the impulse to repent and confess came upon the entire body of native Christians, and even carried away the foreign teachers and preachers also. Night after night, and several times each Sunday, the churches were crowded to suffocation with hearers of their strange words, and witnesses of their unwonted actions. Especially at Pyeng-yang did the people, both Christian and non-Christian, flock in from the surrounding country—first to “look-see,” perhaps, and then to participate in these extraordinary performances. In numerous instances, the penitent rose with an appearance of enforced calmness and began quietly to tell of the sinful experiences of the years both preceding and following his adoption of the Christian name. But as he proceeded his excitement grew; his voice rose to a higher and yet higher pitch and assumed a tone of ever-increasing shrillness; sobbing and wailing intervened; and, finally, he began to sway to and fro, to beat his head against the mats, sometimes so violently as to cause the blood to flow; then he fell to the floor, where he ended his experiences in a complete nervous collapse and lay prostrate,[409] frothing at the mouth and groaning piteously, or became quite unconscious.

What may be considered as an official account by an eye-witness of two of these remarkable meetings gives the following description of the phenomena:

In the later stages of the revival, those who went to mock remained to be carried away by the same impulse; and when they were exhorted by the foreign or native helpers, either[410] at their place, wedged in among the others (for the Korean audiences sit packed together on the floor), or were dragged or helped forward to the altar, they experienced the relief and happiness of “being converted.”

From the principal centres of this religious movement it spread to surrounding places—sometimes through those who returned home from these centres, sometimes through delegates sent out from the same centres. One of the most remarkable of the latter cases was the experience of the delegates deputed from Pyeng-yang to visit Chemulpo. At first, when the church at the latter place saw the brethren from the northern city, heard their tale, and witnessed their testimony and procedure, they were greatly alarmed. It was even suggested that one of the visiting brethren should be put to death as an emissary of the devil, if not a devil himself. But the zeal of the preachers from Pyeng-yang finally triumphed; and the church at Chemulpo itself became the scene of similar confessions and convulsions of penitence.

The student of similar phenomena in the past will have no difficulty in understanding and appreciating at their true value the experiences of the “great revival” in Korea. Similar emotional manifestations are common enough on a variety of occasions, as well in the Korea of the past as in the Korea of to-day. Indeed, at the very time that the native Christians of Pyeng-yang were wailing and sobbing, and beating their heads on the mats, on account of their sins, the multitude of the same city were doing the same things because they had been deceived into believing that their Emperor was to be dethroned and carried off to Japan. From time immemorial, the proper official way to attract the attention of His Majesty to any request of his officials, or of the people, has been to make somewhat similar demonstrations before the palace gates or inside the palace walls. In a word, such[411] is the Korean mode of manifesting any strong emotional excitement.

But to discredit altogether the sincerity of these confessions or the genuineness of the following conversion would be a no less grave mistake, from every point of view, than to place a specially high value on them because of their abnormal[99] psychological character. It is not strange that the Korean populace is Korean still, when it suddenly takes to some new kind of reform, or adopts some new kind of religion. Such strong and contradictory, and even convulsive, reactions characterize the native in his politics, his morals, his religion, and his behavior generally. The amiably cruel Emperor, the smiling and good-natured but, on occasion, atrociously barbarous court official, the peasant who seems as gentle as his ox until he turns upon the ox, or upon his neighbor, or upon the local magistrate, to tear in pieces, reveal essentially the same psychical characteristics.

But how, it may be asked, as to the kind of Christian father or mother, Christian citizen, Christian leader, which will be evolved from this multitude of converts? Here, again, the only fair and reasonable answer will avoid the two alike tempting but, in the end, disappointing extremes. During the writer’s stay in Korea, Dr. George Heber Jones, who fifteen years before had been barred outside of the gates, preached at Kang Wha to a congregation of fifteen hundred willing hearers, about one thousand of whom were professing Christians. Multitudes in the whole Island were just then turning toward Christianity—entire schools and, in some instances, almost entire villages, were professing the new faith. In their burning zeal the converts were even resorting to a sort of boycott in order to compel recalcitrants to the adoption of this foreign religion. Yet when a colleague of[412] this missionary, a member of the same mission, was a few weeks later urged to baptize some sixty converts in one village, he refused to comply with the request in the case of a single person, because examination showed that none of the sixty had as yet sufficient knowledge of what was really meant by proclaiming themselves Christians.

Here, again, however, the student wise in the things of man’s religious experience will not depreciate the value of such early but ignorant steps, wherever they are taken from a motive not too degradedly selfish, toward a higher spiritual life. The infancy of the Church in Korea will, as a matter of course, be characterized by the infantile condition of the Korean mind, united, alas! with a morality that is far removed from the innocence customarily attributed to the human infant. But already the later experiences of modern missions fully authorizes the expectation that what Roman Catholicism earlier did to fit the Koreans for martyrdom under the Tai Won Kun, will be much surpassed in what the combined efforts of all the Christian institutions now planted in Korea will do to fit her children for a nobler and happier life under the Japanese Protectorate.

In fine, the Japanese Protectorate under the present Resident-General, and the foreign Christian missionaries with their native converts, command the two sources of power and influence which must unitedly work for the uplift of the Korean nation. That His Excellency, the Marquis Ito, takes this view of the matter, he has both by speech and action made sufficiently clear. That the majority of the missionary body are taking the same view of the same matter is becoming every day more clear. If, through any honest difference of opinion upon important matters of policy, the leaders of these two forces should fail to co-operate in the future, it would be deplorable indeed. But if either one of the two should, whether through avoidable misunderstanding or[413] because of the decline in an intelligent and conscientious desire for the good of Korea, refuse to co-operate, the refusal would be no less of a misfortune; it would be also worthy to be called a crime.

A telegram from The Hague to the Orient, bearing date of July 1, 1907, announced the arrival of three Koreans at the place of Peace Conference, and the publication over their signatures, in a French paper called The Peace Conference Times, of an open letter addressed to the delegates of all the Powers. In their letter these men claimed to have been authorized by the Emperor, in a document bearing his seal, to take part in the Conference as the delegates of Korea. In this connection they repeated the time-worn falsehoods as to the conditions under which the Treaty of November, 1905, was signed, and as to the present treatment accorded by the Japanese to the ruler and people of Korea. In view of these alleged facts they made in behalf of their country an appeal for pity and for relief to all the foreign delegates. As was inevitable from the beginning, the efforts of this deputation at The Hague came to naught; and after the death of one of their number they departed to carry on their mission of appeal, first in England and afterward in the United States. So thoroughly discredited, however, had the word of such Koreans and of their “foreign friends” already become in the hearing of all acquainted with the facts, that the mission met with as little real success in these other foreign countries as at The Hague. So far as its original purpose was concerned, it ended in failure—miserable and complete. But in Korea itself the results were by no means transient or trivial.

The news of the appearance of the so-called Korean delegates[415] at the World’s Peace Conference was received in Seoul on July 3d. It will be remembered (see p. 83 f.) that—to quote from the Seoul Press of the next day—“when Mr. H. B. Hulbert left for Europe under peculiar circumstances, there were rumors that he was charged by the Emperor of Korea with some political mission to The Hague.” This paper then goes on to say that it did not attach much importance to the rumor at the time, being unable to reconcile such an enterprise with the reputation for shrewdness of the chief foreign commissioner, and also “with the expressions of good will and friendship which the Emperor of Korea has repeated to Japan and her Representative over and over again.” But there were even more important reasons why the rumor should seem antecedently incredible. No one of the present Cabinet, or of the previously existing Cabinet, appeared to have any knowledge of so serious an affair of State; no one of either of these bodies had even been consulted by His Majesty about the possibility of such an undertaking. “Even the best informed did not dream that a step so palpably useless and treacherous would be taken.” The conclusion followed that, if the rumor proved true, the act was ascribable to the Emperor alone, as “instigated no doubt by the coterie of irresponsible native counsellors and their obscure foreign coadjutors whose mischievous advice has already so often led His Majesty astray.” Such a movement was rendered all the more untimely, not to say unnecessary, because under the new Ministry and the wise and kindly leadership of the Residency-General, all the foreign and domestic affairs of the country were now proceeding in the most orderly and satisfactory manner. Whatever ground for protest and appeal against the treatment of Korea by the Japanese Government may have existed in the past, everything in the situation of the spring and early summer of 1907 called for hopeful and active co-operation on the part of all forces interested in[416] the welfare of the land. The stirring of the elements always ready for riot, sedition, arson, and bloodshed, was, under the circumstances, both a folly and a crime.

On the morning of the same day on which the news of the affair at The Hague reached Seoul, the Emperor sent the Minister of the Imperial Household to Marquis Ito with a message disavowing all responsibility for the delegation and for the protest addressed by it to the Peace Conference. This was precisely what the delegation had already informed all Europe His Korean Majesty would certainly do. But then there was their word against the Emperor’s word; and they claimed that the document in their possession bore the Imperial seal. There was, moreover, for the very few who knew the circumstances under which the alleged foreign member of the delegation left Seoul, the previous private confession of His Majesty made—to be sure—only after repeated private denials. The situation was, therefore, so far as the testimony of Koreans went, rather complex. His Majesty was now publicly denying what he had formerly, in private, both affirmed and denied; his delegates were publicly affirming what he was publicly denying, but had previously, in private, both denied and affirmed. To the Minister of the Imperial Household Marquis Ito replied that, in view of all the circumstances which had come to his knowledge—not the least significant of which was the public declaration of the Imperial sanction, made by the delegation and supported by its offer to submit its credentials to the inspection of the Conference—the force of His Majesty’s disavowal was weakened. At any rate, the situation had now become so grave that the only course the Resident-General could pursue was to submit the whole matter to his own Government and await its decision.[100]

The news from The Hague at once provoked a lively discussion on the part of the Japanese press and the political parties as to the proper treatment of Korea and her Emperor for this breach of treaty faith. Meetings were held by the leaders of the principal parties to determine the policy which should, in their judgment, be followed by the Government; and several of the more prominent statesmen allowed themselves to be interviewed for publication of their views upon this important national affair. Count Okuma was reported as having suggested that His Majesty of Korea, in case he had authorized a scheme so lacking in common sense, could not be in his right mind, and might, not improperly, be placed under restraint. Count Inouye, whose successful management of Korean affairs at the close of the Chino-Japan war entitled his judgment to public confidence, thought that if the Emperor could be induced, or compelled, to come to Japan and see for himself what Japan had done by way of recent developments, and what Japan wished to do for Korea, he would voluntarily cease from his unfriendly and[418] treacherous policy.[101] Of the political bodies, the Constitutionalists, or party now in control of the Government, took the entire matter most quietly, and expressed itself as entirely ready to leave the whole situation in the hands of the Resident-General, as advised or instructed by the Tokyo authorities. Prime Minister Saionji, to whose cool judgment and quiet temper the nation is greatly indebted at all times for allaying tendencies to undue excitement, assured the Daido delegates, on July 12th, that the policy toward Korea had already been established and that there was really no need of making “much fuss” over the matter. The Progressives, or strongest anti-Government party, took the most vehement position of urgency for prompt action and for punitive measures. Some of its papers went so far as again to call in question the entire policy of Marquis Ito, with its plan for securing a peaceful development of Korea under a Japanese Protectorate; but only a few called for immediate forcible annexation.

On the whole, and considering the great and repeated provocations offered to Japan by the Korean Emperor and his Government, the Japanese nation kept its temper in a truly admirable way. While agreeing that some means must at last be found to stop the interference of His Majesty of Korea with all attempts to reform internal affairs, and the better in the future to control foreign intrigues, the general opinion favored strongly an increased confidence in the character and policy of the existing Residency-General. The situation in Japan itself was faithfully described as follows in the Japan Times, in its issue of July 14th:

The Tokyo Government acted with promptness and decision in dealing with this latest phase of the everlasting Korean problem. On July 16th it was publicly announced that the Government had determined to “go along with the opinion of the people,” and adopt “a strong line of action toward Korea.” Viscount Hayashi, Minister for Foreign Affairs, was forthwith appointed to convey in person the views of the Government to His Excellency Marquis Ito, and was commissioned with the disposal of Korean affairs after consultation with the Marquis on the spot. Hayashi bore with him several somewhat different plans, among which decision was to be reached after his arrival at Seoul; but all of them contemplated leaving the details very largely to the Resident-General. It is pertinent to say, with authority, in this connection, that none of these plans included, much less suggested or required, the abdication of the Emperor; although, as we have already seen, Marquis Ito had become quite conclusively convinced that the reform of Korean affairs could never be accomplished with the co-operation of[420] the present ruler of the land, or, indeed, otherwise than in spite of his utmost opposition.

Meantime there was a great stir taking place among the members of the different political factions in Seoul. The Emperor himself, now that his own foolish treachery had been brought to light, was daily becoming more alarmed. The Court intriguers of necessity shared in this growing alarm. Before the departure of Viscount Hayashi, the Imperial Government of Japan had received a telegram from Mr. Motono, Minister in St. Petersburg, which stated that the new Russo-Japanese Convention would recognize Japan’s rights in Korea even more completely than the Peace of Portsmouth had done. The fact, now made evident to the Korean officials, that the backs of all the nations were turned toward the verbal and practical falsehoods of their Emperor and of his intriguing foreign friends, and that the judgment of all those wise in respect of Korean history and Korean characteristics saw no hope for their country except through the aid of Japan, tended as a matter of course to deepen this alarm. And when the determination of the Japanese Government to send one of its Cabinet Ministers to Korea, in order at once and finally to put an end to Korea’s power, in treachery, intrigue, and assassination, to work her own woe and to jeopard the peace of the Far East, was made known, the consternation in Seoul officialdom reached its height.

The only persons among the Koreans who could be relied upon in any measure to save the country from well-merited punishment for this last act of insane treachery on the part of the Emperor and his Court were the newly appointed Korean Cabinet. It was a great piece of good fortune for Korea that this Cabinet had previously been appointed and pledged to fidelity to the interests of the whole country rather than to connivance at His Majesty’s intriguing ways. On the whole, in this extreme emergency, the Korean Government behaved[421] wisely, patriotically, and in a way to secure the crown and the people against the worst results of the Emperor’s policy. They began their efforts, indeed, in the vain attempt to discover the plans of the Japanese Government through the Resident-General and to get His Excellency’s advice upon the best course of action on their part in order to meet these plans. But Marquis Ito refrained alike from indicating the steps which would probably be taken by Japan and also from advising as to the steps which it was best for Korea to take.

The Korean Ministers were by this time holding daily conferences of several hours in length. The result of these conferences was the conclusion on their part that the abdication of the Emperor offered the only escape from the direful condition in which he had himself placed his country. As early, therefore, as an audience on the 6th of July, they began collectively and individually to urge upon His Majesty the advisability of this step. There is no doubt that they gave this advice the more heartily because, apart from the present dilemma, they were profoundly convinced that he was a bad and dangerous ruler, and that comparatively little could be done for the improvement of Korean affairs as long as he sat upon the throne of Korea. The occasion was opportune, then, for terminating such weak misrule and perversion of Imperial power.

Viscount Hayashi arrived at Seoul on the evening of July 18th. In the afternoon of the same day Marquis Ito visited the Palace at the request of the Korean Emperor. He found that His Majesty had no suggestions to make as to the solution of the grave problem before the two governments: His Majesty continued, however, to disavow the Hague delegation and to suggest the severe punishment of its members.[102] The more important reason for the request for this[422] interview appeared when the Emperor stated that his Cabinet were urging him to abdicate and suggested that he supposed they were prompted to do so by Marquis Ito. This the Marquis emphatically denied: so far as the Resident-General was concerned, the Korean Cabinet were in all respects acting on their own initiative. His Excellency was himself still awaiting the decision of his own Government at Tokyo; and until that was announced he had nothing to say as to what Japan was likely to do. Moreover, since he was not a subject of the Emperor of Korea he should refrain from advising His Majesty in any way about the matter of his abdication.[103]

Meantime the Korean Cabinet continued to press upon the Emperor the necessity of his abdication in the interests of the country at large. On Wednesday, July 17th, they proceeded in a body to the Palace, where His Majesty is said to have kept them waiting for their audience with him for nearly three hours. At this audience, however, they again explained the nature of the present crisis, and again besought him to save his country by sacrificing the crown for himself. After a prolonged interview they are said to have left the Emperor much enraged and still refusing. But on the next day the Cabinet Ministers repaired again to the Palace at a quarter to five in the afternoon. Before this meeting could be over the train bearing the Viscount Hayashi would roll into the South-Gate Station. The whole affair was culminating; the national crisis was imminent. For more than three hours[423] the Ministers pressed for their Sovereign’s abdication, with a most bold and insistent attitude. It was after eleven o’clock that evening when the Emperor began to show signs of giving way, and ordered summons to be issued to assemble the Elder Statesmen. These men soon arrived at the Palace and held a secret conference among themselves, during which they, too, arrived at the decision that there was really no alternative for the Emperor; he should yield to the advice of his Ministers; and the throne was at once memorialized to this effect. At three o’clock on the morning of the nineteenth the Emperor agreed to retire in favor of the Crown Prince, and a decree announcing this fact was published in the Official Gazette at a later hour the same morning.

From about ten o’clock on Thursday night the people began to assemble in front of the Palace. By one o’clock in the morning of Friday the crowd had become dense and began to show threatening signs of a riotous character; but they dispersed by degrees without serious incidents, until at dawn scarcely one hundred men were remaining in the neighborhood. Rumors of the Emperor’s abdication were spread abroad after sunrise; and again the crowd of excited people increased in front of the main gate of the Palace and in the streets adjoining. A hand-bill, circulated from the same source of so much pernicious misinformation—namely, the native edition of the Korean Daily News—which asserted that the Emperor had been deposed and was going to be carried off to Japan by Viscount Hayashi, added greatly to the popular excitement. The Korean police, under Police Adviser Maruyama, however, had the matter well in hand; and having been earnestly advised by the Resident-General to avoid all unnecessary harshness, they succeeded in dispersing the people with only a few trifling encounters. In the work of restoring order and preventing riot and bloodshed, the police were doubtless greatly assisted by a timely downpour[424] of rain. For of all people under the sun it is probable that a Korean crowd of men, with their expensive and cherished crinoline hats and their lustrous white raiment, most object to getting thoroughly wet. Patriotism of the intensest heat can scarcely bear this natural process of cooling.

At 7.15 P. M. on July 19th the Korean Minister of Justice called on the Resident-General and delivered to him the following message from His Majesty:

This appeal to the Residency-General to preserve order in Seoul was made in view of events which had occurred earlier in the afternoon of the same day. About a quarter to four a Japanese military officer on horseback was stopped by the mob while passing in front of the main gate of the Palace; and when the Japanese policemen in the Korean service came to his rescue and attempted to open a path for him through the crowd, both they and the officer were more or less seriously wounded by stones. The mob, on being dispersed, retreated in the neighborhood of Chong-no. Here a party of Korean soldiers, who had deserted from the barracks since[425] the previous night, joined the crowds under the command of an officer. Soon after five o’clock these soldiers, without either provocation or warning, fired a succession of volleys upon a party of police officers, killing and wounding more than a score; whereupon the fury of the mob broke out anew, and several more were killed and wounded on both sides. The total number of police officers who lost their lives in this way was ten, and some thirty or more others were more or less severely wounded.[104] After this dastardly action the Korean soldiers ran away.

As to the unprovoked character of this deplorable incident the testimony of eye-witnesses is quite conclusive. Dr. George Heber Jones, who was on the spot soon after the first sound of firing, says: “In fact all through the excitement I was impressed with the moderation and self-control shown by the public officers in dealing with the crowds which had been surging about them since Thursday night. Their conduct was admirable.” After narrating the experiences of himself and his companion as they came upon the dead and wounded lying in the streets and alleys of the district, the wrecked police-boxes and the officers covered with blood, this witness goes on to say: “The Pyeng-yang soldiers in the barracks just north of Chong-no, becoming restive, in the afternoon broke into the magazine of their barracks and supplied themselves with ammunition. One company of them then broke out, and under command—it is said, of a captain who was mounted—suddenly appeared at Chong-no and without warning began firing on the policemen who were trying to preserve order in the crowds.... A mania of destruction[426] took possession of the people for a time, and there are reports of assaults on Japanese civilians in various parts of the city; and from what I personally witnessed there is little doubt of this, that the scenes of violence which occurred in 1884 were repeated yesterday.”[105]

As a result of the Emperor’s request following upon this outbreak of serious disorder, the city of Seoul was put in charge of Japanese police and gendarmes. A strong body of Japanese troops was posted outside the Palace, and four machine guns were placed in front of the Taihan or Main Gate. A battalion of infantry was summoned from Pyeng-yang, and a squadron of the artillery regiment at Yong-san. The riotous outbreaks were now mainly directed against those Korean officials who had brought about the abdication of the Emperor. Over one thousand rioters assembled near the Kwang-song Gate and, after a short debate, proceeded to assault and set on fire the residence of the Prime Minister, Mr. Yi Wan-yong. In spite of the efforts of the Japanese troops and gendarmes, as well as of the fire brigades, a large portion of the residence was destroyed. Part of a Korean battalion also assaulted the prison at Chong-no, where the headquarters of the Japanese police had been established, but were driven away. At 6 P. M. of Tuesday, July 23d, a huge crowd assembled and “passed resolutions” that at sunset the headquarters of the Il Chin-hoi, or party most prominent in its demand for reforms, should be set on fire, and after this several other buildings were marked for destruction. These attempts were, however, frustrated; but the villas of Mr. Yi Kun-tak and Mr. Yi Chi-yung, the former Ministers of War and of Home Affairs, outside the small East Gate, were[427] burned. Finally, these demonstrations of rowdyism came to a point of cessation, and the usual order of Seoul was restored. During the period of rioting the Korean crowd was, as usual, tolerably impartial in the distribution of its favors; in addition to Japanese and Koreans, a few Chinese and other foreigners were assaulted or shot at.

All these events made it entirely obvious, even to the most prejudiced observer, that the Korean Government was still as incapable of securing and preserving order in times of popular excitement as it has ever been. It could not guarantee the safety of its own officials or of foreigners of any nationality, without outside assistance. Unless the controlling influence of the Japanese authorities had been exercised, there cannot be the slightest doubt that a frightful reign of anarchy and bloodshed would have ensued upon the abdication of the Emperor; and no one acquainted with the Korean mob, when once let loose, will venture to predict how many, and whom, it might have involved. Thus far these authorities had done nothing beyond lending an indispensable support and assistance to the Korean Government. They were acting wholly in its interests as centralized in the newly declared Emperor and in the Cabinet Ministers. One other thing, however, was also made equally obvious. The Korean army could not be trusted; its continuance as at present constituted was an intolerable menace to both governments, as well as to the interests of the people at large. It was intrinsically worthless for the legitimate purposes of an army, and dangerous in the extreme as a force to provoke and to intensify all manner of lawlessness. If it had not been for the mutinous action of these undisciplined troops, who became centres of all the forces of sedition, arson, and murder, there would probably have been little or no bloodshed connected with the events of July, 1907.

It should not be forgotten that the Korean Ministers were influenced by patriotic motives in unanimously and urgently demanding the abdication of the Emperor.[106] It immediately became evident, however, that His Majesty did not intend really to abdicate, but that he was continuing his old tricks of intrigue, double-dealing, and instigating assassination. There was well-founded suspicion—to quote a statement based on trustworthy information—that “the unfortunate incident of Friday last and the mutinous spirit prevailing among the Korean troops were the result of an understanding between the ex-Emperor and his abettors and supporters in Seoul.” There was even proof of a conspiracy to have the Korean troops rise in a body, kill the entire Korean Cabinet, and rescue from their dominating influence his “oppressed” Majesty. Whatever may be the full measure of truth as to these and other secret intrigues and plots for sedition and murder, certain actions were publicly avowed that were unmistakably in open defiance of the new Emperor and his Ministers, as well as complete proof that by abdication His Majesty meant something quite different from what the word was properly held to signify. [This Korean word was indeed capable of two interpretations; it was, however, the term customarily employed to signify the relinquishment of Imperial control and responsibility, while at the same time “saving the face” of the person abdicating and often increasing his real influence for evil.]

At midnight on Saturday, July 20th, the ex-Emperor summoned to the Palace and personally appointed Pak[429] Yong-hio to be “Minister of the Imperial Household.”[107] Upon this Mr. Pak had the impudence to call upon Marquis Ito on the following Sunday morning and announce his appointment. It is probable that he did not meet with a very cordial reception, or succeed well in impressing His Excellency with the dignity and value of his new office. Not satisfied with this practical retraction of his own deposition of Imperial functions, when the Cabinet submitted to the Throne for Imperial signature a draft of an edict calling upon the people to keep peace and order, the ex-Emperor prohibited his son, now the reigning Emperor, from signing it and insisted that the edict should be issued in his own name. In view of all this manœuvering, the Cabinet Ministers spent another whole night closeted with the ex-Emperor: they emerged from this new contention with a renewed and perfectly positive declaration of abdication. At the same time the new Emperor issued over his own name an edict in which his subjects were warned against all disloyalty to him, and were exhorted to turn their energies, in reliance upon his guidance, to the advancement of civilization and of the national interests.

Nothing could, of course, be done toward settlement of the problem of future relations between the Governments of Korea and Japan until public order was restored. But speculation was eager and varied as to what would then take place: for neither had the Marquis Ito disclosed his views upon this subject, nor had the instructions of Minister Hayashi been made known to the public. The telegrams which came into Seoul from all quarters showed that the civilized world, both diplomatic and business, expected the out-and-out annexation of Korea by Japan, and the consequent dethronement of the Imperial house. The Koreans themselves expected little less; in addition to this they feared the immediate and open humiliation of having the ex-Emperor carried off to the enemies’ country. Indeed, it was this severe calamity which the Korean Cabinet hoped to mitigate by procuring His Majesty’s abdication. In the same hope the most numerous of the several Korean societies of an alleged patriotic character—the Il Chin-hoi, or “All-for-Progress Society”—sent in a petition, or “pathetic memorial,” to the Residency-General. After acknowledging “the policy of mildness and conciliation” which had won for His Excellency the hearts of the Korean people, the memorial proceeds in substance as follows: “The offence which the Emperor has committed in connection with the Hague question is great as a mountain; His Majesty has been very deficient in having a proper sense of what he owes to Japan. But what fault is there in the people who know nothing about the affair? Or what culpability in the land and soil of Korea? They are in no way related to the dynasty of Korea. When we think over these things we cannot stop the flow of tears in a thousand drops. Your Excellency, we pray you to have mercy on the mountains and seas of Korea and to place in a position of safety the 20,000,000 souls, the 3,000,000 homesteads, and the nation of 500 years,” [The customary expedient of Korean[431] rhetoric is to be noted in doubling the number of the population of the peninsula.]

It has been said of the Japanese that they treat no one else so generously as their defeated and prostrate enemy. However this may be, it is matter of historical truth that after some particularly aggravating offence from Korea, what Western nations generally would regard as an excess of chivalric and totally unappreciated kindness has quite uniformly characterized the treatment accorded to this country by the Japanese Government. The Bismarckian policy of “making your enemy cough up all you can when you have him by the throat” has never been the policy of Japan in dealing with the peninsula. And yet, at last, it should have been perfectly evident to every true friend of both countries that the Korean Government—traditionally corrupt, cruel, and regardless of the Korean nation—must no longer be allowed to stand between this nation and the plans for bringing it into an improved internal condition and into safer relations with foreign Powers. That formal annexation was never contemplated by the Tokyo Government became evident when, on the evening of July 21st, a congratulatory telegram was received by the new Emperor from His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Japan. To this telegram a reply was sent on the next day, which read, in effect, as follows: “By the order of my Imperial father I have ascended the throne at this difficult crisis, and being conscious of my unworthiness, I am filled with apprehensions. I beg Your Majesty to accept my profound thanks for Your Majesty’s courteous telegram of congratulations. I warmly reciprocate Your Majesty’s wishes for still more intimate relationship between the two countries and between our Imperial Houses.”

After a number of consultations between Minister Hayashi and the Residency-General, and between the Japanese representatives[432] and the Korean Cabinet (who, in their turn, consulted among themselves and with the new Emperor), at noon of Wednesday, July 24th, Marquis Ito handed over to the Korean Government a document conveying Japan’s proposals as the basis of a new Japanese-Korean agreement. After the Korean Ministers had again conferred with one another, the Premier and the Minister of War, at four o’clock P. M. of the same day, had a brief audience with their Emperor. Other conferences continued through the whole of this memorable night—with the result that at a later audience Mr. Yi Wan-yong, the Premier, was invested by His Majesty with authority to sign the new Convention. It is understood that on this occasion, as on that former equally memorable night in November of 1905, Marquis Ito used the authority given him to modify some of the details, so as to make them seem less harsh while preserving the substance of the contract, in order to “save the face” of the Korean Government. When this Convention was published in the Official Gazette, the Korean politicians of the Palace “gang” were congratulating themselves on having escaped so easily from the risk of a punitive expedition to which their Emperor, by their own assistance, had subjected them; the Korean Cabinet were congratulating themselves on the deliverance of their country from the peril of annexation; while the majority of the Korean people, even in Seoul, seemed quite indifferent to what had happened.

Immediately upon the conclusion of the new Convention Marquis Ito summoned to his residence the principal Residency-General officials and acquainted them with its terms. He also informed them that he should himself adhere constantly and firmly to the policy of carrying out its stipulations; and he exhorted them to bear in mind what he had just said and to spare no pains to discharge their own duties with[433] moderation and efficiency. The officials, in their turn, congratulated the Resident-General upon his brilliant success, and promised their co-operation in the new plans now before them.

The Agreement of July 24, 1907, definitively places the enactment of all laws and ordinances, the administration of all important Korean Government affairs, and all official appointments which relate to internal administration, under the control of the Japanese Resident-General. Its preamble renews the assertion which has governed the policy of Marquis Ito throughout—namely, that the motive is to be found in “the early attainment of the prosperity and strength of Korea,” and the “speedy promotion of the welfare of the Korean people.” Moreover, it pledges the Korean Government to keep judicial affairs distinct from administrative affairs. With regard to the appointment and dismissal of officials of the higher rank, whether native or foreign, it is specified that the consent of the Resident-General must be secured; and also that his recommendations for the appointment of Japanese to official positions shall be followed. Taken in connection with the Convention of November, 1905, therefore, the present condition of Korea is undoubtedly that of a country completely dependent upon Japan for both internal government and also for commercial and diplomatic relations with all foreign countries. For the present the autonomy of Korea, except so far as it is preserved in certain customs and laws which even the source of control would be forced to regard, and in the nominal preservation of the Korean crown and its Cabinet Ministers, is suspended. The native government can suggest, propose, and assimilate suggestions and proposals; but they can neither initiate nor control in important affairs without the consent of the representative of Japan. On the other hand, the plans and proposals of the Japanese Resident-General must be accepted[434] and carried out under his supervision and ultimate control.[108]

The clause in the new Convention which gave most offence to the official classes and to the Yang-bans generally in Korea was that which opened the door, per force as it were, to the appointment of Japanese to all kinds of official positions in the peninsula. Although it has been the declared policy of the present Resident-General to retain the Korean Cabinet Ministers, the agreement plainly makes it easily possible for the Japanese Government to treat desirable appointments in Korea as freely in the interests of its own countrymen as is possible for the British Government in British India. The pledge, however, to maintain the Imperial House in the nominal possession of the crown, and in the show of authority and dignity which go with this possession, appears still to be binding upon Japan. From this time onward, the Resident-General becomes the uncrowned king of Korea.

In spite of this, and of all the other features of these reformed relations which might seem offensive and humiliating to Korean officialdom, it is altogether likely that no considerable disturbance would anywhere have taken place, had it not been for the action of the same disorderly and rebellious factors which occasioned the bloodshed and confusion of Friday, July 19th.[109] These were the Korean troops belonging[435] to the barracks at Seoul. Let it be distinctly understood that these troops were not disciplined soldiers; much less were they sincere though misguided patriots. They were largely untrained rowdies, who cared chiefly for the pay, prestige, and idle life which their employment as so-called palace guards gave to them. At the time of the conclusion of the Convention an understanding probably existed between the Resident-General and the Korean Ministry, who were themselves threatened with assassination and the defeat of all their work by these same armed and unscrupulous fellows, that the Korean army should be disbanded.

Late on Wednesday night, July 31st, an Imperial rescript was issued which ordered the disbandment of the Korean Army. The reason assigned was the necessity of economizing all superfluous expenses and applying the funds thus saved to material improvement. The existing army was called “mercenaries”[110] and said to be “unfit for purposes of national defense.” The intention was announced to remodel the entire military system and, for the present time, to attend chiefly to the training of officers for a national army in the future. A small select force was to be retained as guardians of the Imperial House, and a gratuity in money was to be bestowed upon every one of the disbanded troops, according to rank. All the reasons here given for this action were quite in accordance with the facts; but the most important of all was, of course, concealed—namely, that the existing army was the[436] most serious of all menaces to good order and to peace. It was sure to be the tool, for purposes of assassination, of the reactionary party.

Early the following morning—Thursday, July 31st—the superior officers were summoned to the residence of General Hasegawa, where General Yi, the Korean Minister of War, read to them the rescript of disbandment. After conference it was decided that the non-commissioned officers and men of all the battalions in Seoul should be marched without arms to the parade ground inside the East Gate of the city and there be dismissed after receiving their gratuities from the Emperor. They were to be present for this purpose by ten o’clock of the same morning. Soon after eight o’clock, as the Japanese instructor of the Korean Army was engaged, in its barracks, in drawing up the first battalion of the First Korean Regiment, a great noise of weeping and groaning was heard, and the fact was made known that its commander had committed suicide. This was the signal for the springing up of a great excitement, during which the troops broke their ranks and threatened the Japanese officer with a murderous attack. The mutiny spread at once to another battalion occupying adjoining barracks. The mutineers then proceeded to break open the magazines and, arming themselves, they rushed out of the barracks. They thereupon posted sentinels around the barracks where the majority of the forces still remained, who began to fire aimless shots from within upon the passers-by. Meantime some of the troops ran away.

From this centre the mutiny spread, the mutineers rushing out from the barracks to fire upon the Japanese officers who were conducting to the parade ground the other Korean battalions; but soon after the appointed time of ten o’clock all the Korean forces had reported there, with the exception of the two mutinous battalions. The reduction of the mutinous[437] soldiers was no easy matter, for the main force was entrenched behind stone walls near the centre of the city, and the Japanese forces attacking them were much embarrassed by being fired upon by those of the number who had rushed out from the barracks. But the use of several machine guns—two of which, after being planted on the wall of the Great South Gate, were trained so as to cover the advance of the Japanese infantry—and a hand-to-hand fight with bayonets and hand-grenades at the barracks soon reduced the mutinous Korean soldiers. By 10.50 A. M. the barracks were completely in the hands of the Japanese. The casualties as estimated in the official report of General Hasegawa were, on the side of the Japanese, 3 killed, and 2 officers and 20 men wounded; on the side of the Koreans, 11 officers and 57 men killed, and 100 officers and men wounded. Korean officers and men, to the number of 516, were taken prisoners. The best possible care was given to the wounded, both Koreans and Japanese, in the government and missionary hospitals—Marquis Ito, and his suite, and the prominent Japanese ladies belonging to the Red Cross Society and Patriotic Associations, visiting them in the hospitals and making generous contributions to their assistance and comfort.

In one respect, however, the Japanese military authorities made a mistake which their hostile critics were not slow to seize upon and exaggerate to the discredit of their management generally. It appears that the services of some thirty civilians were volunteered and accepted to assist the police and soldiers in searching for the fugitive mutineers. Much bad blood had been stirred up between the two nationalities by the previous unprovoked attack and murder of the Japanese police at the hands of mutinous Korean soldiers. In the spirit of vengeance, therefore, there was no doubt considerable return of excesses on the part of irresponsible individuals among the Japanese civilian volunteers. Otherwise, the very[438] trying situation in which these revolts of the Korean military forces placed the Japanese Government in Seoul was apparently met with commendable moderation and skill.

One of the most noteworthy features of this entire disturbance was the complete aloofness of the people of Seoul from any hostile demonstration toward the Japanese. Within forty-eight hours of this battle between their own disbanded troops and the foreign military, the city resumed its normal appearance; the people went about their accustomed occupations; the full tide of business began to flow as usual. Such behavior as this, under anything resembling similar conditions, has seldom or never before characterized the populace of Seoul. It must be interpreted as a hopeful sign for the future good order and prosperity of the city.

The disbandment of the Korean provincial garrisons for the most part proceeded quietly. But the disbanded soldiers in considerable numbers allied themselves with other elements of riot and unrest, and local disturbances of a more or less serious character continued to break out and demand suppression by the police and the military, here and there in various parts of the peninsula. This state of things continued for weeks and, in a diminishing degree, for months following the Convention of July, 1907. But the detailed account of these transactions does not concern our narrative. Under the circumstances they may be considered as temporary but unavoidable incidents in the practical solution of this complex and difficult historical problem of the relations to be established between Japan and Korea. Among the mutinous and riotous outbreaks that at Kang-wha Island—the scene in the past of so many acute conflicts between Korea and foreign nations—was typical and also, perhaps, one of the most important. When the Japanese captain in command of a detachment of Japanese troops, and accompanied by the Korean commander of the native battalion at Suwon, arrived[439] to disband the Korean garrison and to distribute the gratuities, they were met by a shower of bullets poured upon them while landing on the island. The Korean mutineers retreated to the city of Kang-wha, where they were joined by some 300 rioters. Under cover of the city walls they offered a somewhat stubborn resistance to the attacking forces, but were finally dislodged and fled in various directions. It was afterward learned that the Korean troops, in defiance of their own officers, had broken open the military magazine, murdered the magistrate of the island and several policemen, and had then forced some hundreds of the citizens, by threats of death, to join with them in fighting the Japanese. When the real fighting began, they ran away.

The procedure at Kang-wha, we repeat, was typical. It is a specimen of the Korean ancestral way of resisting every form of government. The method of these “patriotic” uprisings was everywhere similar. Several score or hundreds of Koreans, stirred and led by the disbanded soldiers, came together, killed the Japanese—old men, women, and children—as well as the police officials, shot some of their own countrymen, chiefly those suspected of not being sufficiently violent in their anti-Japanese sentiments, burned and plundered indiscriminately; and then when the Japanese military or police approached in any formidable numbers they ran away and hid themselves. In view of these disturbed conditions and the alleged connection of some of their converts with these uprisings, the missionaries were anew placed in a difficult and delicate situation. This, however, like the greater number of similar previous trials, was not primarily due to the Japanese Protectorate, but to the Koreans themselves—Emperor, officials, and common people. There were numerous plausible charges made against the missionaries and their converts of harboring Korean rioters and even of lending countenance to the rioting under the pretence of[440] patriotism. There can be little doubt, however, that these charges were, almost if not quite without exception, either misunderstandings or malicious falsehoods. The misunderstandings were, in view of the past, not altogether unreasonable; the falsehoods were such as are encountered by the religious teacher wherever he seems to stand in the way of unlimited greed or unchecked violence. On the whole, as has already been said, there can be no doubt that the missionaries and their Korean converts exerted a notable influence in favor of quietness, peace, and the observance of law and order. That the native Christians were alarmed, and stood in fear both of the Japanese and of their own countrymen, was a thing to be expected. But probably their experience in this time of trial with the behavior of these foreign policemen and soldiers tended to diminish the native dislike and dread of the Japanese Protectorate.

At once the strength of the reform party among the Koreans themselves began to make itself felt under the terms of the new Convention. On the date of August 15th an Imperial rescript forbade boys under seventeen years of age, and girls under fifteen, from contracting marriages. The same day the new Emperor proclaimed the purpose, which he afterward carried out, to cut his hair on the occasion of his formal accession to the throne and to dress himself in military uniform from that time. The ex-Emperor, in spite of the fact that he had formerly been glad to see his people excited to rebellion and murder by a similar proposal for changing the fashion of the Korean gentleman’s head-dress, and in spite also of the fact that weeping eunuchs and ancient Court officials besought him not to proceed to such lengths in breaking with the past, actually did subsequently join in the new custom. And when the deed was done, His ex-Majesty was pleased to command the objectors to do likewise, and to say for himself that the change was really not half so[441] bad as he had thought it would be. Now, although these are not trivial matters in Korea, or mere straws which show the way of the blowing of the wind, a more important result of the new Convention was this: after due deliberation, the Cabinet Ministers decided that the young son of Lady Om who had already been proclaimed Crown Prince, must in future really attend to his lessons and become educated in some manner befitting his future expectations. Although it was doubted whether His Imperial Highness was not still too young to go to Japan for study, he was required to begin the study of the Japanese language in addition to English and Chinese. Left to the influence of the eunuchs and palace women, he was sure to be debauched and ruined. Educated, he may easily make the best sovereign Korea has enjoyed for centuries.

At once also the Resident-General began to mature the larger plans for carrying out his purposes toward Korea which the new Convention made possible. For now upon the Japanese Government in Korea rested the responsibility, not only for the satisfactory and safe management of the country’s foreign relations, but directly and more heavily than ever before, the readjustment, reform, and successful management of all its internal affairs. To report to the Emperor of Japan, and to consult with His Majesty and with the Japanese Government about the form and successful execution of the measures made necessary or desirable by the new Convention, Marquis Ito paid a visit to his native land. Leaving Seoul by special train for Chemulpo on the afternoon of August 11th, His Excellency arrived at Oiso five days later; and on the Tuesday following, August 20th, received at Shimbashi Station in Tokyo a reception, both by the official class and by the crowds, such as has seldom or never been accorded to a civilian before in the history of Japan. The reception given to him by the Emperor, who had sent an[442] Imperial Chamberlain to intimate his desire to consult with the Resident-General, was scarcely less unique.

In the many public addresses which followed, at the various banquets and receptions given to the Marquis, he took pains to make it perfectly clear that his benevolent intentions toward the Korean people had in no respect suffered a change. Of himself he declared that he was neither elated in spirit over the success of the new treaty, nor depressed in spirit before the new difficulties which must be encountered. He wished his countrymen to remember that the Korean problem was not political, not one of the successful exploitation of a weaker nation by a stronger, but a question of that policy which should be for the highest interests and best welfare of both nations. The need of the hour was the need of men—both Japanese and Koreans—who could stand in the places of responsibility and influence, and discharge their duties faithfully, honestly, unselfishly. The work which he had undertaken to do in Korea was only a beginning; and on account of advancing age he must soon let it go from his hand. At present, however, he was in harness and must remain so. When the time came for him to resign, he hoped sincerely that some able and wise successor in the office—now so increasingly responsible—of Japanese Resident-General in Korea might somewhere be found.

This historical and critical sketch of the relations between the two nations of Japan and Korea fitly closes with the visit of Marquis—now Prince—Ito to Tokyo in August of 1907. The results to follow from the plans which were then matured for the administration of the offices of the Residency-General and for the more ultimate solution of the delicate and complex problem of bringing about a state of affairs which shall at the same time redeem Korea and deliver Japan from the constant menace which the peninsula has hitherto been—and not only this, but shall bind the two nations together[443] in a common prosperity under terms of friendship and good-will, are destined to form important items in the future history of the Far East. It remains only to add that no one who could have heard the firm and feeling-full declaration made to the writer by His Excellency when the latter was on the eve of returning to Seoul, would question the wisdom, honesty, or benevolence of the Japanese Resident-General in Korea. As fast and far as he can have his way, this long-time misgoverned and wretched nation will be reformed and uplifted to an unwonted economical and political prosperity.

The rôle of the prophet in his predictive function, and with reference to the destiny of nations, is always a delicate and dangerous part to play. The danger is particularly great when the complex and largely unfamiliar ideas and emotions of Oriental peoples constitute the controlling factors in the situation; it is made still greater at the present time, as regards the future of the Far East, by the increasing admixture of foreign and Western influences. Above all, however, is the situation complicated by the unsettled and totally uncertain condition of China. Here are countless millions of an industrious, patient, and thrifty, but almost incredibly ignorant and superstitious, population; corrupt and intriguing official classes and an essentially foreign Court; indefinitely great resources of soil and mines, and an almost limitless capacity for foreign trade, which makes it the coveted territory for exploiting schemes by both European and Asiatic nations. Into this hitherto relatively inert mass the ferment of new conceptions of civilization and of life, of the things which are worth the having and which may be had, if men will struggle and fight for them, is now being everywhere introduced. The restlessness of feeling, with its stimulus to violence, which has formerly resulted for the most part in local uprisings against excessive squeezing from their own officials, or against too obvious interference with their ancient institutions and present material interests by foreigners, is now taking the form of a purpose which may[445] quickly change, and by bloody revolution if necessary, the character of the Chinese Government and even the nature of Chinese characteristic civilization. What will be the effect of all this upon the entire Far East, is a question which would require of any student of history a bold, an audacious front to answer in a confident tone.[111]

In this uncertainty as to the future of the Far East, Korea shares, as a matter of course, to a large extent. For, even now that certain important factors in the problem of the Japanese Protectorate over Korea seem to be relatively stable, the problem as a whole remains exceedingly difficult and complex. How will Japan succeed in solving this problem? Will it be by the way of developing the material resources of the land, on the whole peacefully, and chiefly for the benefit of the Koreans themselves; of reforming the economic, administrative, and judicial condition of the common people; and of making a foreign rule to be esteemed a blessing rather than an odious imposition? Or, will it be by the way of reducing Korea to a condition of virtual vassalage, and of making its people a dissatisfied nation, ever ready for revolt and only kept down from successful revolt by the strong arm of a foreign police and a foreign military force? Will Japan really succeed in solving this problem at all? All suggestions in answer to these and similar questions are of value only as they are rendered more or less probable in view of such facts[446] as those to which attention has been directed in the preceding chapters of this book.

The future of Korea and of the Japanese Protectorate over Korea will inevitably depend upon the action and reaction of three classes of factors. These are the attitude and behavior of other foreign nations; the native capacity for self-government and the actual conduct of the Koreans themselves; and the policy of Japan, not as a theory or an experiment merely, but as embodied in industries, laws, institutions and other forms of practical effect.

In all past time, but especially during the last half-century, the relations of Japan and Korea have been chiefly determined by the attitude and behavior of other foreign nations, both toward and within the Korean peninsula. It was the desire of Japan to get at China through Korea, and the determination of the Chinese Government to resist and thwart this desire, and to retain for itself the supremacy in the control of Korean affairs, which brought about the invasion of Hideyoshi, with its persistent train of consequences lasting well down into modern times. Until the end of the Chino-Japan war, and especially in the events of 1882 and 1884, as well as in those events which immediately preceded the war, it was what China did or proposed to do, which formed the principal influence to determine the relations of Japan and Korea. After this war had definitively and finally delivered the peninsula from all Chinese claims to suzerainty, or even to predominating influence, it was chiefly the attitude and actions of Russia which decided the more active relations of Japanese to the Korean Government. France and Germany at the close of the war with China, and France during the period just preceding the war with Russia, exercised considerable influence—of a less obvious and direct character, however—upon the relations of these two governments. During the last three or four years which cover the period that began[447] toward the close of the Russo-Japanese campaigns, Great Britain and the United States have powerfully, but for the most part indirectly, affected the newer relations that have been in the process of forming between Japan and Korea. The Government of Great Britain has been the fair ally and sensible counsellor of the Japanese Government; the United States, while maintaining an official attitude distinctly favorable to giving the Residency-General a “free hand” for his plans to accomplish reforms in Korea, has been, by complicity of some of its private citizens with a false and corrupt Emperor, a no inconsiderable source of embarrassment. The same thing would have to be said of some of the British residents in Korea.

Recent Treaties and Conventions with Great Britain, France, and Russia, have now, however, made it as certain as anything in the political future of human affairs can well be, that none of these powerful nations will for some years to come interfere in the policy or administration of the Japanese Protectorate in Korea. So far as their action is concerned, Japan has only to maintain her pledges of “equal opportunity,” the “open door,” and “hands-off” from China for purposes of plundering its territory, and she may now try without foreign interference her plans for the improvement of her relations with this hitherto most troublesome neighbor. Indeed, the way in which the Convention of July, 1907, with its increase of legal rights to control the internal administration and reshape the entire code and economic and social system of the Korean peninsula, has been received by the Powers generally, shows that no formidable objection from without would be raised if Japan should substitute out-and-out annexation for the now-existing Protectorate. The four great nations whose territorial possessions give them a supreme interest in the Far East, have already formally accepted the existing situation; there is less and less likelihood[448] of meddling, as authorized by other European or American nations, on the part of their diplomatic representatives.

Furthermore, in Korea itself, those squabbles with foreigners which have arisen out of conflicting promoting schemes and claims to concessions, since order is being rapidly brought out of the confusion they have occasioned, are likely to cut less of a figure in the future. The anti-Japanese missionaries and other foreign residents in Seoul are being either won over, or their complaints silenced, by the policy of the Residency-General. If the criticisms of the dealings of Japan with Korea were much more just and severe, they would not be likely to involve international complications of any serious magnitude. Only China remains—huge, mysterious, incalculable both for good and for evil, a vast overhanging cloud, with here and there a flash of lightning or streak of sunlight shining through. But for some time to come it is altogether unlikely that the Celestial Empire will be able, however willing, to re-establish any claims to a dominating influence, much less to a restored suzerainty, in the Korean peninsula. This first class of factors, which have been so influential and even determinative in the past, may therefore not improperly be eliminated in making up one’s calculations as to the probable future. In other words, the issue will now be determined by the behavior toward each other of the two peoples immediately concerned. Japanese and Koreans will now be allowed to work out the problem of the relations—for the weal or for the woe of both peoples—to exist and prove effective between Japan and Korea.

What shall be said, however, as to the part which the Korean Government and the Korean people themselves are likely to contribute toward solving the difficult and intricate problem of the future relations of the two nations? The basis for a plausible answer to this question must be found in an estimate of the material resources of Korea and in a[449] calculation as to the share which the Koreans are destined to have in the improved conditions brought about by the development of these resources. It has already been shown that the soil of the peninsula, under improved methods of cultivation, can easily be made to support double the existing population. Reforestation and proper treatment of the forests remaining can easily supply this increased population with fuel and with timber. The introduction of new crops, and the increase of the products of cotton and silk, the fostering of such forms of manufacture as are fitted to the country, and the development of the mines, can just as easily be made to place this two-folded population in circumstances of greatly increased comfort and prosperity. And with it all will go, of course, the building up of foreign trade and the securing of all the benefits that follow in its train. But who will actually possess the fruits of this development; will it be the Koreans themselves, or the Japanese immigrants?

So far as the answer to this question depends upon the enactment and the enforcement of a just legal code—the right to an equal chance, and security of this right if only the man is able to seize and improve it—the Japanese Residency-General is solemnly pledged and actually committed. But laws, courts, educational institutions, and banking facilities cannot do everything. After all these, and in the midst of all these, there is the man—his physical and mental characteristics, his moral and spiritual impulses. Overwhelming Japanese immigration is perhaps, then, greatly to be dreaded by the Koreans, even when the former can no longer take from the latter by fraud or by violence. The dread, however, that the Koreans will be supplanted by the Japanese would seem by no means to be wholly warranted in view of existing facts. The actual native population of the Korean peninsula is difficult to ascertain; but the latest census, taken in the[450] spring of 1907, shows that it was probably greatly overestimated by the previous statistics. This census gave the numbers as 9,638,578 people inhabiting 2,322,457 houses. A census of the Japanese population in Korea, January 31, 1907, returned the figures of 81,657 in all, of which 31,754 were females. As compared with the returns for March 31, 1906, this census showed an increase of about 20,000 in the non-official Japanese population (a calculation not differing greatly from that based upon the returns of the steamship agency at Fusan, see p. 143 f.). Making allowance for those immigrants who failed to register, we may calculate that not far from 100,000 Japanese, exclusive of the army and the civil officials, were resident in Korea during the summer of 1907. The great majority of these immigrants were traders, artisans, and common laborers; but an increasing number of Japanese farmers were settling, especially in the fertile valleys of Kyung-sang-do and Cholla-do. Of these traders, artisans, and common laborers, many are engaged in building Japanese houses and in construction work on the Japanese railways; by no means all such immigrants are likely to become permanent residents in Korea. With the farmers the case is not the same.

Is the annual rate of Japanese immigration into Korea likely to increase greatly in the future? No one can tell positively; but the negative answer seems much the more likely. The day of temptation to the mere adventurer is largely gone by; the Koreans themselves are likely to become acquainted with the way of doing things as the Japanese demand requires they should be done, and then many of these foreign traders, artisans, and laborers will have their places taken by Koreans. Formosa, Manchuria, and Hokkaido are rivals of Korea for the Japanese agriculturists and other kinds of permanent settlers; South America and other countries offer greater inducements to the emigration companies.[451] Moreover, at about the same time that the results of these censuses were published, a local paper in Seoul published the birth and death statistics of the Japanese colony there. These statistics showed that during the previous year there had been an excess of deaths over births among the Japanese in Seoul. Of births there were 312—187 male and 125 female, while the deaths amounted to a total of 464—308 male and 156 female. And yet there are few old people, and almost none who came as invalids, in this foreign population.

Let it be supposed, however, that the annual net increase of Japanese population in Korea amounts to 20,000 for the next fifty years. There will then be only somewhat more than one million of this now foreign population. But meantime the Korean peninsula will have become quite capable of supporting double its present native population. Besides this, there are those—to the opinion of whom the present writer is strongly inclined—who feel confident that fifty years from now the distinction between Korean and Japanese, among the common people, will be very nearly, if not quite completely, wiped out. And, indeed, the two nations are of essentially the same derivation, so far as their dominant strains of ancestral blood are concerned; and great as are the present differences between the Japanese in Japan and the Koreans in Korea, there is no real reason why both Japanese and Koreans should not become essentially one people in Korea.

There is then, it would seem, no essential and permanent reason of a material sort why Korea should not remain Korean in its principal features, if the next half-century shows the expected results in its material development. We have seen that the present Residency-General is committed to the policy of developing the land in the behalf of its own inhabitants, while according all just and natural rights, and all reasonable[452] encouragement, to foreign immigration and to foreign capital. Again, however, the same decisive but as yet unanswered questions return: Can the Court be purified? Can an honest and efficient Korean official class be secured, trained, and supported by the nation? Can that middle class—which is in all modern nations the source of the controlling economic and moral factors—be constituted out of the body of the Korean people? And, finally, can the great multitude, the Korean populace, be made more intelligent, law-abiding, and morally sound?

As to the purification of the Court at Seoul under the ex-Emperor, and so far as his influence could be extended—such a thing was found impossible by the Resident-General. Warnings, advice, experience of evil results—all were of no avail. This weak and corrupt nature would not free itself from its environment of sorceresses, eunuchs, soothsayers, and selfish or desperate, corrupt, and low-lived native and foreign advisers; and without the conversion of the Emperor, under the former conditions, the Court could not be made more intelligent, honest and patriotic. So long and so far as the ex-Emperor can exercise his parental influence upon the present Emperor in national affairs, the part which the Court plays in the redemption of the nation will be comparatively small. But this influence is now broken; and the measures which are being taken wholly to nullify it can scarcely fail to succeed. If it becomes necessary, His ex-Majesty can be given a residence remote from Seoul. The Convention of July, 1907, gives to the Japanese Resident-General a hitherto impossible control over the entourage of the Emperor. It is therefore altogether unlikely that any future ruler of Korea, even if he should wish to follow this bad example, this most disastrous precedent, will be able to rival for mischief his predecessors, by way of encouraging fraud, violence, and sedition at home, and foreign misunderstandings and interferences[453] through the help of unwise or unscrupulous “foreign friends.” Moreover, the present Emperor, so far as can be judged by the brief experience under his rule, is either not disposed, or not able, to continue the evil practices of his Imperial ancestor. The proposals for reform brought before His Korean Majesty seem now to meet with neither open nor secret opposition. Best of all, the palace horde of evil men and women is being reduced from within, and excluded from without; and this, in the absence of complaints and petitions for pity, sent over the civilized world, from the royal “prisoner” under a blood-thirsty Japanese guard! Thus there is solid ground on which to build hopes of a far less corrupt, a much more intelligent and honest, Korean Court.

That honorable and brave leaders—generals, civil rulers, magistrates, and judges—can come out of Korean ancestry, there is the evidence of history to show. True, the number of such leaders, through all the past centuries of Korea’s sad and disgraceful career, has been relatively small. But, as has been repeatedly pointed out, this fact has been largely due to the corrupt official system, and the ever-present corrupting influence, which has come from across the Yellow Sea—that is, from China. The Cabinet officials who had to meet the severely trying emergency which ended with the abdication of the Emperor, a new Convention with Japan, and the pacification of a people much given over to local disorders and to the spreading of the spirit of riot and sedition, on the whole acquitted themselves well. It is, indeed, difficult to see how they could have done better for the country under the existing circumstances. That timber can be grown in Korea, out of which may be hewn in the future enough material for a sound and fair official edifice, there is, we think, no good reason to doubt. Under the recent Convention the responsibility for framing laws, policing the country, securing order, appointing a just[454] and intelligent magistracy, as well as developing schools and industries and arts, rests primarily upon the Japanese Government. If moderation and wisdom can be secured here, a sufficient force of native official helpers and partners in all the benevolent projects of the Marquis Ito can probably in due time also be secured. In order, however, that Japanese and Korean officials should co-operate heartily, and should live and work together in peace, it is necessary that the underlying principle of their co-operation should be not selfish, but controlled by devotion to duty and by an intelligent and sincere desire to secure the welfare of both nations. Only such high motives can unite men of different nationalities, or even of the same nation, in works of economic reform and moral improvement. This is only to say that in Korea, as everywhere else in the ancient and the modern world alike, the real and lasting success of the government must depend upon its intelligence and its righteousness. It is to be hoped that the capacity for both these essential classes of qualifications for self-government is in the Korean blood, if only it can have tuition, example, and freedom for development.

With the improvement of the economic and industrial conditions in Korea, and especially with the enlarged opportunities for foreign commerce, a fairly intelligent and well-to-do middle class population is likely to result from the Japanese Protectorate. This class is in a process of evolution in Japan itself. It is essentially the product, “natural”—so to say—where public schools exist and thrive, and where the conditions are favorable to manufacture, trade, and agriculture on any large scale. But especially is such a class one of the most sure and valuable results of a more highly moral and spiritual religion. Christianity distinctly favors, when it becomes practically operative, the formation of a middle class. In Korea hitherto there have been only, as a rule, corrupt and oppressive rulers and officials, and ignorant,[455] oppressed, and degraded multitudes. The foundation of schools of the modern type, especially for technical and manual training, and the spread of Christianity, will, almost inevitably, combine to raise a body of thrifty, fairly intelligent, and upright, self-respecting citizens. This will go far toward solving the problem of the reform and redemption of Korea.

As to the destiny of considerable numbers of the lower orders of the people, that is perhaps unavoidably true which has been said of the Korean farmers: “A large percentage of them are past all hope of salvation.” The professional robbers and beggars, the riotous “pedlers,” the seditious among the disbanded troops or the “tiger hunters,” the wild and savage inhabitants of the mountainous regions, the people who live by thieving, counterfeiting, soothsaying, divining, and other illicit ways, will have to submit, reform, or be exterminated. Doubtless, many of them will prefer to be exterminated. But our examination of the previous chapters encourages and confirms the hope that something much better than this is possible for the great multitude of the peasants among the Korean people. Marquis Ito has set his heart on helping this class toward a much improved condition. The promise of this he has distinctly affirmed in both private and public addresses, and has indeed done all that he possibly could to confirm. It is this also upon which every true-hearted missionary is most intently bent. For it was to these same multitudes—sheep without a shepherd—that Jesus came; on their uplift and salvation he set his heart. It would be contrary to the experience of the centuries to suppose that an enlightened form of education and a spiritual religion could combine in the effort to raise the multitudes of any nation, without resulting in a large measure of success.

It would seem, then, that the responsibility for a successful and relatively permanent solution of the difficult problem[456] offered by the geographical, historical and other important relations of Japan and Korea, under the now existing Convention between the two governments, rests most heavily upon the Japanese themselves. They have at last “a free hand”; the material with which they have to deal in order to construct a new and improved national structure is, indeed, in bad and largely unsound condition; but it is not hopeless, and it is not radically deficient in the qualities necessary for a sound and durable structure. Korea is, inherently considered, capable of reform; but at present it is not capable of self-government, much less of self-instituted and wholly self-controlled reform. Japan has taken upon herself the task of furnishing example, stimulus, guidance, and effective forces, to set this desirable ideal into reality. No other nation has this task; no other nation is going seriously to interfere with Japan in its task. On the Japanese Government and the Japanese people rests the heavy responsibility of securing a new and greatly improved national life for the millions of the Korean peninsula; if they succeed, to them will chiefly be the praise and the profit; if they fail, to them will chiefly be the shame and the loss. At present, and in the near future, it is the last of these three sets of determining factors—namely, the policy and practice of Japan herself with reference to Korea—which will have the final word to say in the solution of this difficult problem. The judgment of the civilized world is already pronounced upon this matter. Korea has already been judged impotent and unworthy to be trusted with the management either of her own internal affairs or of her relations to other nations in the Far East and in the world at large. Japan has been judged to be most favorably situated and, for the protection of her own interests, best entitled to undertake and to carry through the reform and reconstitution of Korea. Japan also will in the future be judged, by the judgment of the civilized[457] world and by the verdict of history, according to the way in which she fulfils her duties, and accomplishes her task, in Korea.

Will Japan prove equal to the management and the development of the internal resources, civil government, and foreign relations, of her weaker neighbor in such a way as to command the title to a righteous and genuine success? No one can answer this question with a perfect confidence. In many important respects the present is an exceedingly critical time for the Japanese Government and the Japanese nation in respect of the condition of its own internal affairs. The same thing is true of Japan’s relations to foreign nations. The army and navy deserved and won praise from all the civilized world for its bravery, skill, and moderation in the last war. And after the war terminated in a treaty of peace which, while it was at the time wisely made on the part of the real leaders of the nation, was exceedingly disappointing to the military and naval forces and to the people at large, the whole of Japan, with the exception of few and brief demonstrations of resentment, obeyed the wise counsels and injunctions of His Imperial Majesty, its Emperor. In obedience to these injunctions the nation turned quietly and diligently to the pursuits of peace. But in these pursuits Japan is by no means so far advanced, when judged by modern standards, as she was in the preparation for, and conduct of, war both by land and by sea. In manufactures and every form of industry, in trade and commerce, in the devising and management of the means of communication, in education, science, and literature—everywhere in these lines of peaceful national activity there is a great deficiency of trained and trustworthy helpers, even for the supply of her own immediate needs. In all these matters of national interest and import, the cry of her leaders is for the right sort of men. How, then, shall Japan at the present juncture supply in sufficient numbers[458] the workmen to meet the needs of the hour in the reform and uplift of Korea?

Moreover, as the nation of Japan advances in these many lines, it is inevitable that it should meet the same difficulties, embarrassments, and dangers which in yet severer form are testing the leading nations of Europe and America. Trusts and labor unions—both likely to become the enemies of the Empire as they have so largely in the United States become the enemies of the Republic—are already growing apace. Even more, perhaps, than anywhere else outside of Russia and parts of Germany, insane theories of ethics, philosophy, and religion, are captivating the minds, and controlling the conduct, of not a few of her students and other young men. As in the United States, especially, but also in all the countries of Europe, the old-fashioned parental control and discipline of the home-life is being greatly relaxed. The over-estimate of so-called science and the conceit of modernity are working mischief in the character of not a few. And the life of the millions of the people is not yet lifted to the higher grades of morality and religion.

With regard to the right national policy toward Korea there has also been, as we have seen, a long-standing difference of opinion. This difference still exists, although it was for the time submerged by the tide of enthusiastic approval which welcomed the policy of Marquis Ito when, under the grant of liberty of action from His Imperial Majesty, with the consent of the Elder Statesmen, and the co-operation of Minister Hayashi, the Convention of July, 1907, was successfully concluded. Many of the military leaders, however, continue to favor a more punitive and war-like attitude toward any resistance on the part of the Koreans. The mailed fist, with its threats, rather than the open palm, with its promise of friendly assistance, seems to them better fitted to the situation. And it can never be expected that there will be a cessation[459] of the desires and efforts of that crowd of Japanese adventurers, promoters, and unscrupulous traders, who are as ready to make game of the resources of Korea as are the smaller number of no less selfish foreigners residing in the peninsula but claiming the protection for their schemes of other nationalities. Of the two, the latter are in not a few cases much the more difficult to deal with in a manner satisfactory both to the honor of the Japanese Protectorate and also to the interests of the Korean people. All these schemers, as a matter of course, have scanty faith in the slow and patient methods of education, economic and judicial reform, which are deliberately chosen and persistently followed by the present Residency-General.

Such tendencies as those just mentioned undoubtedly make it more difficult to predict with confidence the success of Japan in the task of building up a strong and healthy national existence out of the so largely dead and decayed material furnished to its hand. But there are other tendencies, and other forms of influence, now existing and growing in vigor among the Japanese of to-day, which strongly encourage the hopeful view. The nation emerged from the war with Russia in much more sober and thoughtful frame of mind than that which followed upon the close of the Chino-Japan war. The enormous losses of life, and the heavy debt left upon them by the expenditure of treasure, tended to keep down the self-conceit and headiness which might have followed an easier victory. And in spite of the immediate disadvantages growing out of the fact that the terms of the Treaty of Portsmouth fell so far below their expectations, and below what seemed to them at the time their just deserts, it was probably best in the preparation for their future enterprises and struggles to have the war end as it did. Of the sincere desire of Japan for peace with the whole world, no one who knows the nation can have the slightest honest doubt.

There has also been a great awakening of interest in moral problems since the Russo-Japanese war. This interest is not confined to any one class. In all the Government schools, of every description, especial attention is being given to ethics. This is the one study which is kept most constantly before the minds of the pupils, from the earliest stages of their training to the end of the graduate courses in the university. Aware of the unworthy reputation of its business men, in respect of business morality, the commercial schools, higher and lower, government and private, are placing emphasis upon the side of moral instruction and discipline in preparation for business life. The men, now past middle life, who were trained to the respect for honor and the feelings of devotion which characterized the Samurai (or Puritan knights) of the old régime, and who have been the inspirers and guides of all that has been best in the “New Japan,” are still, though they are growing old and fewer in number, controlling the destinies of the nation. They have the confidence of His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Japan, who steadily throws the great weight of his influence upon the side which favors combining these ancient virtues with a modern education. Among the men in middle life there still lingers, indeed, much of those influences and practices which have cost the New Japan so dearly, in loss of reputation and of failure to make good use of some of her choicest opportunities. But the new and better spirit is most conspicuous with the younger educated men; the boys and girls in the public schools are receiving a form of education and discipline which, considering Japan’s poverty and newness of resources, surpasses that of any other country in the civilized world. Moreover, the ear of the nation is open to religion as never before in its history. This increased feeling of need, and this higher estimate of the value of an improved morality and a more spiritual religion, together with the arousing and[461] directing of the nation’s energies into the development of its material resources and its foreign trade, are the distinctive features of the national life of the Japanese at the present time.

There is another thing about the temperament of the Japanese which is often of most powerful influence, and yet most difficult for foreigners to appreciate. This is the force of sentimental considerations, which frequently triumph over those considerations that are regarded by other peoples as of more importance in practical affairs. Already, the sentiments of generosity, of pity, and of a sort of condescending kindness, have triumphed in the management of Korean affairs by the Japanese. The history of the relations of the two countries has amply illustrated this fact. These sentiments, which are certainly dominant to a large extent with the Residency-General, when reënforced by the growing respect for morality and religion, will—it seems fair to suppose—be even more powerful in the future.

Still further, Japan has successfully overcome many enormous difficulties, and has bravely and well met many most threatening emergencies, during the last fifty years. Over and over again during this period, her case has seemed almost desperate. But each time the nation has rallied and has climbed upward to a higher and better level in its national life. True, this has been due, to a large extent, to the wisdom and skill of the men who have thus far led the nation. And they are passing off the stage. That the younger spirits who are coming on will serve their day with equal courage, wisdom, and success, is our hope and our belief. Then there will be assured the third and most important class of the factors which, in their combination with the other two, will secure the new, redeemed Korea in friendly relations, in amity and unity, with Japan, her benefactor as well as her protector.

There is no essential reason why Japanese and Koreans should not become one nation in Korea. Whether this nation will be called Korea or Japan, time alone can tell. That it will be a happier, more prosperous, more moral and truly religious people than the present Korean people, there is sufficient reason to predict. Indeed, considering the brief time which has elapsed since the Convention of November 17, 1905, the improvement already accomplished under the control of the Japanese Residency-General, if not all that could be wished, has been all that could reasonably have been expected. The two peoples have learned to live peacefully and happily together, in certain places, both of Japan and of Korea, in past times. The conditions favoring their union, and indeed amalgamation, in Korea itself are to-day incomparably better than they ever were, in any large way, before. If Marquis Ito, and his sympathetic, effective supporters, at home and in the Residency-General, can be sustained for five years, and can be succeeded for a generation by those of like purpose and character, then the problem of the relations of Japan and Korea will have been solved. The present opportunity has cost both countries centuries of trouble, strife, and loss. That all the difficulties should be at once removed, and all the reforms at once efficiently be carried out, it is not reasonable to expect. But now that Japan has won this cherished opportunity, the civilized world requires, and the civilized world may expect, that the opportunity will be on the whole well improved. Such will undoubtedly be the issue if His Imperial Majesty of Japan, the Marquis Ito, and others of like mind, have their way.

The Korean problem has become a part of the larger problem—namely, the realization by Japan of a worthy national ideal. We close, then, this narrative of personal experiences, and its following presentation and discussion of diplomatic proceedings and historical facts, with a quotation[463] that expresses our hopes and our beliefs, and that is taken from a bronze tablet which is to stand in the campus of the Government School of Commerce at Nagasaki, Japan:

Article I

For the purpose of maintaining a permanent and solid friendship between Japan and Korea, and firmly establishing peace in the Far East, the Imperial Government of Korea shall place full confidence in the Imperial Government of Japan and adopt the advice of the latter in regard to improvements in administration.

Article II

The Imperial Government of Japan shall in a spirit of firm friendship ensure the safety and repose of the Imperial House of Korea.

Article III

The Imperial Government of Japan definitely guarantees the independence and territorial integrity of the Korean Empire.

Article IV

In case the welfare of the Imperial House of Korea or the territorial integrity of Korea is endangered by aggression of a third Power or internal disturbances, the Imperial Government of Japan shall immediately take such necessary measures as the circumstances require; and in such cases the Imperial Government of Korea shall give full facilities to promote the action of the Imperial Japanese Government.

The Imperial Government of Japan may, for the attainment of the above-mentioned object, occupy, when the circumstances require it, such places as may be necessary from strategical points of view.

Article V

The Governments of the two countries shall not in future, without mutual consent, conclude with a third Power such an arrangement as may be contrary to the principles of the present Protocol.

Article VI

Details in connection with the present Protocol shall be arranged as the circumstances may require between the Representative of Japan and the Minister of State for Foreign Affairs of Korea.

Article I

The Korean Government shall engage as Financial Adviser to the Korean Government, a Japanese subject recommended by the Japanese Government, and all matters concerning finance shall be dealt with after his counsel being taken.

Article II

The Korean Government shall engage as diplomatic adviser to the Department of Foreign Affairs, a foreigner recommended by the Japanese Government, and all important matters concerning foreign relations shall be dealt with after his counsel being taken.

Article III

The Korean Government shall previously consult the Japanese Government in concluding treaties and conventions with foreign Powers, and in dealing with other important diplomatic affairs, such as the grant of concessions to, or contracts with, foreigners.

The Governments of Japan and Korea, with a view to the early attainment of the prosperity and strength of Korea, and to the speedy promotion of the welfare of the Korean people, have agreed upon and concluded the following stipulations:—

[The clause in the Protocol of August, 1904, which is declared abrogated by the seventh article of the new Convention, apparently refers to the promise of the Korean Government to engage a Japanese subject as their official Financial Adviser. It was, of course, rendered unnecessary by the new Convention.]

The revised Organic Regulations of the Korean Government, published by an extra of the Official Gazette (December 23, 1907), cover the five Administrative Departments for Home Affairs, Finance, Justice, Education, and Agriculture, Commerce and Industry. As for the Cabinet and War Office, they had not as yet reported any changes introduced in their Regulations. In addition to the particular Organic Regulations for each department there are Regulations common to all the Departments, the War Office not being excepted. The latter Regulations consist of 21 articles which outline the responsibility and duty of the Ministers, Vice-Ministers, and other officials, and fix the date for the enforcement of all the revised Regulations for January 1, 1908. Regulations for the organization of the different offices under the Departments of Home, Finance, and Justice were promulgated at the same time, including the Provincial Governor’s Office, Metropolitan Police Office and Customs Office.

To give a brief epitome of the Regulations for each administrative department: The Home Office is to contain three bureaus for local affairs—Police, Engineering, and Hygienics, with a Director for each. The rest of the staff consists of 12 secretaries, 5 commissioners, 5 engineering experts, 3 translators, 62 clerks, 10 police sergeants, 5 assistant engineering experts and a number of policemen. The Finance Department contains the three bureaus of Revenue, Accounts, and Managing Finance, each with a Director.[471] Thirteen secretaries, 7 commissioners, 2 translators, and 100 clerks constitute the staff of this Department. The Department of Justice will have bureaus for Civil and Criminal Affairs, and each bureau is controlled by a Director. The regular staff of this department comprises 9 secretaries, 4 commissioners, 3 translators, and 40 clerks. In the Department of Education there are bureaus for School Affairs and for Edition and Compilation, with a Director each. The regular staff includes 7 secretaries, 4 commissioners, 3 engineering experts, 28 clerks, and 6 assistant engineering experts. The Department of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry will be divided into five bureaus—namely, Agriculture, Commercial and Industrial, Forestry, Mining, and Marine Products; and each bureau has a Director at its head. The regular staff of this Department includes 8 secretaries, 5 commissioners, 15 technical experts, 1 translator, 49 clerks, and 60 assistant technical experts.

In addition, each Department has a Minister’s Chamber, and a private secretary will be appointed to each Minister of State.

The Regulations for the Financial Department provide for the creation of a Temporary Bureau for investigation of the national resources, with a staff consisting of a Director, a secretary, 3 commissioners, and 5 technical experts.

More detailed regulations for the different offices under these departments are to be issued later.

The most recent advices from Korea report that the rioting, arson, and murder, headed by the disbanded Korean soldiers, is greatly diminished, and that the country is reverting to its normal condition so far as deeds of disorder and violence are concerned. The visit of the Crown Prince of Japan greatly gratified the pride and appeased the fears of the Imperial family and Yang-bans of Korea. Before leaving Seoul, Prince Ito laid the corner-stone of the new building of the Young Men’s Christian Association in that city. The Crown Prince of Korea, the son of Lady Om, whose guardianship Prince Ito has taken upon himself, accompanied by Ito, arrived in Tokyo, where he is to be placed in the Peers School, and was received with distinguished honors both by the Imperial Family of Japan and by the populace. The reports also show[472] that the trade relations have had a significant increase between the two countries; but the most significant item is this: the exports of Korean products, which are for the most part rice and beans, exceed the imports from Japan by some 3,000,000 yen. The establishment of friendly relations between the two countries appears, therefore, to be moving forward rapidly; and the political and economical redemption of the peninsula appears to have been successfully begun. The first and, of necessity, most doubtful and difficult in the stages of the Passing of the Old Korea may therefore be said to have been already accomplished.

FOOTNOTES

[1] For the following description of Seoul, besides my own observations, I am chiefly indebted to a series of articles published during our stay there by Dr. G. Heber Jones in the Seoul Press.

[2] This may seem incredible, but it is a fact that, as late as the spring of 1907, even a basket of fruit could not be sent to the Emperor with the confidence that the eunuchs and palace servants would not steal it all. At every garden-party the dishes and even the chairs had to be carefully watched.

[3] It is now proper to say, since his own abdication and the Convention of July, 1907, have followed, that the Korean Emperor after repeated denials, confessed at the time to a faithful foreign friend (not a Japanese) that he had given to Mr. Hulbert a large sum of money to execute a certain commission the nature of which he kept secret. In spite of this friend’s importunate urging and vivid representation of what the consequences of the act might be to himself and to his family, His Majesty refused to telegraph a recall of the commission. He did, however, so far yield to the same pleading as to agree not to furnish a further sum of money which had been asked in behalf of the influence of another “foreign friend,” the editor of the most violently anti-Japanese newspaper.

[4] This document probably emanated from the same press in Seoul—conducted by a subject of Japan’s friendly ally, Great Britain—from which came the lying bulletin that afterward caused so much bloodshed on the morning of Friday, July 19th. It is a comfort to know that this same editor has since been indicted by his own Government for the crime of stirring up sedition, condemned to give bonds, and threatened with deportation if his offences are repeated.

[5] Hulbert, The History of Korea, I, p. 368.

[6] Japan, I, p. 69 f.

[7] See The History of the Empire of Japan, (volume prepared for the World’s Columbian Exposition at Chicago, 1903), p. 38 f.

[8] Ibid., p. 47.

[9] The History of the Empire of Japan, p. 278 f.

[10] Ibid., p. 280.

[11] See Griffis, The Hermit Nation, p. 159.

[12] See The History of the Empire of Japan, p. 304.

[13] Japan, IV, p. 207.

[14] See The History of the Empire of Japan, p. 403 ff.

[15] This is on the authority of Mr. D. W. Stevens, whose acquaintance with the facts is most accurate and full.

[16] China’s Intercourse with Korea from the XVth Century to 1895, p. 1 f.

[17] Foreign Relations of the United States, 1871, p. 112.

[18] Quoted from the paper referred to above.

[19] For this account, as here given verbatim, I am indebted to the Hon. D. W. Stevens, who was at the time of my visit, “Adviser to the Korean Council of State and Counsellor of the Resident-General.”

[20] The list of these reforms is given in the volume of the U. S. Foreign Relations, containing the report sent to the United States by Minister Sill, September 24, 1894.

[21] International Law and Diplomacy of the Russo-Chinese War, p. 43 f.

[22] Hershey, International Law and Diplomacy of the Russo-Chinese War, p. 44 f.

[23] Ibid., p. 45 f. See also the account of Dr. K. Asakawa, The Russo-Japanese Conflict, p. 263 ff.

[24] So Mr. Whigham, in his admirable book on Manchuria and Korea. (London, Isbiter & Company), p. 123.

[25] The Passing of Korea, p. 167.

[26] See on this and allied points, the lecture delivered by Mr. Rockhill, at the United States Naval War College, Newport, August 5, 1904.

[27] The Passing of Korea, p. 210 f.

[28] Manchuria and Korea, p. 119.

[29] See Appendix A for its text.

[30] See Appendix B.

[31] War and Neutrality in the Far East, p. 216 f.

[32] See especially Hulbert, The Passing of Korea, p. 464 f.

[33] The narrative which follows may be trusted to correct most of these misstatements. But among them, some of the more important may here be categorically contradicted. Such are, for example, the statements that armed force was used; that General Hasegawa half drew his sword to intimidate Mr. Han; that Hagiwara seized the latter with the aid of gendarmes and police; that the Minister of Agriculture continued to hold out; that he and Minister Pak, during the conference, withdrew from the Japanese Legation and betook themselves to the Palace, denouncing the compact (something no one acquainted with the geographical relations of the two places would be likely to assert with a sincere belief); that the Emperor ordered the consenting Ministers to be assassinated; that Japanese troops patrolled the streets all night, etc., etc. One curiously characteristic error of Mr. Hulbert is involved in the statement, published in one of the papers of the United States, which makes his commission by the Korean Emperor to lodge an appeal with President Roosevelt the cause of hastening the Japanese Government in their iniquitous coup d’état. The truth is that the Japanese Government had made all the preparations for Marquis Ito’s departure, and the plan afterward carried out had been carefully formulated, weeks before it was known that Mr. Hulbert was going to the United States. The Marquis was only waiting the return of Baron Komura to Japan before leaving for Korea. No thought whatever was at any time given to Mr. Hulbert. It is, in general, late now to say that the efforts of those “friends of Korea,” who have taken the Korean ex-Emperor’s money while holding out to him the hope of foreign intervention, have done him and his country, rather than Japan, an injury impossible to repair.

[34] In order to understand the following negotiations and all similar transactions conducted in characteristic Korean style, it should be remembered that delay, however reasonable it may seem or really be, is in fact utilized for purposes not of reflection and judicious planning for future emergencies, but the rather for arranging intrigues, securing apparent chances of escape from the really inevitable, with the result of an increasing unsettlement of the Imperial mind.

[35] He was preparing to go when the Minister of the Household called with a message requesting the Marquis to postpone the conclusion of the Treaty two or three days.

[36] None of the party gathered in the council chamber saw Mr. Han after that. It seems from the accounts subsequently given by Palace officials that a little later Mr. Han went upstairs still deeply agitated. His evident purpose was to gain access to the Emperor, which, as he had not requested an audience, was a flagrant violation of etiquette from the Korean point of view. But the poor man in his confusion turned the wrong way and stumbled into Lady Om’s quarters. Some of the officials led him to a small retiring room, where he spent the night. The next morning it was officially announced that he had been dismissed from office in disgrace and would be severely punished. Marquis Ito immediately begged that the Emperor would pardon him, and, in deference to this request, Mr. Han was permitted to go into retirement with no other punishment than the loss of his office. The whole proceeding was one of those things which apparently can happen only in Korea and not excite any one’s special wonder. No one seemed to know precisely why the Minister was punished. He was amiable, not very strong mentally, but well-meaning and of comparatively good repute; he had done his best to carry out the Emperor’s wishes as he understood them, and, having failed, as was inevitable, his grief was the best proof possible of his sincerity; and one would think it might have excited sufficient pity to preclude resentment. However, it should be added that the sincerity manifest in Mr. Han’s grief did not extend to his memory or his powers of narration. At least that is an inference which one may draw from certain published accounts of these occurrences—Mr. Han having seemingly been the fountain-head of the information.

[37] The Marquis’ reasons for refusing hardly need explanation. Japan had already secured some measure of control over the internal administration of Korea by previous arrangements. The acceptance of the proposed amendment would have been virtually an abrogation of these arrangements, notably of the most important portion of the Protocols of February 23 and August 22. To that, of course, the Marquis could not agree. Besides this, the control of Korea’s foreign relations necessarily required some measure of control and guidance over the administration of her internal affairs. The relations between external and internal affairs, their frequent interdependence, is so intimate, that it would have been a grave mistake to assume the obligations which the one imposed without the power to guard against complications which might follow from maladministration of the other. As the case stands, the insertion of the word “primarily,” while soothing Korean susceptibilities, does not affect the control of the Protectorate in any material respect.

[38] The following facts with regard to the possession of the Imperial seal of Korea and its affixing to this important document, are given on the authority of Mr. D. W. Stevens. They are a complete refutation of the charges which have been made regarding this part of the entire transaction. It was the unavoidable delay in bringing the seal to the Palace which gave rise to these extraordinary stories. “What actually happened,” says Mr. Stevens, “was this. While the treaty was being copied, Mr. Pak went to the telephone and directed the clerk in charge of the seal at the Foreign Office to bring it to the Palace. After some delay he went again to the telephone and repeated the order. At the time the only two persons in the office were the clerk in charge of the seal and Mr. Numano, my Japanese assistant. Both were just then reading in the room where the clerk slept and where the seal was kept. The telephone bell rang, and the clerk who answered it informed Mr. Numano that Mr. Pak had ordered the seal to be brought to the Palace. He was putting on his street clothing preparatory to obeying the order when the Chief of the Diplomatic Bureau of the Foreign Office came into the room and asked the clerk where he was going. The clerk informed him, whereupon he went to the telephone and called up Mr. Pak. He implored the latter not to agree to the Treaty and, finally, receiving Mr. Pak’s peremptory order to cease interfering, threw himself down upon the clerk’s bed in great grief. After this, there was no further interruption from any quarter, and the seal was taken quietly to the Palace.”

It throws light upon the control and use of this seal to observe that, when in the summer of 1907 he was committed to the responsibility for the Commission to The Hague Conference by the fact that the commissioners were ready to prove their Imperial authorization by showing the Imperial seal, His Majesty did not admit this as evidence in proof of their claim. Nevertheless, there is no doubt that this use of his seal was also with his knowledge and permission. And, now, in connection with the various details inaugurated under the new Treaty which followed this violation of the Treaty of November, 1905, we are told that henceforth the Imperial seal will be kept in a safe especially prepared for it, and carefully protected from intrusion.

[39] It is a significant fact that this memorial which is here followed very closely—and in the most important places even literally—has received no attention from the hostile critics of Japan. It would seem as though neither Mr. Hulbert nor Mr. Story is aware of the existence of such a memorial. This is the more remarkable in the case of the former, because he was for years resident in Seoul, was familiar with the Korean language, and was gathering material for his written account of the affair while upon the ground.

[40] It will, therefore, clearly appear that no one acquainted with this memorial can honestly place any confidence in His Majesty’s subsequent denials of the significance of these facts. Shall we not also be obliged to add, that no one who is acquainted with the memorial is entitled to the confidence of any one else, if he puts confidence in the denials of the Emperor. Amazement at the audacity of the falsehoods which have been told with regard to this historically important transaction would seem to be the fitting attitude of mind.

[41] This part of the memorial agrees closely with the statements in the first part of the chapter, as to what was then said.

[42] The purpose of this significant Memorial, we repeat, is self-evident. The Ministers, who had agreed to the Treaty by the Emperor’s commands and with his concurrence and approval, were being attacked as traitors. The Emperor himself was secretly favoring the attack and endeavoring to create the impression that he had not agreed to the Treaty, but that it was the work of the recreant Cabinet without his approval. The Memorial forced him to abandon that position once and for all. As before stated, it was officially promulgated with the Imperial sanction, and should have ended all controversy at once. In any country but Korea, and with any but the class of writers whom these incidents have developed, that would have been its result.

[43] An amusing illustration of the ex-Emperor’s way of filling his privy purse is found in the following authentic incident. At one time the large sum of 270,000 yen was wanted in cash to pay a bill for silks and jades which, it was alleged, had been purchased in China for Lady Om. When the request was made to exhibit the precious goods which had cost so enormous a sum, and which were going to make so large an unexpected drain upon insufficient revenues, the show of materials was entirely unsatisfactory. But, if not the goods, at least the bill itself could be produced. A bill was then brought to light, with the items made out in due form, but by a Chinese firm of merchants in Seoul instead of in China. The Chinese Consul-General, on being inquired of, replied that there was indeed such a reputable Chinese firm in the city; and he desired to have the matter further investigated lest the credit and business honor of his countrymen might suffer by connection of this sort with His Majesty’s efforts to obtain ready money. Investigation elicited the fact that a certain Court official had visited this firm and inquired how much such and such things would cost, if purchased in Shanghai. But no goods had been delivered or even actually ordered!

[44] See Hulbert, The History of Korea, II, p. 61 f.

[45] The History of Korea, I, p. 339.

[46] See Hulbert, The History of Korea, II, p. 54.

[47] Hulbert, The Passing of Korea, pp. 50, 58.

[48] The Passing of Korea, p. 67.

[49] The Passing of Korea, pp. 38, 41.

[50] Ibid., p. 43.

[51] See the account of the “Baby War” and “Breast Hunters,” The History of Korea, II., p. 245.

[52] The Passing of Korea, pp. 311, 319, 369.

[53] Ibid., p. 283.

[54] Ibid., p. 247.

[55] Whigham, Manchuria and Korea, p. 185.

[56] See a pamphlet bearing this title as an “Authorized Translation of Official Documents published by the Resident-General, in Seoul, January, 1907,” p. 7.

[57] During all my visit in Korea it was commonly reported by those intimate at Court that the Crown Prince was an imbecile both in body and in mind. But in his boyhood he was rather more than ordinarily bright, and his mother, the murdered Queen, was the most clever and brilliant Korean woman of her time. It is not strange, then, that since his accession to the throne and in view of his obviously sensible way of yielding to good advice from others, in spite of the evil influence of his father, the impression has been made that he might have been feigning imbecility in order to escape plots to assassinate him, which were formed in the interests of a rival claimant to the throne.

[58] Issue of Saturday, March 16, 1907.

[59] So the report on the “State of the Progress of the Reorganization of the Finances of Korea, March, 1907.”

[60] Administrative Reforms in Korea, p. 18.

[61] A cho is nearly 2½ acres.

[62] See Administrative Reforms in Korea, p. 19.

[63] State of the Progress of the Reorganization of the Finances of Korea, March, 1907, p. 20.

[64] Administrative Reforms in Korea, p. 15.

[65] It should be noted in this connection that this appointment is one of the very few which, like that of the Resident-General, proceed directly from the Emperor of Japan himself.

[66] Summary of the Financial Affairs of Korea, p. 5.

[67] In interpreting this it should be remembered that the Japanese sen is equal in value to one-half a cent in American gold, or about one farthing in English currency. 100 sen = 1 yen, and 1,000 rin = 1 yen.

[68] “There had been,” says Mr. D. W. Stevens, “some criticism because such a law was considered necessary; and Japanese legal procedure was accused of being defective, on this account, by certain foreign critics. But in the late seventies the British Court at Yokohama released a man who had been detected counterfeiting Japanese money, on the ground that there was no British law under which to punish him, and that Japanese law against counterfeiting did not apply to British subjects in Japan. And the highest British courts have held that a contract to smuggle goods into a foreign country is a valid contract as between British subjects in Great Britain.” The entire matter is dwelt upon at such length because it illustrates so well the inability of the Koreans for “independent” management of their own internal affairs, and also the animus and propriety of much of the anti-Japanese criticism.

[69] The quotations are from the pamphlet, Administrative Reforms in Korea, p. 11 f.

[70] See Summary of the Financial Affairs of Korea, p. 5.

[71] See the incidents—which are of a sort to be almost indefinitely multiplied—on page 285 f.

[72] Dr. Allen, then American Consul-General, in a report upon Educational Institutions and Methods in Korea, 1898.

[73] See Administrative Reforms in Korea, p. 4 f.

[74] Official Minutes of the Korean Mission Conference, 1906, p. 41.

[75] Korean Review, of February, 1904.

[76] It is significant to notice in this connection that previous to his several commissions from the Korean Emperor, this writer held a quite different view from that which he afterward advocated with regard to the underlying principle of all the recent relations between the two countries. In the same article he says: “The present chaotic state of the national finances and of popular discontent, show something of what Russian influence has accomplished in Korea; and the people are coming to realize the fact. They are passionately attached to the theory of national ‘independence.’ We say theory advisedly. This word ‘independence’ is a sort of fetich to which they bow, but they think that independence means liberation from outside control alone, forgetting that genuine independence means likewise a liberation from evil influences within, and that liberty, so far from being carte blanche to do as one pleases, is in truth the apotheosis of law.”

[77] Among the many falsehoods told by the Koreans and their “Foreign Friends,” in their endeavors to excite pity for themselves, and, possibly, interference with the Japanese Administration in Korea, none is more ridiculous than that the latter were reviving the use of torture. It should be borne in mind that, previous to the Convention of July, 1907, which followed upon the promulgation of this and other more important false charges by the commissioners to The Hague Conference, the Japanese Residency-General’s power did not extend to the interference with the execution of the Korean law upon Korean criminals. Preliminary examination by beating with a stick was then legal; according to credible current report it was practiced upon the vice-Minister of Education, when, during my visit to Korea, he was accused of having contributed money toward effecting the assassination of the Ministry (see p. 51). All this is quite different from the retort which might be made to critics from the United States to remember the practice of “water-cure” in the Philippines, etc.

[78] Quoted, as are the following paragraphs bearing quotation marks, from the pamphlet prepared under the supervision of the Resident-General, and published in Seoul, January, 1907, on Administrative Reforms in Korea. [These quotations are made exactly, and without attempt to change the language in accordance with our use of legal terms.]

[79] The following incident illustrates the habitual behavior of the Korean Daily News, edited by Mr. Bethell, in both an English and a native edition. Dr. Jones, one of the most faithful and useful of the Missionary body in Korea, had previously incurred the bitter enmity of this paper by publicly announcing (see p. 61 f.) the intention to assist the Resident-General in his plans, so far as his own work as a missionary permitted, for the up-raising of Korea. At the time when the Korean troops, in a wholly unprovoked way, fired upon the crowd in the streets of Seoul, Dr. Jones published in the Seoul Press an account of what he himself saw. The account was not accompanied by any harsh criticism of the conduct of the troops. But “shortly afterwards a Korean attached to the vernacular paper visited him and, attacking him fiercely, denounced him as an enemy of Korea. This was followed by a savage attack in the Korean edition of the News, giving an entirely false account of what Dr. Jones had done and said. It was in fact an invitation to murder.” Dr. Jones at once appealed to the American Consul-General and he to the British. The editor was forced to retract and apologize, but this by no means compensated for the damage his article had done.

[80] This fact has been clearly proven by papers found on the body of Yi-Sei-chik, when he was afterward arrested and detained at headquarters, as well as by his personal statements.

[81] This serious charge was made by the writer and published to a friendly nation, on the basis of no personal knowledge, not to say careful investigation, and after casual conversation with a small number of witnesses who belong to the class peculiarly liable to be deceived both as to facts and as to causes of such alleged incidents.

[82] Deplorable, on account of its effect, direct and indirect, upon the Koreans, upon Marquis Ito’s efforts at reform, and upon the missionary cause in Japan as well as Korea.

[83] It has been asserted that the value of the land staked off by the Japanese military authorities near Seoul was 6,000,000 yen. As the result of a “painstaking and impartial investigation” it was found that, at the highest market price, this land would not have brought more than 750,000 to 1,000,000 yen. The Korean way in such matters is well illustrated by the experience of the Young Men’s Christian Association in Seoul, who, when one small piece of land was needed to complete their site, were obliged to invoke an official order preventing the sale to any other party; and even then paid a price probably two or three times its true market value. Compare also what is said, p. 98 f., about the Pyeng-yang affair.

[84] What is the state of the case in certain portions of the West is truthfully told in the following paragraph quoted from a popular journal: “In the matter of cheating Indians and acquiring public lands in ways which bear all the ethical aspects of theft, there is no public or private morality either in Oklahoma or any other of those Western States where Indians and public lands continue to exist.”

[85] On one occasion the British and Chinese Ministers jointly urged the payment of indemnity in the case of two Chinamen, one a British protégé, who had been injured in a fight with tax-collecting officials at a place to which Chinese junks were in the habit of resorting. The British protégé had died of his wounds, both he and his companion having been confined after the fight in the magistrate’s yamen. The Korean local officials contended that only one person had been killed—namely, the wounded Chinaman. When confronted with the fact that, according to their own report, there was a dead Chinaman in the yamen the morning after, they replied that this man was not in the fracas at all; he had merely crawled into the yamen during the night, and had died of some unknown disease. The picture of this shrewd Celestial going to the yamen to die, apparently for the purpose of fraudulently foisting an incriminating corpus delicti upon the innocent Korean official, did not appeal to the British Minister, and he got his indemnity.

[86] See “The Japanese in Korea,” Extracts from The Korean Review, p. 46 f.

[87] The Far East (London, T. Fisher Unwin, 1901), p. 337 f.

[88] Korea (Chas. Scribner’s Sons, 1904), pp. 128 f.; 274 f. Perhaps the underlying reason for much of Mr. Hamilton’s rather vituperative criticism of affairs in Korea may be found in Chapter XII, where Japanese, American, and British merchants, and Lord Salisbury are all severely taken to task because too much of Korea’s trade is falling into other than English hands.

[89] According to the testimony of travellers in the interior of Korea, it is extremely difficult to get any food, accommodation, or service, even when desirous of paying the highest prices, on account of the experience with their own travelling officials, who never expect to pay for anything exacted from the country people.

[90] It furnished Mr. Hulbert and Mr. Bethell, however, with a striking instance of the way in which the Japanese are robbing the Koreans.

[91] An occurrence, which might easily have become a much celebrated instance of a Japanese attempt at robbery and oppression of the Koreans, came to the writer’s notice in a private but entirely trustworthy way. One of the ex-Emperor’s real foreign friends was sent for some time ago and found His Majesty in a state of intense alarm and excitement over a plot of the Residency-General which had just been made known to him. A certain foreigner had authorized the story that the Japanese authorities were trying to purchase three houses owned by a Chinese and situated just opposite the Palace, with a view to tear them down and erect barracks for the Japanese soldiers on the spot. The price offered by the Japanese was 60,000 yen; but if His Majesty would furnish 65,000 yen, this friendly foreigner would buy the property for him, and so defeat the nefarious project of the Japanese. The Emperor wished at once to borrow the money. It was suggested, however, that His Majesty should allow inquiry to be made before parting with so much of his privy purse. Whereupon, the following conversation was held between the Chinese owner and the person to whom the Emperor looked to procure for him the needed sum:

“I understand the three houses you own are offered for sale.”

“Well, I do not particularly wish to sell them; but that Frenchman, Mr. ⸺, has been here and wanted to get them. He said he wished to put up a large store in their place.”

“How much do you ask for the houses?”

“They are worth 13,000 yen; but if any one will take all three of them, he may have them for 12,000 yen in cash.”

“Is that so? I understood the Japanese wanted them to build barracks for their soldiers on the land.”

“I have not heard anything about the Japanese wanting them; it was that Frenchman who said he wanted them, to build a store there.”

The benevolent spirit of this enterprising foreign friend is revealed more intimately when we learn that he threatened to shoot on the spot, if he could only find out who he was, the man that had thwarted his plan for this bit of real-estate speculation. The same intention was avowed by the American miner against the foreign official of the Korean Government whom he regarded as standing in the way of the success of the “Poong Poo” Company (see p. 361 f.).

[92] Korea and Her Neighbors, by Isabella Bird Bishop, p. 64.

[93] Quoted from an anonymous letter, signed “Foreigner,” and published in the Seoul Press, date of August 6, 1907. The spirit of this passage is characteristic of the entire letter, which was nearly a column long, and which was, alas! written by a missionary.

[94] Editorial in the Seoul Press, August 8, 1907.

[95] In this connection it should be remembered that the Young Men’s Christian Association in Seoul is heavily subsidized by the Residency-General in recognition of its services for the good of the Koreans; that Marquis Ito sent a message of welcome, accompanied by a gift of 10,000 yen, to the “World’s Christian Student Federation” at its meeting in April, 1907, in Tokyo; and that His Excellency has taken all possible pains to assure the Christian missionaries in Korea of his desire for their active co-operation, by use of the moral and spiritual forces which they wield, with his plan to use the allied economic and educational forces, for the betterment of the Korean nation.

[96] Letter to the Japan Times, published, Tokyo, May 9, 1907.

[97] See Problems of the Far East, by the Hon. George N. Curzon, M.P. (1894), pp. 192-197.

[98] Compare the narratives of Part I, pp. 37-64; 90-111.

[99] “Abnormal,” i. e., from the point of view of what would be expected from minds of a higher degree of culture and of self-control.

[100] With regard to the personnel of the Korean members of this commission, the head was Yi Sung-sol, who had formerly been a Cabinet Councillor. With him were associated Yi Chun-yong, a Judge of the Supreme Court, and Yi Wi-chong, who was at one time secretary to the Foreign Legation at Russia. The two former seem to have taken the Siberian route to St. Petersburg, where they arrived about April 20th, and were met there by Yi Wi-chong. The Russian Government, being at that time negotiating a treaty with Japan which was to recognize in most explicit terms the Japanese Protectorate over Korea, and give to it a “free hand” in the management of Korean affairs, naturally enough, gave no encouragement to the Koreans or to their “foreign friend.”

In view of the large sum of money which, according to rumor at the time, the Emperor contributed to this purpose, it seems scarcely credible that the Korean delegates should feel compelled at The Hague “to stay at a low-class hotel where the meals cost about 50 sen” (or 25 cents in gold), as the cable despatch reports. No less a sum than 240,000 yen was subsequently traced to expenditure upon this futile scheme; and 100,000 yen additional was suspected on good grounds. In addition to this, as the event proved, it cost the Emperor his crown.

[101] It should be understood that the proposal of Count Inouye did not contemplate taking the Korean Emperor prisoner and carrying him off by force to Japan. It expressed simply the belief on the Count’s part that the shortest way of making Korea accept Japan’s guidance was to cause the Emperor to become acquainted with Japan by personal observation.

[102] The mixture of ignorance and craft of which the ex-Emperor is capable was illustrated in a humorous way by his inquiry of Marquis Ito whether the Japanese Government would not undertake the arrest and punishment of his own emissaries at The Hague! The reply was, of course, that Japan could no more do such a thing in Holland than Korea in Japan.

[103] This double policy of soliciting advice and help from Marquis Ito, as his most true and powerful friend, while acting contrary to the advice when given and rendering the help difficult or impossible, has characterized the Emperor throughout in his relations with the Marquis.

[104] It was subsequently reported that the number of Koreans injured during the disturbances of this Friday was 210; since the majority of these had bullet wounds and the Japanese police were not armed with rifles, the conclusion is inevitable that most of these casualties were occasioned by the firing upon the crowd of the mutinous Korean soldiers.

[105] These quotations are from the article, the publication of which was followed by the incident already narrated (p. 355, note). This example is typical of the temper and methods of the anti-Japanese leaders and their foreign friends.

[106] This is perhaps the place to deny, authoritatively and finally, that Marquis Ito procured, counselled, or even gave consent to, the act of abdication. Indeed, the members of the Residency-General, and the Japanese in Seoul generally, who approved of the more strenuous measures to be taken against Korea, regretted to have the abdication take place. To use the expression of one of them: “It dulled the edge of the Japanese sword.”

[107] It should be understood that this office is the most important and influential of all the Korean offices, so far as private transactions with the Emperor are concerned. Now Pak Yong-hio, after a life of idleness and debauchery in Japan, whither he had fled some years before, and where he had been supported by the kindness of Japanese and Korean friends, had recently been pardoned and allowed to return to Korea. In petitioning for permission to return, Pak dwelt in pathetic terms on his “home-sickness,” and expressly promised in the future to refrain from political intrigue. But he had scarcely set foot on the soil of Korea before he began a most dishonest and disgraceful course of political intrigue. A little more than twenty-four hours after his pseudo-appointment as Minister of the Imperial Household, the Cabinet Ministers ordered his arrest, and he was subsequently condemned to be punished with eighty lashes and banished for life to the Island of Quelpart. Such are the vicissitudes of Korean political careers when most free from foreign influence!

[108] For the text of this new Convention, which is remarkable at once for its brevity and its comprehensive indefiniteness, the reader is referred to Appendix C. In view of the claims that the Convention of 1905 could not have been consented to by the Emperor because it does not bear his signature, or that it did not have the consent of the Ministers, because they did not all sign it, attention is called to the fact that the new Convention is signed only by Marquis Ito and the Korean Prime Minister.

[109] One of the leaders of the riot of July 19th confessed that he was betrayed into his action by the false report of the Taihan Mai-il Shimpo (or Korean edition of the Korean Daily News—Mr. Bethell’s paper), that the Emperor would be forced to go to Japan to apologize for The Hague incident. On reading the Japanese-Korean Convention, however, he was surprised at the moderation of Japan, and considered himself a fool for being deceived by the paper. This is only one of innumerable instances illustrating the truth that the English editor of this paper, and his American coadjutor have, of late, probably done more mischief to the Korean nation than any other persons except the Emperor and his small coterie of corrupt Court officials.

[110] The word thus translated, however, means “paid” troops rather than volunteers.

[111] How dangerous is prophecy touching the future of the Far East is well illustrated by the following passage quoted from Mr. Whigham’s generally calm and fair book on Manchuria and Korea, p. 49. Speaking of the mistake which Japan made in not preventing Russia from building the Manchurian Railway, Mr. Whigham says: “On the other hand, one is more and more convinced that what used to be talked about a short time ago as the inevitable war between Russia and Japan is destined to end in smoke, since the Japanese have already lost their great opportunity.” This was written as of July, 1901. Less than three years later “the inevitable war” began in the “smoke” of battle, and ended with Japan in possession of this same Manchurian Railway.

CONTENTS OF PART I
CHAPTER		PAGE
I.	The Invitation	1
II.	First Glimpses of Korea	15
III.	Life in Seoul	37
IV.	Life in Seoul (Continued)	65
V.	The Visit To Pyeng-yang	90
VI.	Chemulpo and Other Places	112
VII.	The Departure	139
VIII.	Personal Reminiscences and Impressions	148
CONTENTS OF PART II
IX.	The Problem: Historical	179
X.	The Problem: Historical (Continued)	222
XI.	The Compact	252
XII.	Rulers and People	280
XIII.	Resources and Finance	300[xiv]
XIV.	Education and the Public Justice	326
XV.	Foreigners and Foreign Relations	352
XVI.	Wrongs: Real and Fancied	367
XVII.	Missions and Missionaries	388
XVIII.	July, 1907, and After	414
XIX.	The Solution of the Problem	444

Portrait of Marquis Ito	Frontispiece
	TO FACE PAGE
Bird’s-Eye View of the Capital City	22
Going to the Lecture at Independence Hall	52
Water-gate at Pyeng-yang	100
West Gate or “Gate of Generous Righteousness”	132
Peony Point at Pyeng-yang	184
The Tong-Kwan Tai-Kwol Palace	206
The Ex-Emperor and Present Emperor	284
The Hall of Congratulations	306
Street Scene in Seoul	330
The Stone-Turtle Monument	384
Funeral Procession in Seoul	408

Prime Minister,	Yi Wan-yong.
Minister of Justice,	Yi Ha-yong.
Minister of Finance,	Min Yong-ki.
Minister of the Interior,	In Sun-jun.
Minister of War,	Yi Pyong-mu.
Minister of Education,	Yi Chai-kon.

The Project Gutenberg eBook of In Korea with Marquis Ito

IN KOREA WITH MARQUIS ITO

PREFACE

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

PART I A NARRATIVE OF PERSONAL EXPERIENCES

CHAPTER I THE INVITATION

CHAPTER II FIRST GLIMPSES OF KOREA

CHAPTER III LIFE IN SEOUL

CHAPTER IV LIFE IN SEOUL (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER V A VISIT TO PYENG-YANG

CHAPTER VI CHEMULPO AND OTHER PLACES

CHAPTER VII THE DEPARTURE

CHAPTER VIII PERSONAL REMINISCENCES AND IMPRESSIONS

PART II A CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL INQUIRY

CHAPTER IX THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL

CHAPTER X THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER XI THE COMPACT

CHAPTER XII RULERS AND PEOPLE

CHAPTER XIII RESOURCES AND FINANCE

CHAPTER XIV EDUCATION AND THE PUBLIC JUSTICE

CHAPTER XV FOREIGNERS AND FOREIGN RELATIONS

CHAPTER XVI WRONGS: REAL AND FANCIED

CHAPTER XVII MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES

CHAPTER XVIII JULY, 1907, AND AFTERWARD

CHAPTER XIX THE SOLUTION OF THE PROBLEM

APPENDIX A PROTOCOL SIGNED FEBRUARY 23, 1904

Article I

Article II

Article III

Article IV

Article V

Article VI

APPENDIX B PROTOCOL SIGNED AUGUST 22, 1904

Article I

Article II

Article III

APPENDIX C CONVENTION OF JULY 24, 1907

APPENDIX D SUMMARY OF THE MOST RECENT MEASURES FOR THE ORGANIZATION OF THE KOREAN GOVERNMENT

FOOTNOTES

INDEX

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

IN KOREA
WITH
MARQUIS ITO

PART I
A NARRATIVE OF PERSONAL EXPERIENCES

CHAPTER I
THE INVITATION

CHAPTER II
FIRST GLIMPSES OF KOREA

CHAPTER III
LIFE IN SEOUL

CHAPTER IV
LIFE IN SEOUL (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER V
A VISIT TO PYENG-YANG

CHAPTER VI
CHEMULPO AND OTHER PLACES

CHAPTER VII
THE DEPARTURE

CHAPTER VIII
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES AND IMPRESSIONS

PART II
A CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL INQUIRY

CHAPTER IX
THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL

CHAPTER X
THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL (CONTINUED)

CHAPTER XI
THE COMPACT

CHAPTER XII
RULERS AND PEOPLE

CHAPTER XIII
RESOURCES AND FINANCE

CHAPTER XIV
EDUCATION AND THE PUBLIC JUSTICE

CHAPTER XV
FOREIGNERS AND FOREIGN RELATIONS

CHAPTER XVI
WRONGS: REAL AND FANCIED

CHAPTER XVII
MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES

CHAPTER XVIII
JULY, 1907, AND AFTERWARD

CHAPTER XIX
THE SOLUTION OF THE PROBLEM

APPENDIX A
PROTOCOL SIGNED FEBRUARY 23, 1904

APPENDIX B
PROTOCOL SIGNED AUGUST 22, 1904

APPENDIX C
CONVENTION OF JULY 24, 1907

APPENDIX D
SUMMARY OF THE MOST RECENT MEASURES FOR THE ORGANIZATION OF THE KOREAN GOVERNMENT