Corean inns—­Seoul—­A tour of observation—­Beggars—­Lepers—­Philosophy—­An old palace—­A leopard hunt—­Weather prophets—­The main street—­Sedan chairs—–­The big bell—­Crossing of the bridges—­Monuments—­Animal worship—­The Gate of the Dead—­A funeral—­The Queen-dowager’s telephone.

[Illustration:  THE DRILLING GROUND, SEOUL]

During the time that I was in Seoul—­and I was there several months—­most of my time was spent out of doors, for I mixed as much as possible with the natives, that I might see and study their manners and customs.  I was very fortunate in my quarters:  for I first stayed at the house of a Russian gentleman, and after that in that of the German Consul, and to these kind friends I felt, and shall always feel, greatly indebted for the hospitality they showed me during the first few weeks that I was in the capital; but, above all, do I owe it to the Vice-Minister of Home Affairs in Corea, Mr. C.R.  Greathouse, in whose house I stayed most of the time, that I saw Corea as I did see it, for he went to much trouble to make me comfortable, and did his best to enable me to see every phase of Corean life.  For this, I need not say, I cannot be too grateful.

The great difficulty travellers visiting the capital of Corea experience—­I am speaking of four years ago—­is to find a place to put up at, unless he has invitations to go and stay with friends.  There are no hotels, and even no inns of any sort, with the exception of the very lowest gargottes for soldiers and coolies, the haunts of gamblers and robbers.  If then you are without shelter for the night, you must simply knock at the door of the first respectable house you see, and on demand you will heartily be provided with a night’s domicile and plentiful rice.  This being so, there is little inducement to go to some filthy inn entirely lacking in comforts, and, above all, in personal safety.

The Corean inns—­and there are but few even of those—­are patronised only by the scum of the worst people of the lowest class, and whenever there is a robbery, a fight, or a murder, you can be certain that it has taken place in one of those dens of vice.  I have often spent hours in them myself to study the different types, mostly criminal, of which there are many specimens in these abodes.  There it is that plots are made up to assassinate; it is within those walls that sinners of all sorts find refuge, and can keep well out of sight of the searching police.

The attractions of Seoul, as a city, are few.  Beyond the poverty of the buildings and the filth of the streets, I do not know of much else of any great interest to the casual globe-trotter, who, it must be said, very seldom thinks it advisable to venture as far as that.  No, there is nothing beautiful to be seen in Seoul.  If, however, you are on the look-out for quaintness and originality, no town will interest you more.  Let us go for a walk round the town, and if your nose happens to be of a sensitive