In the Koreans we seem to behold the wraith of a something which existed long ago.  There are traditions of ancient greatness, the line of their present King stretching proudly back to 1390, and beyond that an indefinite background of splendor and vista of heroic deeds which, we are told, made China and Japan and all the East tremble!  But to-day we see a feeble and rather gentle race, eccentric in customs and dress and ideals, with odd rites and ceremonials chiefly intended to placate demoniacal beings to whom they ascribe supreme control over human events.  Nothing may be done by the King or his humblest subject without consulting the sorcerers and exorcists, who alone know the propitious moment and place for every important act.  With no recognition of a Supreme Being, no sacred books; without temples, or art, or literature, or industries, excepting one or two of a very simple nature, it is extremely difficult for the Western mind to understand what life must mean to this people.  That it is a degenerate form of national life which must be either absorbed or effaced seems obvious.  And if the life of Korean nationality is prolonged in the future, it will be simply because, like Turkey, it harmlessly holds a strategic point too valuable to be allowed to pass into the hands of any one of the nations which covet it.  And it is also easy to foresee that in the interval existing until its absorption, Korea must remain, also like Turkey, merely the plaything of diplomacy and the battle-ground for rival nations.

Until the year 1876 Korea was really a “Hermit Kingdom,” with every current from the outside world carefully excluded.  In that year her near neighbor, Japan, made the first rift in the enclosing shell.  A treaty was concluded opening Chemulpo, Fusan and Won-San to Japanese trade.  The civilizing tide pressed in, and by 1883 the United States, France, England and Germany had all concluded treaties and Korea was open to the outside world.

The government of Korea at this time was simply an organized system of robbery and extortion—­wearing not even the mask of justice.  The undisguised aim of officialdom was to extort money from the people; and the aim of the high-born Korean youth (or yang-ban) was to pass the royal examination in Chinese classics, which was requisite to make him eligible for official position, and then join the horde of vampires who fed upon the people.  At irregular intervals there were revolts, and under the pressure of violent acts temporary relief would be afforded; then things would go on as before.

While such was the perennial condition of political unrest, a rebellion of a different sort broke out at Seoul in 1885—­an anti-foreign rebellion—­which had for its purpose the expulsion of all the foreign legations.  This led to negotiations between China and Japan having an important bearing upon subsequent events.  Li Hung Chang, representing China, and Marquis Ito, the Japanese Foreign Minister, held a