Discovering Korea

Discovering Korea
at the Start of the Twentieth

Century
Articles from the first volumes

of the Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society
Korea Branch
Edited by Brother Anthony of Taizé

President, RASKB
Contents
Preface ........................................................................................................ 1
The Influence of China upon Korea. ........................................................ 20
By Rev. Jas. S. Gale, B.A. [James Scarth Gale] ................................ 20
Korean Survivals. ..................................................................................... 41
By H. B. Hulbert, Esq., F.R.G.S. [Homer Bezaleel Hulbert] ............... 41
Inscription on Buddha at Eun-jin.............................................................. 65
Korea’s Colossal Image of Buddha. ......................................................... 69
By Rev. G. H. Jones. [George Heber Jones] ........................................ 69
The Spirit Worship of the Koreans. .......................................................... 83
By Rev. Geo. Heber Jones, M.A. [George Heber Jones] ..................... 83
Kang-Wha (江華) ................................................................................... 105
By Rev. M. N. Trollope, M. A. [Mark Napier Trollope] ................. 105
The Culture and Preparation of Ginseng in Korea. ................................ 137
By Rev. C. T. Collyer. [Charles T. Collyer] ....................................... 137
The Village Gilds of Old Korea ............................................................. 149
P. L. Gillett [Philip Loring Gillett] ..................................................... 149
Marriage Customs of Korea. .................................................................. 177
By Arthur Hyde Lay. .......................................................................... 177
Selection and Divorce............................................................................. 191
By J. S. Gale. [James Scarth Gale] ..................................................... 191
The History of Korean Medicine. ........................................................... 197
N. H. Bowman, M.D. [Newton H. Bowman] ..................................... 197
The Pagoda of Seoul. .............................................................................. 221
By J. S. Gale. [James Scarth Gale] ..................................................... 221
ii
Hunting and Hunters’ Lore in Korea. ..................................................... 241
By H. H. Underwood. ......................................................................... 241
Gold Mining in Korea............................................................................. 259
Edwin W. Mills. ................................................................................. 259
Introduction to the Study of Buddhism in Corea. ................................... 287
By The Right Rev. Mark Napier Trollope, D.D. ................................ 287
Corean Coin Charms and Amulets: A Supplement ................................ 321
By Frederick Starr .............................................................................. 321
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Preface
Brother Anthony of Taizé (Professor An Sonjae)
President, Royal Asiatic Society Korea Branch
1. The origins of the Royal Asiatic Society Korea Branch
The Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland was founded in
London, England, in 1823 by the Sanskrit scholar Henry Colebrooke and
a group of like-minded individuals. It received its Royal Charter from
King George IV in 1824 “for the investigation of subjects connected with
and for the encouragement of science, literature and the arts in relation to
Asia”. In the period that followed, branches of the RAS were founded in
many of the major cities of Asia, wherever scholarly diplomats,
missionaries and merchants developed an interest in the history and
culture of the land in which they found themselves.
In 1857 a small group of British and Americans seeking
intellectual engagement in Shanghai established the Shanghai Literary and
Scientific Society. Within a year the organization was granted affiliation
with the Royal Asiatic Society in London, and the North China Branch of
the Royal Asiatic Society was born. After ceasing to exist in 1952, it has
recently (2006) been reborn as “The Royal Asiatic Society in Shanghai.”
The Asiatic Society of Japan (where the “Royal” had to be dropped out of
deference to the imperial house of the country) was similarly established
in Yokohama in 1872. Several branches were founded in India, notably in
Kolkata and Mumbai, while others continue to function in Hong Kong and
Malaysia. The branch in Hong Kong claims a history of more than 150
years, having been founded in 1847, although it actually ceased to exist in
1859 and was only revived in 1959! That in Malaysia was first founded in
1877.
In Korea, a group composed mainly of missionaries began to
publish a monthly magazine titled The Korean Repository in 1892, with
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articles of varying length about many aspects of Korea, a country which

had only been open to westerners since the signing of the “Shufeldt”
Treaty between Joseon (Korea) and the United States in 1882.
Missionaries were uniquely well-placed to develop a knowledge of a
country since they were naturally obliged to master the language, often
traveled and lived outside of the capital, and usually came with the
intention of spending many years there. Diplomats, too, tended to gather
information about the country they were stationed in. The nineteenth
century was the age of the explorer and the amateur scholar, rather than
the “academic specialist” of more recent times, and many of those
amateurs were men of rare talent and profound insight.
Some of the contributors to The Korean Repository finally felt
the need for an association with meetings where they could present more
scholarly papers and discuss their discoveries in a serious manner. On
October 18, 1899, a letter indicating the wish to establish a Korea Branch
of the Royal Asiatic Society was sent to the RAS in London and an
encouraging reply was received. Therefore, at 4:30 pm on June 16, 1900,
a founding meeting attended by seventeen men (all but four of them
missionaries) was held in the Reading Room of the Seoul Union Club,
where officers were elected and a constitution (based on that of the
London RAS) was adopted. The parent society was informed and duly
sent its approval.
The founders of the RASKB soon published the first volume of
Transactions of the Korea Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, dated 1900
but probably printed early the following year. Its cover is decorated with
the Chinese characters for Dae-Han on either side of the yin-yang symbol,
and it boasts of a remarkable international distribution, claiming to be on
sale not only from the Librarian in Seoul but from stores or publishers in
Yokohama, Shanghai, Hongkong, Singapore, London, Paris, Berlin and
New York. In addition to three papers, by founder-members, it contains
the detailed minutes of the first meetings, including the first Annual
General Meeting held on December 19, 1900, the original Constitution
and a list of officers and members. By the end of 1900 the list of ordinary
members contained thirty-four names, mostly missionaries with a
sprinkling of diplomats.
The first President of the RASKB is listed as “J. H. Gubbins, her
Britannic Majesty’s Chargé d’Affaires”. The first Vice-President was
George Heber Jones of the Methodist mission; the Honorary Secretaries
were James S. Gale and Homer B. Hulbert. J. H. Gubbins had long lived
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in Japan but only spent comparatively little time in Korea. He was well
acquainted with the Asiatic Society of Japan, of which he spoke at the
inaugural meeting of the RASKB.
His full names were John Harington Gubbins (1852-1929). He
attended Harrow School but instead of going on to university, he became
a student interpreter in the British Japan Consular Service in 1871. On
June 1, 1889, he became Japanese Secretary at Tokyo, and was appointed
Second Secretary at the Tokyo legation on February 13, 1890. He briefly
served as acting Chargé d’Affaires in Korea from May 18, 1900 until
November 4, 1901. Later he was appointed lecturer in Japanese language
at Oxford University (1909-1912) but the position was soon terminated
for lack of pupils. He published two books, The Progress of Japan,
1853-1871 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1911) and The Making of Modern
Japan (London: Seeley, Service & Co, 1922). He is the first of a series of
diplomats both British and American who were assigned to Seoul after
they had spent a long period in Japan
2. Homer B. Hulbert and the historical context before 1900
The authors of the papers published in the first volumes of

Transactions were to be much more significant in the continuing history
of the RASKB. Homer B. Hulbert, James S. Gale, George Heber Jones,
Mark N. Trollope, and, a little later, Horace H. Underwood, are among the
founders of the discipline that has now come to be known as Korean
Studies. The life-story of Homer B. Hulbert is a particularly fascinating
one, too complex to be fully covered here. It allows us to glimpse the
historical context in which the papers in the early volumes of
Transactions were written and published.
Homer Bezaleel Hulbert was born on January 26, 1863 in New
Haven, Vermont, graduated from Dartmouth College in 1884, then
entered Union Theological College. While he was studying there, the
Korean government announced plans to establish a school in Seoul
teaching English and asked the American government to send teachers. As
a result, Homer B. Hulbert arrived in Korea in 1886 with a few others to
act as “professor” in the Royal English School, where the sons of high
officials were to learn English. He soon discovered the lack of teaching
materials and in the years following authored the first textbook
introducing world geography to Korea, including the culture, social
systems and industries of the major nations. His Samin-pilji (knowledge
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everyone needs) was published first in Hangul in 1889 before being

adapted with Chinese characters in 1895. It was widely used and served to
encourage the process of modernization.
Hulbert was fascinated by Korea and in his spare time explored
every aspect of the country and its culture. He quickly recognized the
need for a radical change in its social structures and to this end wished to
help provide education for the general public, at a time when government
was in the hands of a tiny, self-serving, ultra-conservative elite. He soon
realized that the pupils in the Royal English School were not interested in
such a program. Hulbert was unlike the missionaries surrounding him in
that his main concern was education for social progress, he did not have to
build churches, organize congregations and evangelize. His constantly
strong advocacy of the easily-learned Hangul in place of difficult Chinese
characters began in these years, soon after the failure of the reformist
Gapsin Coup of 1884, when the worst kind of reactionary, corrupt
conservative noblemen were in control of government. Hulbert was a
kindhearted radical who quickly identified with the desire for
modernization and emancipation expressed by many of the young
Koreans he met. He began to study the history of the country, wishing to
understand it better, and his close relationship with the King of Korea also
began in these years.
Seeing no future in his role as teacher at the Royal English
School, he left Korea at the end of 1891. He himself was a
Congregationalist but had been close to missionaries sent by the
Methodist Episcopal Church, his own denomination not being present in
Korea. One of the leading Methodists was Henry Gerhard Appenzeller
(1858 – 1902), who encouraged him to return as a member of the
Methodist mission. The Methodists had established the Trilingual Press in
Seoul, at the time in question under the management of the Rev. Franklin
Ohlinger. In the summer of 1893, Ohlinger left for Singapore and Hulbert
was glad to replace him at the press, rather than come back to teach at the
Pai Chai (Paejae) School that Appenzeller had founded. He felt that his
knowledge of Hangul would enable the Press to produce the general
educational materials the country urgently needed. So he returned to
Korea in 1894 to take charge of what was already a major printing house
and in the years that followed he worked hard to improve its equipment.
Early in 1892, encouraged by George Heber Jones, the Ohlingers
had begun to produce a monthly magazine, The Korean Repository, and
although it was not published for one year after their departure, it was
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published again from 1895-8, with Appenzeller and George Heber Jones
as co-editors. Hulbert became its editorial manager by virtue of his
position at the Press and began to contribute articles about aspects of
Korean culture and life. He also renewed his close relationship with the
King at a critical moment in modern Korean history. From February until
November, 1894, the Donghak Rebellion raged through Korea; China and
Japan both sent in troops, competing for control over Korea, and this led
to the First Sino-Japanese War. The war began late in July, 1894, and led
to the invasion by Japan of western Manchuria and northern China. The
war ended with a virtual Chinese surrender, the Treaty of Shimonoseki
was signed on April 17, 1895. It gave Japan control over the Liaodong
Peninsula, ended the tributary relationship between Joseon and the Qing
Dynasty, and gave Japan control over Taiwan. However, Russia brought
France and Germany to its side and they forced Japan to return the
Liaodong Peninsula to China. This only made Japan more determined to
take full control of Korea, where Russia too had ambitions.
At the same time, the second half of 1894 saw the start of the
great reforms of Korean society and government, usually known as the
Gapo Reforms. This process was a complex one, in multiple stages, in
which Korean reformers, pro-Japanese Koreans, and the Japanese
government all played a role. The reforms made between August 1895
and February 1896 were among the most radical, with the abolition of the
lunar calendar, the introduction of a new educational system,
modernization of the army among many other changes. The model of the
Meiji Reforms in Japan must have been strong; the Japanese Emperor had
cut off his topknot in 1872, as a symbol of the break with the feudal past.
In November 1895, the King ordered Korean men to cut off their topknot,
as he had done, angering the conservatives beyond measure. A
nationalistic uprising resulted.
One of the earliest and most important cultural reforms was the
abolition of the traditional public service exam, the gwageo, in which men
of yangban origin were tested on their knowledge of the Confucian
classics. With the end of this examination, the Confucian academies
spread across the country lost their raison d’être and the rising
generations soon turned toward modern, western-style schools. The
resulting decline in the study of the Chinese classics was lamented twenty
years later by James Scarth Gale in the pages of the Korea Magazine, but
it was scarcely noticed by ordinary Koreans. Another reform required all
official documents to be written in Hangul, for their benefit.
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On October 8, 1895, Queen Min was assassinated by the

Japanese, because of her opposition to Japan’s plans, and during the
following months the terrified King insisted that a group of westerners
sleep close to him in the palace each night. The core members of this
group were James S. Gale, Homer B. Hulbert, George Heber Jones,
Horace G. Underwood, H. G. Appenzeller and the Canadian doctor O. R.
Avison. All were involved a few years later in the foundation of the
RASKB. Avison, Hulbert and Underwood were on guard on the night of
November 27-28, 1895, when a crowd of anti-Japanese nationalists led by
two patriotic Korean generals tried to storm the palace to “save” the King
from his pro-Japanese ministers. The three foreigners were able to keep
the ministers from using the King as a living shield, probably saving his
life, and he never forgot that. The King escaped to the Russian legation in
February 1896, and a year later moved to Gyeongun-gung (now
Deoksu-gung) palace. There he was surrounded by the foreign legations,
and this marks a time when liberal, but often pro-Japanese, policies were
encouraged in every domain. A symbolic though ambiguous break with
the past came on October 13, 1897, when the Daehan Empire was
proclaimed and King Gojong became known as the Emperor Gwangmu.
Apart from the King, one of the most important people in
Hulbert’s experience of Korea must surely have been Seo Jae-pil, usually
known as Philip Jaisohn, a brilliant young scholar. After being involved in
the abortive Gapsin Coup of 1884, he found refuge in the United States
where he become a doctor and an American citizen, the first Korean to
become either. With the rise of the modernizing side he returned to Korea
in 1895 as an adviser to the Privy Council.
Philip Jaisohn labored hard to encourage modernization and the
title of his newspaper, The Independent, stresses his main vision, the
rejection of growing Japanese control and the independence of the Korean
people. He gave fiery lectures at the Pai Chai Academy, where the young
Syngman Rhee was among the audience, and established the
Independence Club where social issues could be debated freely. In 1896-7,
he and the members of the Independence Club erected the Independence
Gate at the place where envoys from the Chinese Emperor had
traditionally been welcomed, to mark the end of the tribute relationship
with China.
In 1896 he founded the first modern newspaper, Dongnip Sinmun,
(The Independent in its English edition). It was printed in Hangul to make
it accessible to simple people, published three times a week, and an
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English edition was also produced for a time, mainly edited by Homer
Hulbert’s younger brother Archer, both editions printed by the Trilingual
Press. After the departure of Jaisohn, the president of the Independence
Club, Yun Chi-Ho, took over the newspaper for a time. It was finally
closed down in December, 1899.
In August 1897 he launched a public forum called ‘All People’s
Congress.’ After he proposed the constitution of a Congress in 1898,
Russia and Japan, as well as conservatives within Korea, urged the
Korean government to expel Jaisohn, claiming that he was plotting to
abolish the monarchy. He left, and only returned to Korea in July 1947, as
the Chief Adviser to the US Military Government and as a member of the
Korean Interim Legislative Assembly. People who admired him petitioned
him to stand in the elections for the first President of the Republic of
Korea in 1948 but he felt that he had no real power base and chose to
return to the United States, where he died on January 5, 1951, at the
height of the Korean War.
In 1897, the King decided that Korea needed to train teachers
who would teach in the western-style schools to be established across the
country. He asked Hulbert to serve as the Principal of the Royal Normal
School and prepare the necessary textbooks. Hulbert therefore passed
management of the Trilingual Press (and the Repository) to another
Methodist missionary, D. A. Bunker, who had formerly taught at the
English School and was now head of the English Department at Pai Chai.
Soon after the Royal Normal School was founded, its name changed to the
Imperial Normal School with the proclamation of the Daehan Empire in
the autumn of 1897. Later it became known as the Imperial Middle
School.
3. After 1900
The Korean Repository ceased publication in December, 1898.

The editors wrote in the last issue that they were suspending publication
for lack of time but hoped to resume after a few months. The English
edition of The Independent also ceased publication at about the same time.
There is no knowing if there was any connection between the two events.
The Repository was soon “replaced” by Transactions but a scholarly
publication containing just a few longer articles obviously did not serve
the same purpose and in 1901 Hulbert founded The Korea Review, which
was very similar in format and scope to the Repository and which also
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lasted for six years. However, the editorial policy of the Review was
perhaps more strongly oriented by its founder’s vision than the Repository
had been, for Hulbert had by now concluded that he had to fight a crusade
to prevent the total destruction of Korea. His main ideas included the
affirmation that Koreans were capable of the highest achievements but
oppressed by ignorance; therefore widespread education conducted in
Hangul was essential. The Christian missions, he felt, could play an
essential role, but only if they set aside denominational differences and
did not use their extraterritoriality to protect Koreans from their own laws.
The most controversial idea, one that he nourished almost to the end, was
an idealistic view of Japan as a source and model of enlightenment and
social progress, to which he opposed the Russian model of autocracy and
stagnation.
Hulbert’s positive vision of Japan and some other of his ideas, as
well his very outspoken manner of writing, were strongly opposed by
another of the founders of the RASKB, Dr. Horace N. Allen. Allen had
first come to Korea in 1884 as a Presbyterian missionary doctor stationed
in the American legation. Soon after his arrival, he saved the life of Min
Yeong-Ik, a relative of the Queen, who had been seriously injured during
the Gapsin Coup in 1884, demonstrating the value of Western medicine.
In 1887 he accompanied the first Korean legation to Washington, D.C.. In
1890, he became secretary to the American legation in Seoul. By 1897 he
was US minister and consul general. In 1904 he republished at the
Methodist Publishing House (Seoul) a volume containing his Korean
Tales (first published in New York in 1889) and his Chronological Index
(first published privately 1901/3) under the title Korea: Fact and Fancy.
Allen was increasingly convinced that Russian domination in
Korea would be better than a Japanese takeover, and his conflict with
Hulbert reached a peak during the Russo-Japanese War (February 1904 -
September 1905), during which Hulbert continued to maintain a
pro-Japanese position in the Review while criticizing the attitudes shown
toward Korea by individual Japanese. Yet throughout the same period,
Korean ministers acting without the King’s permission were signing a
series of treaties with Japan, a process that would culminate in the
notorious Japan-Korea Treaty of 1905, also known as the Eulsa Treaty,
signed by just five ministers on November 17, 1905. This gave Japan
complete responsibility for Korea’s foreign affairs, and placed all trade
through Korean ports under Japanese supervision, in effect making Korea
a protectorate of Japan.
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It was not until the September 1905 issue of the Korea Review
that Hulbert finally denounced plainly the Japanese plans for reducing
Korea to a protectorate. Then, early in October, he left for the United
States, carrying a letter for the American President signed by the Emperor,
asking the United States to prevent Japan from taking control of Korea. At
the time, nobody in Korea knew of the conversations that had been held
late in July between the Japanese prime-minister Katsura Taro and the
United States Secretary of War William Howard Taft, during which the
American had seemed to encourage the Japanese plans to take control of
Korea.
Hulbert arrived in Washington at almost exactly the same
moment as the Korean foreign minister in Seoul signed the Eulsa Treaty,
which the Japanese claimed was sufficient to ratify it. The American
government therefore refused to accept the Emperor’s protest, claiming
that the ratification of the Treaty was a matter of fact, even though the
Emperor himself had not signed it. After trying in vain to alert American
public opinion through the press, which was largely sympathetic to the
Japanese, Hulbert returned to Korea in the summer of 1906. During his
absence, friends had continued to publish the Review.
By the time Hulbert returned, all the foreign legations in Seoul
had closed. The Emperor immediately asked him to prepare to go as his
ambassador to the nations attending the Second International Peace
Conference to be held in The Hague in June 1907. His task was to contact
the major powers, asking them to support the independence of Korea. His
role was to be secret, behind the scenes, and in April 1907 the Emperor
secretly appointed three Korean representatives. They were unable to gain
access to the conference and Hulbert left The Hague only a day or so
before the Emperor abdicated on July 19. He was succeeded by his feeble
fourth son, who became known as the Yunghui Emperor, posthumously as
Sunjong. On July 24 the new ruler signed over control of the country’s
internal administration to Japan. On 22 August, 1910, the Empire of
Daehan was annexed by Japan under the Japan-Korea Annexation Treaty,
a final formality.
After a year spent trying to raise support for Korea in the United
States, Hulbert made a final visit to Seoul in the autumn of 1909; he was
there when the Korean patriot An Jung-geun assassinated the former
Japanese premier Ito Hirobumi in Harbin in October. He left soon
afterward and did not return until 1949, when he was eighty-six. Invited
by President Syngman Rhee, he arrived in Seoul on July 29, and was
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acclaimed by a large crowd. Exhausted by the journey, he died a week

later, on August 5. He was buried in the Foreigners’ Cemetery at
Yanghwajin, where his gravestone bears the inscription “I would rather be
buried in Korea than in Westminster Abbey.” His biographer, Clarence
Weems, writes: “His whole life was characterized by a singleness of
purpose, an insistence on justice for all, a demand for open discussion of
public issues, and an irrepressible tendency to believe in both the sincerity
and the worth of individuals and nations.”
In 1905 Hulbert had published the two volumes of his History of
Korea, the first such work in English. This was produced by what was
now called the Methodist Publishing House in Seoul, who also printed
Transactions. Many of the draft chapters for the History were first
published as articles in the Korea Review. His other notable publication
was The Passing of Korea (New York: Doubleday, Page & Co. 1906), a
large and impressive volume with many illustrations, introducing every
aspect of Korea to the American general public and lamenting the ongoing
destruction of its cultural identity.
4. James Scarth Gale
Hulbert’s twenty-one years in Korea were spent in intense

activity. He was more involved with social and political changes than
almost any other foreign missionary. Yet the future belonged to those who
remained more discrete. The first paper read to members of the newly
founded RASKB, “The Influence of China upon Korea,” was given by
James Scarth Gale on October 24, 1900 and it was the first paper
published in Transactions. Gale was born on February 19, 1863, in
Pilkington, Wellington County, Ontario (Canada), and graduated from
University College at the University of Toronto with a B.A. in foreign
languages in 1888. He had planned to study theology but instead left for
Korea as a missionary volunteer with the YMCA the same year. He
arrived in December 1888, and spent 1889 and 1890 preaching and
teaching English in a number of places, in northern Korea and in Busan,
before visiting Manchuria.
Clearly he worked hard to learn Korean during these years, for
after joining the American Presbyterian Mission Board in August 1891,
Gale served as member of the “Board of Official Translators” of the
Korean Bible from 1893, working with Henry G. Appenzeller, Horace G.
Underwood, William B. Scranton, and William D. Reynolds. In 1894 he
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published Korean Grammatical Forms at the Trilingual Press and in 1895

he produced a Korean translation prepared by himself and his wife of John
Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress at the same press, the first translation of
a work of English literature into Korean. In 1897 he published his
Korean-English Dictionary at Yokohama as well as Korean Sketches in
Chicago. Gale was the leading scholar of the Korean language at this time,
and he clearly enjoyed writing works of a literary kind, too. In 1897 he
returned to Canada and the USA for a year and on May 13 was ordained
as a Presbyterian minister at New Albany Presbytery, Indiana.
After returning to Korea in 1898, he became the first minister of
Yeondong Presbyterian Church in Seoul in 1900, a position he retained
until his departure in 1927. In the same year, his wife went to live in
Switzerland, presumably because of poor health, and in 1903 Gale left
Korea to spend six months with her, during which he wrote and published
his missionary tale, The Vanguard. He returned via the United States,
receiving an honorary Doctor of Divinity from Howard University,
Washington, D.C. on the way. We find him in Washington again, for a
year, in 1906 and when he returned in 1907 his wife was with him but she
died the following year, aged only forty-eight. In 1909 he published
Korea in Transition in New York; in 1910 he married Ada Louise Sale,
who had grown up in Japan. Their son, George, was born the following
year. James Gale acted as President of the RASKB for the year 1915, the
first missionary in that position.
Gale published only a few of the translations of Korean literature
he so enjoyed making: Korean Folk Tales (1913) and The Cloud Dream of
the Nine (1922). Several more volumes remain in his papers in Toronto,
still unpublished. For more than two years, from 1917 until the
Independence Movement began in March 1919, Gale edited a new
monthly magazine, the Korea Magazine, mostly written by himself. In all,
he published six papers and one translation in Transactions. Between July
1924 and September 1927, Gale published in the Korean Mission Field
magazine an almost uninterrupted series of articles on Korean history and
when the series was complete, the bound collection of offprints was
published by the Christian Literature Society as The History of the Korean
People. The number of translations of Korean poetry found in this work
shows clearly Gale’s love of literature and his fascination with Classical
Chinese. This marked the end of his activity in Korea. In June 1927 he
sailed for England, where he settled in Bath, dying there on January 31,
1937.
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5. The revival of the RASKB
The tragic death by drowning of H. G. Appenzeller in June 1902,

the increasing involvement of Hulbert in the Emperor’s affairs, the return
to England of Mark N. Trollope in 1902, the absences of Gale in 1903 and
the years following, as well as the Russo-Japanese War and the departure
of many diplomats with the closing of the legations late in 1905, all serve
to explain why the RASKB ceased all activity between 1903 and 1911.
Significantly, the first President of the RASKB, J. H. Gubbins, is recorded
(Transactions I, page 73) as having opened the meeting at which Gale
read the first paper ever given to the RASKB with a speech in which he
said: “We are a small Society, and the number of working Members--I
mean, of course, Members who are in a position to supply papers—is
necessarily small. You must not, therefore, be surprised if, when the first
flush of enthusiasm which has led to the creation of this Society has
passed, a reaction should set in.” The president of the RASKB for 1902-3
was John Newell Jordan, Consul-General in Seoul 1896-8, Chargé
d’affaires 1898-1901, and Minister resident at the Court of Korea 1901-06.
Gubbins had only been acting for him during the previous year.
When the RASKB was revived at a meeting held on January 23,
1911, the President elected was Arthur Hyde Lay (1865 - 1934). Lay was
born in China, educated in Britain and arrived in Japan in 1887 as an
interpreter trainee. From 1899 until 1902 he worked in Japan as an
interpreter but seems to have mastered Korean by 1904. He published
Chinese Characters for the Use of Students of the Japanese Language in
1898. He served as British Consul at Chemulpo (Incheon) 1911, then in
Hawai’i (1912) and Shimonoseki (1913). From 1914 until 1927 he was
British consul-general in Seoul and seems to have developed a great
interest in Korea.
Only two of the original founders of the RASKB were present at
the January 1911 meeting, James Gale and the Methodist missionary
doctor William Benton Scranton (1856-1922), who had arrived in Korea
in 1885 with his mother (who founded Ewha Hakdang, later University).
The meeting was held in his Sanitarium. In October 1911, Arthur Hyde
Lay was obliged to resign as President since he was leaving Korea. He
was replaced as President by James S. Gale who resigned in February
1916 at which Lay, now back as British Consul-General in Seoul, was
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re-elected President. One other diplomat who clearly played a vital role
during the 1911 revival was the American consul-general George
Hawthorne Scidmore (1854-1922). A career diplomat, he first came to
Yokohama in 1881 after several years in Europe, was in Oceania 1891-4,
returned to Japan and served as consul-general in Seoul 1909-13 before
becoming consul-general in Yokohama, where he died. Several meetings
were held at his invitation in the US Consulate General.
6. Mark Napier Trollope
If the RASKB remained active from its new beginning in 1911

until the outbreak of the Pacific War, one of the men most directly
responsible was the Anglican missionary Mark Napier Trollope. Born in
London on March 28, 1862, he studied at Lancing then New College,
Oxford, before studying at Cuddesdon College, Oxfordshire. He was
ordained deacon in 1887 and priest in 1888. From 1887 to 1890 he was
Curate at Great Yarmouth and while there he responded to an appeal from
Bishop Corfe in Korea for volunteers. He came to Korea in the same year.
From 1890 to 1902 he was Chaplain to the Bishop and Senior S.P.G.
Missionary, and from 1896-1902 he was Vicar General. In 1902 he
returned to England on account of the ill health of his father and served
for a time in a difficult slum parish in East London. After the death of
Bishop Turner in Seoul in 1910, there was some hesitation in London but
finally the Rev. M. N. Trollope was consecrated Bishop of Korea in St.
Paul’s Cathedral by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Davidson, assisted
by no less than four missionary and five English bishops on July 25th,
1911.
Although Trollope was not present at the inaugural meeting of
the RASKB in 1900, his name is listed among the Ordinary Members for
1900 and his paper on the island of Ganghwa was published in Volume II
of Transactions, the first of the five papers he contributed. Bishop
Trollope and James Gale were similar in many ways, not least in their
love of old books. Bishop Trollope’s library is said to have contained over
ten thousand volumes and he also established the Landis Library, a
lending library of books about Korea written in English. These books are
now in Yonsei University Library. Bishop Trollope served as President of
the RASKB 1917-19, 1922-25, 1928-30. In 1930 he was on his way back
to Korea after the Lambeth Conference when he died of heart failure after
the boat he was on was struck by another as it was entering Kobe harbor.
13
Preface
7. The Underwood family
One of the most familiar names among the Protestant

missionaries to Korea is Underwood. The first Underwood to come to
Korea was Horace Grant Underwood, who was born in London, England,
on July 19, 1859, then immigrated to the US when he was thirteen. He
arrived in Korea on the same boat as Henry G. Appenzeller on Easter
Sunday (April 5), 1885. Underwood worked with the other scholars
mentioned above on the Korean Bible, producing the New Testament in
1900, the Old Testament in 1910. His wife, Lilias Stirling (Horton)
Underwood, served as doctor to Queen Min. The Underwoods were
frequent guests in the palace, and the King relied greatly on them after the
Queen’s murder. In 1900, Underwood is listed as an ordinary member of
the RASKB. Underwood and James Scarth Gale established the Seoul
YMCA in the same year. In 1915, Underwood became the president of the
Chosen Christian College, the predecessor of Yonsei University. He wrote
several books on Korea, including The Call of Korea. His wife also wrote,
publishing Fifteen Years among the Topknots or Life in Korea in 1905 and
Underwood of Korea in 1918, after her husband’s death. In 1916 he
returned to the US in ill health and died almost at once.
His son Horace Horton Underwood (1890–1951) was the most
accomplished member of the family. Born in Seoul, he went to the US to
study education and psychology in 1906, returning to Korea in 1912.
Further periods in the US followed in 1916-7 and from 1925, when he
studied for a Ph.D. in Psychology. From the time of his first return to
Korea he was active in the RASKB, serving as its President after the death
of Bishop Trollope from 1931-3, 1938-1940 and 1948-9. He was active in
a multitude of church organizations and school boards, served as an
honorary associate pastor at Saemunan Presbyterian Church, an editor of
the Christian News, a member of the board of Seoul Foreign School,
president of the Seoul Union Club, chair of the Presbyterian Church
Mission Committee, Department of Mission Educational Council Chair,
and a representative of the Korean Mission Council. In 1934, he was
appointed the third president of Yonhui College (Chosen Christian
College or Gyeongsin School). He was still in Korea when the Pacific
War began, was repatriated by the Japanese in 1942 and returned to Korea
soon after Liberation. His wife Ethel was murdered during an attack on
14
Preface
their house by communists in 1949. He was in the US when the Korean

War began, returned despite poor health, and died in Busan early in 1951.
Their son Horace Grant Underwood II (1917–2004) served as an
interpreter in the Korean War armistice talks and was elected President of
the RASKB when it resumed activities in 1957, then again in 1992-3 and
2000-1.
8. The other authors of papers
Regarding the papers reprinted in this volume, it may be said that

they reflect many of the differing approaches to Korea suggested earlier. It
is significant that the first two papers ever published in Transactions,
James S. Gale’s “The Influence of China upon Korea” (Volume I, pages
1-24) and Homer B. Hulbert’s “Korean Survivals” with the following
“Discussion” (Volume I, pages 25-50), express in strongly contrasting
terms fundamental questions about Korea’s cultural identity. We have
already seen that the two men stood on opposite sides of the choice facing
Korea at the time of modernization. That Gale was instinctively drawn to
the ancient, the traditional, can be seen in the archaic English style of his
poetry translations, as well as by his intense interest in Chinese verse. In
contrast, we have seen the extent to which Hulbert was an ardent
supporter of the reformist modernizing program, which demanded
widespread use of Hangul and even the complete abolition of Chinese
characters. In their papers the two men differ profoundly on the depth and
scale of the Chinese and the non-Chinese elements forming the Korean
cultural identity. The very frank Discussion that follows Hulbert’s paper is
unparalleled in future issues of Transactions. For Gale, everything good
was Chinese and he saw no problem in that; for Hulbert, Korea’s deepest
roots were essentially non-Chinese and his vision can fruitfully be
compared with post-Independence Korean views of Korean identity.
It is perhaps significant that after this initial battle, the papers
presented to the RASKB and published in Transactions tended to focus on
either the antiquities and monuments of Korea, or on aspects of its already
vanishing traditional culture. The field was wide open, for this was the
first time that scholarly men had tried to write in detail about things
Korean. Previously, most of what was written was either in the form of
travel narratives and anecdotes or of brief notes. George Heber Jones’s
“The Spirit Worship of the Koreans” (Volume II, pages 37-58) is a
fascinating first study of Korean Shamanism and it is preceded by Mark N.
15
Preface
Trollope’s first contribution, on the antique monuments of Ganghwa

Island. It is striking, too, to find these Protestant missionaries writing
detailed and sympathetic accounts of Buddhist remains, culminating in
Trollope’s “Introduction to the Study of Buddhism in Korea” (Volume
VIII, pages 1-41). The other articles in this collection often provide almost
the only information available about cultural practices that did not long
survive, be it the cultivation of ginseng, the traditional practices related to
marriage and divorce, or good-luck charms, while Horace H.
Underwood’s first paper on hunting and hunters (Volume VI part II, pages
23-43) is an almost unique source of information. Equally significant, the
RASKB clearly avoided any topic touching on current social or political
issues, reflecting a concern to avoid getting into trouble with the Japanese.
The first Vice-President of the RASKB was the Rev. Dr. George
Heber Jones, a scholarly Methodist missionary born in Mohawk, NY on
Aug 14, 1867. In 1887 the Methodist Episcopal Mission Board appointed
him to Korea, where he was at first connected with Pai Chai High School
and College in Seoul. In 1892 he moved to Chemulpo (Incheon), where he
was stationed for the next ten years. Proficient in Korean and a member of
the Board of Translators of the Bible, he was one of the founding editors
of and a regular contributor to the Korean Repository, and later wrote for
the Korea Review, as well as being the founder and editor of the Sin-hak
Wol-po, a Korean-language theological review. One of his main interests
seems to have been the comparative study of religions and this is reflected
in his three contributions to Transactions. Returning to the U.S. in 1903,
he worked as one of the secretaries of the Mission Board, and in 1905
lectured in Iowa. In 1907 Jones came back to Korea and became president
of the Bible Institute of Korea and Theological Seminary of the Methodist
Church. He returned permanently to the U.S. in 1911 to care for his
elderly parents and died in 1919. His published works in English include:
Korea, the Land, People and Customs (1907), The Korea Mission of the
Methodist Episcopal Church (1910), and Christian medical work in Korea
(1910?). He is remembered in Korea as one of the editors of the first
Korean hymn book.
Dr. Newton H. Bowman, the author of “The History of Korean
Medicine” (Volume VI, pages 1 – 34), lived in Korea from 1908 until
1913, a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church’s mission, and served
at Severance Union Medical College as a doctor. His extremely scholarly
paper on “The History of Korean Medicine” provides not only lists of
the main books transmitting Oriental Medicine and summaries of their
16
Preface
contents but recipes for particular medicines and three anatomical charts,
the second and third printed in color! That a practitioner of western
medicine should have acquired so much knowledge of the utterly different
practices of oriental medicine is quite amazing.
Charles Thomas Collyer, the author of “The Culture and
Preparation of Ginseng in Korea” (Volume III, pages 18-30), was born in
Twickenham, England in 1868 and came to Korea in 1897 to work with
the Methodist mission after spending several years in Shanghai working
for the British and Foreign Bible Society. He was supervisor of mission
work in the region of Songdo (Gaeseong) from 1900 until 1906 and again
from 1909. He left Korea in 1919. In November 1920 he arrived in Prague,
Czechoslovakia, where he worked selling bibles (“colportage”) until late
in 1923, when he returned to the US and became a Methodist minister
there. He died in 1944.
P. L. (Philip Loring) Gillett was born on October 21, 1872, the
son of a surgeon who died early, so the young Gillett worked his way
through high school and college as a janitor. He graduated from Colorado
College in 1897, having played in the college’s football and baseball
teams. After training, in 1901 he came to Korea to act as the Secretary
General of Seoul YMCA, of which Homer B. Hulbert was the President.
He is reputed to have been the person who first taught Koreans to play
baseball and basketball. Baseball games began in 1905 and within a few
years it became very popular. In 1913, serious conflicts within the Seoul
YMCA obliged him to move to China, where he worked for the YMCA
until 1932, finally returning to the US where he died on November 26,
1938.
The authors of the papers published in this volume were mostly
missionaries but there were exceptions. Edwin W. Mills, the author of
“Gold Mining in Korea” (Volume VII, pages 5-39), was actively engaged
in the work he wrote about. He received his degree in mining engineering
from Harvard University in 1902 and for many years worked as a mining
engineer in Korea and perhaps other parts of eastern Asia. During World
War I, he worked for the Navy intelligence in Siberia. He returned to the
United States in 1930, and he continued to operate mines and be
associated with mining in Arizona until his death in 1956.
Frederick Starr (1858-1933), the author of “Corean Coin Charms
and Amulets” (Volume VIII, pages 42-79), became a professor of
anthropology at the University of Chicago in 1892. He traveled to and
wrote about many different countries, in Africa as well as in Asia. He
17
Preface
made a first visit to Japan in 1904 and spent 1909-10 there. In all he
visited Japan fourteen times, dying there on his final visit. He first visited
Korea in 1911, when he gave a talk to the RASKB on dolmens. He
returned to Korea three times, then in 1918 published his book Korean
Buddhism: History - Condition - Art. Three Lectures (Boston: Marshall
Jones), the first full-length study of its topic, with fascinating illustrations.
Almost the entire Bibliography consists of papers published in
Transactions about Korean Buddhism, which at the time was an unknown
topic. He made another two visits to Korea after that, and in 1922-3
offered a course in “Korean ethnography” at Chicago.
7. Conclusion
The life, culture and antiquities of Korea have never been a

major topic of interest in the West, compared to China and Japan. By
publishing Transactions, the members of the RASKB hoped that they
might help inform the scholars and public of North America and Europe
about the country to which many of them had devoted their entire lives.
Unfortunately, few western libraries have complete runs of the journal,
even though the earlier volumes were reprinted by the RASKB. It is to be
hoped that by making these texts freely available online this lack can be
remedied. May the selection of articles published here serve as a memorial
to the remarkable men who wrote them.
Special thanks are due to Mr. Robert Neff, who made valuable
corrections to the Preface. Above all, we are very grateful to Robert
Felsing, East Asian Bibliographer at the University of Oregon, for
providing scans of the plates from original copies of Transactions for this
volume.
Sources and additional reading
A biography of Homer B. Hulbert can be found on pages ED 23-62 of the

first volume of : Homer B. Hulbert, History of Korea, edited by Clarence
Norwood Weems. New York: Hillary House Publishers. 1962.
For a full biography of Bishop Trollope see:

Constance Trollope, Mark Napier Trollope: Bishop in Korea 1911-1930.
London: SPCK. 1936.
18
Preface
For the biography of James Scarth Gale see:

Richard Rutt (ed), A Biography of James Scarth Gale and a New Edition
of his History of the Korean People. Seoul: RASKB. 1972, 1983.
An outline chronology of James Gale’s life can be found in the guide to

the Gale Archive at the University of Toronto Library:
http://www.library.utoronto.ca/fisher/collections/findaids/gale2005.pdf
William Elliot Griffis, A Modern Pioneer in Korea: the Life Story of

Henry G. Appenzeller. New York: Fleming H. Revell, 1912.
The complete printed set of Transactions can be obtained from the office
of the RASKB:
http://www.raskb.com/
19
From: Transactions of the Korea Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society
Volume I. 1900
[page 1]
The Influence of China upon Korea.

By Rev. Jas. S. Gale, B.A. [James Scarth Gale]
For three thousand years the Great Empire (大國 Tā-guk) has forced its
history and teachings upon the little Eastern Kingdom (東國 Tong-guk),
with evident desire to annex the same, not so much by force of arms as by
appropriating the thoughts and minds of men, How well she has
succeeded let us endeavour to see.
Korea, in her relations with China, has ever been called the East
Kingdom or Eastern State (東國 Tong-guk or 東方 Tong-bang), while
China is none other to her than Tā-guk, the Great Empire, or Chung-guk
(中國), the Middle Kingdom. This in itself, by its expression of
relationship, will give a hint as to the influences that have been at work
through the centuries gone by.
In a brief survey of this influence it will be necessary to note first
just at what periods the Empire has touched the Peninsula.
In 1122 B.C. the Viscount of Keui (箕子), a man great in the
history of China, who refused allegiance to the one that let him out of
prison because in his mind he was a usurper, and swore unending fealty to
the tyrant that put him there, because in his mind he ruled by the divine
right of kings-this Chinaman. Keui-ja (箕子), made his way to the East
Kingdom, set up his capital in P’yŭng-yang (平壤), and became, first and
foremost, the father of Korea. Being a famous scholar, the author, no less,
of the Great Plan (洪範 Hong-pŭm), one of the most important sections
of the Book of History, it is not surprising that his name has come down to
us over a period of three thousand years.
In his train came some five thousand followers, men who were
equally faithful to the traditions of the fathers, and who refused allegiance
to the usurping Chus (周). [This interpretation [page 2] of loyalty exists so
universally in the minds of Koreans, and is so firmly embedded there, that we are
inclined to think it was learned of Keui-ja, or at some distant date very long ago.]
20
The Influence of China on Korea
But most important of all, were the writings and customs introduced at
this time: they are said to be poetry (詩 Si), history (書 Sŭ), ceremony
(禮 Ye), music (樂 Ak), medicine (醫 Eui), witchcraft (巫 Mu), the
principles of life (陰陽 Eum-yang), divination (卜筮 Pok-sŭ), and
various arts (百工 Păk-kong). These embrace most of Korea’s present
civilization, and certainly they include what has had more to do with
Korean thought and custom than any other influence, namely, the
Eum-yang or the two principles in nature.
Ki-ja also gave his adopted people laws for the protection of
society. A note is appended here in the old history, which is interesting in
the light of the present day. “He found the character of the people fierce
and violent,”and so, with the express purpose of influencing them by an
object lesson, he planted many willows, the willow being by nature a
gentle yielding tree. For this reason P’yŭng-yang was called the
“Willow Capital,” and to this day letters addressed to that city are marked
Yu-kyung (柳京) the Willow Capital.
In 193 B.C. a Chinese general called Wi-man (衛滿), who had
made his escape on the fall of the Chin (秦) dynasty, marched into
P’yŭng-yang and drove out Keui-jun (箕準), the descendant and successor
of Keui-ja, forty-two generations removed. Wi-man, who has no place of
honour reserved him in any of Korea’s temples of fame, has surely been
overlooked, for while he brought nothing of literature to commemorate his
invasion, he brought the top-knot, which still stands in the forefront of
Korean civilization.
A friend of mine, who loves the ancients, was scandalized one
day by his eldest son coming home with top-knot cut. He beat the boy,
and then sat for three days in sackcloth and ashes fasting for the son who
had been lost to him by the severing of the top-knot. A good Confucianist
also who accompanied me to Yokohama, was so pestered by remarks
about his head ornamentation that he was obliged to have it cut. The
Japanese barber, smiling broadly, asked, “How can you ever repay the
favour I do you?” The friend replied, in Korean, under his breath, “To
behead you, you wretch, [page 3] would be the only fit pay.” It is one of the
great gifts of China―cherished and prized and blessed is the top-knot.
On the entrance of Wi-man, Ki-jun went south to Keum-ma
(金馬) or modern Ik-san(益山) of Chulla Province (全羅道), where he set
up the kingdom of Ma-han (馬韓), of course carrying with him the
Chinese civilization and customs of his forefathers. We are told that the
people of these regions were uncivilized; that though they built their walls
21
of mud and thatched their huts, yet they made the door through the roof.
[Would this account for the fact that there is no native word for door, and that we
have only the Chinese word mun (門)?] They valued not gold or silver or silk,
but were brave and skilful at handing the bow and the spear.
At this time also, fugitives from the Chin (秦) kingdom, who had
made their way across the Yellow Sea to Mahan, were given land to the
east, which they called Chin-han (辰韓). They set up their capital at
Kyöng-ju (慶州) and became a subject state paying tribute to Mahan.
Thus at the beginning of the second century B.C. we find a
Chinaman ruling at P’yŭng-yang, the descendent of another Chinaman at
Ik-san, and fugitives from the Chin kingdom of China in authority at
Kyöng-ju.
Following this, in 107 B.C. when U-kǔ (右渠) the grandson of
Wi-man, failed to pay tribute, Mu (武帝) of the Han dynasty took forcible
possession of all North Korea, and divided it into four provinces, making
Nak-nang (樂浪) of P’yǔng-an (平安), Nim-dun (臨屯) of Kang-wǔn
(江原), Hyǔn-t’o (玄免) of Ham-kyǔng (咸鏡), and Chin-bun (眞蕃) of
Pāk-tu-san (白頭山).
In 81 B.C. these were combined by the Chinese Emperor So into
two. Thus we see China’s hand, at the opening of the Christian era,
stretching all the way from the Ever-white Mountain to the far south.
In 246 A.D. there was war between Pē (廢帝) of the Wi (魏)
dynasty and Ko-gu-ryŭ (高句麗), in which 60,000 Chinese are said to
have perished. Ko-gu-ryŭ, by an act of treachery, assassinated the Chinese
general, whose forces were then compelled to retire. This was the first
time that Korea seems to have held her own though the fact is, that she
was entirely under Chinese leadership. [page 4]
In 296 A.D. an attack was made on Ko-gu-ryŭ by the Yŭn (燕)
emperor of China and victory gained, but on digging up the remains of
Sŭ-ch’un (西川), the king’s father — who had died in 266 — many of the
Chinese soldiers were killed by repeated shocks of terror, and finally
sounds of music emanated from the grave. This so impressed the general
with the fact that great spirits were in possession of the place, that he
withdrew from the campaign and led his soldiers home.
Spirit sounds disturb the peace of the people of the Peninsula
more than any household cares or anxieties for material things. Many of
you, no doubt, have heard it said that on damp cloudy days the spirits of
those killed in the Japan war of 1592 still collect in South Whang-hă and
terrorize the country with their wailings, and that dragon horses are heard
22
neighing night after night. This spirit thought has come from China and is
most deeply rooted in the native’s being. I once said to a hunter, who was
going into the mountains late at night. “Are you not afraid to venture in
the dark?” His reply was, “I wait in attendance on the mountain spirit and
so have no need to fear.”
The superstitious terror that drove back the Yŭn general still
exists. Last December a man of some note in church circles was drowned
in the Han River. I am told that his spirit comes out of the water
frequently and alarms the people of Hāng-ju,
In 372 A.D. when Ku-bu (丘夫) was king of Ko-gu-ryŭ,
Emperor Kan-mun (簡文) of the Chin (晋) dynasty sent over Buddhist
sûtras (佛經), images and priests, and from that date Buddhism existed in
the Eastern Kingdom. Buddhism has been one of the secondary influences
in Korea, though at the present time it is relegated to an entirely obscure
place and is of no reputation. At this time also schools were established
for the study of the Classics.
In 612 A.D., in the reign of Yung-yang (嬰陽), Yang (楊帝) of
the Su (隨) dynasty, who became enraged at the failure of Ko-gu-ryŭ to
pay tribute, sent an army of 1,133,800 men, in twenty-four divisions,
twelve on each side. The history reads “extending its array like the
limitless sea,” the object of the invasion being to utterly destroy
Ko-gu-ryŭ. [page 5] After much fighting in which Eul-ji-mun-tŭk
(乙支文德) led the soldiers of Korea, the Chinese army, wasted and
famished, beat a retreat. They reached the Ch’ung-ch’ung (淸淸) river,
and there before them seven Spirit Buddhas walked backwards and
forwards in mid stream, in such a way as to allure them to destruction,
making them think that the water was shallow. Half and more of them
were drowned and the remainder are said to have fled to the Yalu, 450 li,
in a day and a night. Only 2,700 of the vast army returned home. Korea
has erected seven temples outside of An-ju, near the river where
deliverance was wrought for her, the seven temples corresponding to the
seven Spirit Buddhas.
The Su dynasty of China has but little place in the thought of
Korea. The O-ryun-hăng-sil (五倫行實) tells only three stories selected
from its history, two illustrative of filial piety and one of wifely devotion;
but the second emperor of that dynasty, Su-yang, is remembered as the
swell emperor of all time, his name to-day being the synonym for
over-dress and extravagance.
We come now to the time of greatest influence, the period of the
23
Tangs (唐). In the year 627 A.D., the Chinese Emperor Ko-jo (高祖)
united all the known world under his sway, and received from the three
kingdoms of Ko-gu-ryŭ (高句麗), Păk-che (百濟) and Sil-la (新羅),
tribute and ambassadors. He gave to the king of Ko-gu-ryŭ the title Duke
of So-tong, to the king of Păk-che Duke of Tă-pang, and to king of Sil-la
Duke of Nak-nang.
In 632 A.D. the Queen of Sil-la, Tŭk-man (德曼), received a
present from Tă-jong (代宗), the second emperor of the Tangs, consisting
of a picture of the peony and several of the flower seeds. She remarked on
seeing it that there were no butterflies in the picture and that she
concluded the flower must have no perfume — a surmise which proved to
be correct. From that date the peony became the king of flowers in Korea,
which too tells its story of China’s influence.
In 651 A.D. the king of Sil-la sent his two sons to wait on the
emperor of the Tangs. One was a noted Confucian scholar, acquainted
likewise with Buddhism and Taoism, and him the emperor made Minister
of the Left. It seems as though the [page 6] bond that had for a time been
loosened during the minor dynasties of China, was once again tightening.
In 660 A.D. T’ă-jong of Sil-la sent to China for help against the
kingdom of Păk-che, and Emperor Ko-jong (高宗) sent in response
130,000 soldiers. After a long and hard struggle Păk-che and Ko-gu-ryŭ
were wiped out. At the close of the war the Tang general, Sŭ Chung-bang
(蘇正方), took as prisoners from Păk-che, King Eui-ja, the crown prince,
many courtiers, eighty-eight generals, and 12,807 of the people. From
Ko-ku-ryö he took King Po-jang, his three sons and over 200,000 of the
people. A great feast of rejoicing was held in the capital of the Tangs and
sacrifice was offered to the spirits of the dead.
For 246 years Korea’s name was Sil-la, though it was in reality
only a province of the Tang kingdom.
Like a small voice comes the single word concerning Japan “In
the year 673 A.D. the name of Wă-guk (倭國) was changed to Il-pon
(日本).”
In 684 A.D. a noted character appears upon the scene, whose
name was Sŭl-ch’ong (薜聽). His is the first name mentioned in the
Yu-hyŭl-lok (儒賢錄) or Record of Noted Men. His father was a famous
Buddhist and his mother a Chinese woman of rank. His influence was
equal to his attainments, which were entirely of a Chinese order. He
taught the Classics (經書 Kyŭng-sǔ) and so edited and prepared them that
posterity might understand their thought. He invented also the Ni-t’u
24
(吏套), as explained in the Korean Repository of February, 1898, by Mr.

Hulbert. They are forms for endings and connectives indicated by Chinese
characters and they prove that Sǔl-ch’ong was in every way a
representative of the influence of Chinese teaching and philosophy.
His is the first Korean name that appears as one of the spirits
attendant on Confucius in the Mun Temple (文廟). His stand is number
forty-eight on the east side of the Master. See Cho-tu-rok (俎豆錄).
Under the gentle hint of a figure he once warned King Sin-mun
of Sil-la against the increasing influence of the palace women. Said he,
“In days gone by, when His Highness the Peony came to live among us,
he was planted in the park, and in spring time bloomed and grew with
beautiful [page 7] stalk and highly coloured flowers. The Peach and Plum
came to pay their respects. There came likewise a maiden-flower, the
Cinnamon Rose, green-cloaked and red-skirted, tripping nimbly along, to
say to the king, ‘This humble person has heard in her obscurity of Your
Majesty’s munificence, and comes to ask if she may share the palace.’
Then there entered the Old Man Flower, Păk-tu-ong, wearing sack-cloth
and bowing on his staff. He said ‘Outside the city on the road-way I hear
it said that though Your Majesty has viands of every richness, yet you
need medicine. Though you dress in Chinese silk, yet need a common
knife-string as well. Is it not so?’ The peony king replied ‘The old man’s
words are true, I understand them; yet it is hard to dispense with the
Cinnamon Rose,’ ‘But remember,’ said the gray-bearded flower, ‘that if
you company with the wise and prudent, your reign will prosper; but if
with the foolish, Your Majesty will fall. The woman Ha-heui (憂姬)
destroyed the Chin dynasty; the woman Sǔ-si (西施), the O (吳) dynasty
(both of China); Mencius died without meeting a man that could save the
day; P’ung-dang (馮唐) held only a low office till he was white with age.
If it was so with the ancients, how will it be now in our day?’ King Peony
replied ‘Peccavi; I shall mend my ways.’ When Sin-mun (神門) heard this
allegory, his countenance coloured and he said ‘Your words are full of
thought.”
I mention the story to show you the mind of Sǔl-ch’ong, for he is
regarded as the first of Korean scholars, yet the persons, the kingdoms, the
pictures that occupy his thoughts are all of China.
At this particular time attention seems to have been drawn
suddenly to signs and omens. For example, in 766 A.D., two suns are said
to have arisen in one day; three meteors fell into the palace enclosure, and
a comet appeared in the west — all boding evil. This is taught by the
25
Confucian classic Spring and Autumn, where earthquakes, comets,

eclipses, are spoken of as portents of evil, death to kings, etc,
I find in the book A-heui-wǔl-lam (兒戱原覽), which is a primer
for children and an ideal book from a Korean point of view, a chapter on
omens and signs, citing examples of these since the days of Yo and Sun,
and there are storms of blood, [page 8] showers of rice, hail stones of rocks,
rain squalls of sticks, frosts of white hair, tiger and snake stories that
out-do the wildest West. All of which are referred to particular times in
China.
When General Kim-nak of Ko-ryǔ (高麗) died on the battle-field,
King Tă-jo made an image in his honour and called all the ministers to a
feast. When wine was drunk, he passed some to the image, and lo! it
opened its mouth, swallowed the spirit and then danced before them. This
also was an omen.
At this time the matter of filial piety became so firmly fixed in
the Korean’s mind, and of such distorted importance, that he began from
the year 765 A.D., to cut off fingers, etc., to feed parents on the blood.
The practice of blood-feeding seems to be of Korean origin. It certainly
shows how the native has attempted to out-do Confucius in his fidelity to
this particular teaching of the master. A short time ago I saw a man who
had lost a finger of the left hand, and on inquiry he showed me a
certificate that he had received from the government expressive of their
approval of his filial piety.
The second name mentioned in the Record of Noted Men, is that
of Ch’oé Chi-wǔn (崔致遠), who was also a Kyöng-ju man. His influence
ranks next to that of Sǔl-chong, and we look for the place that China had
in his life. We are told that he made a journey to the Tang kingdom when
he was twelve years of age, that he graduated at eighteen and lived in
China sixteen years.
He and Sǔl-ch’ong are the two seers of Ancient Korea, and theirs
are the only names of Sil-la that appear in the Confucian temple; his being
forty-eighth on the west side, corresponding to Sǔl-ch’ong’s, forty-eighth
on the east. These two show in how far the influence of China had
extended toward the minds and thoughts of the people of the Peninsula at
that date and what prestige an acquaintance with the Tang kings gave to
each one in his own country.
From the accession of Wang-gǔn (王建), King of Ko-ryǔ, in 918
A.D., we read constantly of dragons and of references to dragons.
Wang-gǔn was said to be bright in mind, dragon faced and square-browed.
26
With him came astrology (天時 Ch’un-si) and geography (地理 Chi-ri),
handed down from [page 9] Mencius; military forms (戰法 Chǔn-pǔp),
from Kang T’ă-gong (姜太公), andh spiritualism (神明 Sin-myung) from
all the seers.
Signs and omens, all viewed from the point of and described in
the terms of Chinese philosophy, pointed to the call of Wang-gǔn and the
establishment of the capital in Song-do.
We read (Tong-guk T’ong-gam) that the king chose a day (擇日
Tăk-il) for the opening of the ancient treasure-houses The term Tăk-il, or
Choice of Day, has come down to us from the Sǔ-jǔn or Book of History.
The most illiterate native in the country, when he says “The attainment
of health and blessing (生氣福德 Sāng keui pok tǔk) depends on the
choice of day (Tāk-il),” bears witness to the universal influence of the
most dignified of Chinese Classics — even the Canon of History.
In 933 A.D., the Imperial Calendar first made its way to Korea,
and with it came the emperor’s sanction of the new name, Ko-ryǔ, for the
united kingdom.
In 958 A.D., in the reign of Kwang-jong, another factor entered,
showing the influence of China, and serving to bind Korea still closer to
her, and that was the Kwa-gū (Examination). It dealt with the Confucian
Classics only, and was an examination in Si (詩), Pu (賦), Eui (義),
Eui-sim (疑心), P’yo (表), Ch’ăk (策) and Kang-gyǔng (講經), as it
developed afterwards, though at that time it was called Si, Pu, Song (頌)
and Ch’ăk. Si is the name of a poetic composition of eighteen couplets,
with seven characters to the line; Pu consists of twenty couplets of six
cgaracters; Eui and Eui-sim deal with the explanation of set passages;
P’yo has to do with memorial forms; Ch’ăk answers questions, and
Kang-gyăng is an oral examination.
This national ceremony, imported from China, has shaken the
country from end to end, and every eye since then has seen the influence
of the Kwa-gǔ.
In the reign of Sǔng-jong, who came to the throne in 982 A.D.,
among a set of rules proposed by the scholar Ch’oé Seung-no, the
eleventh reads. “In poetry, history, ceremony, music, and the five
cardinal relationships, (O-ryun) let us follow China, but in riding and
dressing let us be Koreans.”
At this time war began with the Kǔ-ran (契丹) Tartars, for Korea
steadily resisted any advance on the part of these, [page 10] claiming that
she owed allegiance to great China only — then the Songs — and not to
27
barbarian tribes.
In 1022 A.D. we read that Han Cho (韓祚) brought from China
literature dealing with subjects which till to-day absorb the minds and
fortunes of Koreans. They were the Chi-ga-sǔ (地家書), or Writings
Pertaining to Geomancy; the Yang-t’ăk Chip-ch’an (陽宅集撰), the Law
of House Selection, and the Sǔk-chǔn (釋典), Rules for the Two Yearly
Sacrifices offered to Confucius. We also read of the Keui-u-je (祈雨祭) or
Sacrifice for Rain, which His Majesty observed. I believe, in this year of
grace 1900.
At this time General Kang Kam-ch’an, a Korean who had
defeated the Tartar tribes, was highly complimented by Injong, the
emperor of the Songs. He sent an ambassador to bow to Kam-ch’an and to
say to him that he was the Mun-gok constellation that had fallen upon
Korea. This too is in the language of Chinese astrology.
In the year 1057 A.D., near Whang-ju, a meteor fell that startled
the people greatly. The magistrate sent it up to Seoul and the Minister of
Ceremony said, “At such and such a time a meteor fell in the Song
kingdom, and other stars fell elsewhere in China. There is nothing strange
or unusual about it.” So they returned the stone to Whang-ju. This
constant reference to the Great Empire shows in what measure at that date
Korea was under its influence. At this time also a Chinaman called
Chang-wan (張瑗), made a copy of writings, on Tun-gap (遁甲 magic)
and Keui-mun (奇文 legerdemain), brought them to Korea and had them
placed in the government library.
The more we read the more are we forced to the conclusion that
Korea was under a mesmeric spell at the hands of the Great Middle
Kingdom. The (O-hăng) Five Elements or Primordial Essences, as they
appear in the Great Plan to the Book of History, written by the Viscount
of Keui, perhaps more than any other teaching, had already taken full
possession of Korea. Let me read this to you as a sample from the
Tong-guk Tong-gam (東國通鑑): “In the first month of Eul-hă (1095 A.D.)
the sun had on each side of it glaring streamers or arrows, with a white
bow shot through the centre. Six days later the same phenomena were
repeated,” and all the [page 11] people waited to see what the omen meant.
“In the second moon when the king desired to muster out the troops, the
chief minister said: ‘Soldiers are designated by the symbol metal (金),
spring by wood (木), Metal cuts wood, so if you move troops in spring
time you will oppose the fixed laws of nature (天地生生之理 Ch’ǔn chi
săng săng chi ri).’ The king did not regard this counsel and so he died in
28
the fifth moon.”

In 1106 A.D. we have another example of divining by the Book
of Changes before King Ye-jong went out to fight the Lao-tung Tartars.
Little remains to be noted in the history of Korea, as the great
period of China’s influence closes with the Tangs. It is true that the Song
dynasty that followed was greatly honoured, and thirty four stories in the
O-ryun-hăng-sil are taken from its history. The Mings too have been
remembered and revered because they brought to an end the hated
barbarian Wǔn dynasty, which had been set up by the descendants of
Gengis in 1280 A.D.. To quote from a native author, “The Barbarian Wǔn
destroyed the Song dynasty, took possession of all the empire and ruled
for a hundred years. Such power in the hands of vandals was never seen
before, Heaven dislikes the virtue of the barbarian. Then it was that the
great Ming empire, from mid-heaven, in communication with sages and
spirits of the past, set up its reign of endless ages. But alas! the Doctrine
of Duty (三綱 Sam-gang) and the Five Constituents of Worth (五常之道
O-sang ji-do), along with Heaven and Earth had seen their first and last.
Before the time of the Three Kingdoms (夏 Ha, 殷 Eun, and 周 Chu
1122 B.C.), holy emperors, intelligent kings, honest courtiers and
conscientious ministers conferred together; days of peace were many,
days of war few; but after the Three Kingdoms, vile rulers, turbulent
ministers and traitors together worked ruin; days of war were many, days
of peace few. Thus the state rises and falls according as the Great
Relationships are emphasized or forgotten. Should we Koreans not be
careful?”
“The founder of the Mings (明),” who was a personal friend of
Tă-jo, the father of the present dynasty, “gave our [page 12] country a name,
even Cho-sǔn, and placed our rice kettle at Han-yang.”
You will notice from this that the Golden Age of Korea existed
not in the Peninsula, but in China, and at a date prior to 1122 B.C. or the
time of Keui-ja.
Later, in the Japan war, the Mings saved Cho-sǔn, and so to-day
the only tan or altar in the city of Seoul is called Tă Bo-tan (大報壇), the
Great Altar of Thankfulness erected in their honour, and six times a year
sacrifice is offered to the three Ming emperors who had showed Cho-sǔn
special favour.
The Ch’ūngs (淸) of the present day are Manchu Tartars,
barbarians of course, and their dynasty has no place of honour whatever in
the mind of Korea.
29
As mentioned before, the great period of influence closes with

the Tangs and with the consolidation of the Peninsula into one kingdom
under Ko-ryǔ. Until to-day Tang stands par excellence for all that is
specially noted of China. Tang-yǔn is a Chinese ink-stone; Tang-in, a
Chinaman; Tang-wha geui, Chinese porcelain; Tang-hong, Chinese red
dye; Tang ko-keum, Chinese ague or intermittant fever; Tang-mūk,
Chinese ink; Tang-myǔn, Chinese vermicelli; Tang-mok, Chinese or
foreign cotton goods; Tang-na-gwi, Chinese donkeys; Tang-nyǔ, Chinese
women; Tang-p’an, Chinese printed letters; Tang-sa, Chinese thread;
Tang-sun, Chinese fans and Chinese junks; Tang-jā, Chinese medicine;
Tang-ji, Chinese paper; Tang-ch’im, Chinese needles, Tang-ch’o, Chinese
pepper, etc., etc.
The histories that are read in native schools are never of Korea,
but of China, and they all close with the Tang dynasty, if we except the
short outline in the Tong-mong-sǔn-seup (童蒙先習). The T’ong-gam
(通鑑), a work written by Chu-ja (朱子) of the Song dynasty, which is the
regular history read by all scholars, deals with China from the Chus to the
fall of the Tang dynasty. The Sa-ryok (史略) covers the time between Yo
and Sun (堯舞) and the fall of the Tangs. The Sǔ-jun (書僔), or
Confucian Canon of History, takes us from the days of Yo and Sun to the
Three Kingdoms (Ha, Eun, Chu).
The impress of China has been so deep and lasting that Korean
native histories are not only not studied, but are exceedingly hard to
obtain. The Tong-guk Tong-gam is not [page 13] sold in any of the
book-stores, and yet it is a history of Korea dealing with the period from
2317 B.C. to 1392 A.D.
Korea has no native sages or Söng-in (聖人). Her sages, who are
revered and worshipped high as the heavens, all come from China. Her
first-rate sages or holy men are eight in number. Six of them are kings, Yo
(堯), Sun (舜), U (禹), T’ang (湯), Mun (文), Mu (武), and two of them
scholars, Chu-gong (周公) and Kong-ja (孔子) or Confucius. Her
second-rate sages are An-ja (顔子), Cheung-ja (曾子), Cha-sa, (子思) and
Māng-ja (孟子) Mencius, whose names appear next to that of Confucius
in the Mun (文廟) Temple or TāSūng-jǔn (大成殿).
Of those marked Ch’ŭl, (善) Wise Men, there are ten who have
places of honour in the same temple, and they are all Chinamen, six are of
No (魯), the native state of Confucius, two of Wi (魏), one of O (吳) and
one of Chin (秦).
Those of next rank, marked Hyŭn-in (賢人), Superior Men, are
30
six in number, all of the Song dynasty. Below these are the disciples, one
hundred and ten in all; ninety-four are Chinese and sixteen are Korean.
The two of Sil-la are Sŭl-ch’ong and Ch’oé Chi-wŭn who were mentioned
before. There are two of Ko-ryŭ, An-yu (安裕), number forty-nine on the
east side, and Chöng Mong-ju (鄭夢周), number forty-nine on the west.
Why does this man of Ko-ryŭ, Anyu, hold a place among all these holy
Chinamen? For this reason: he went to China in 1275 A.D. and brought
home pictures of Confucius and of his seventy disciples, also dishes, for
sacrifice; musical instruments; the Six Classics — the Book of Changes,
Book of History, Book of Poetry, Ceremonies of Chu-gong, the Canon of
Rites and the Annals of Confucius. He gave one hundred slaves to serve in
the Confucian temple. Up to this time there had been no Confucian
colleges. He made his home the first college, and so put into motion a
force that was soon to overwhelm Buddhism and all minor native
superstitions. He wrote a verse that is preserved still in the paragraph on
his life in the Record of Noted Men “All the incense lights burn to Buddha.
From house to house they pipe to demons, but the little hut of the teacher
has its yard o’ergrown with grass, for no one enters there.” [page 14]
The other honoured one is Chöng Mong-ju. We are told that he
established schools in the interests of Chinese study, and last of all, like
Pi-gan (比干) of China, he died for his master, King Kong-yang. His
blood was sprinkled on the stone bridge outside the east gate of Song-do,
and the wondering pilgrims gaze still at the marks that five hundred years
have not sufficed to obliterate.
Of the one hundred and ten disciples twelve are men of the
present Cho-sŭn dynasty, all honoured for their faithfulness to the
teachings of Confucius.
Such being the nature of these centuries of Chinese influence
Korea has to-day no life, literature or thought that is not of Chinese origin.
She has not even had a permanent Manchu occupation to break the
hypnotic spell of Confucianism. Even her language, while possessing a
basis of form entirely different from that of China, has had the latter
language so grafted into it, and the thought of the same so fully made a
part of its very essence, that we need the Chinese character to convey it.
This will account for the native contempt of the native script. En-mun
(諺文) has become the slave of Han-mun (漢文), and does all the coolie
work of the sentence, namely, the ending, connecting and inflecting parts,
while the Han-mun, in its lordly way, provides the nouns and verbs.
Out of a list of 32,789 words, there proved to be 21,417 Chinese
31
and 11,372 Korean, that is twice as many Chinese as native words. At the
present time, too, the language is being flooded by many new terms to
represent incoming Western thought, and these are all Chinese.
In the Han-mun dictionary, or Ok-p’yŭn (玉篇), there are 10,850
characters, In reading these, the native endeavours as far as possible to
mark each character by some native word, which will approximately give
the meaning, so he says Soi-keum or ‘metal’-keum. In this search for
native words that will approximately designate the character he finds
himself lacking in the case of more than 3,000 characters. For 7,700 of
them native words are found, but for the remainder nothing even
approaching the meaning exists in the native speech.
To sit down and write a story in native language, or [page 15]
Anglo-Saxon, so to speak, is, we may say, impossible. Here is a sample of
a laboured paragraph in pure Korean:
Ol yŭ-ram-e yŭ-geui wa-sŭchi-nă-nit-ka a-mo-ri tŭ-un nali-ra-do
tŭ-un-jul-do mo-ro-get-ko do i keul chňkeul nňl-li pogo keu
ka-on-dădeus-sal p’u-rŭpo-ni ŭ-ri-sŭk-ko u-sŭ-un maldo man-ha na-ra il
kwa sa-ram-eui ma-am-eul tŭ-rŭal-get-to-tai-je o-nan sa-ram teung u-e do
yet sa-ram sseun mal-i it-nandākeu gŭt o-sŭo-myŭn do cha-ja po-ri-ra
keu-rŭ-han-dãi nomi wei a-ni o-nan-go?
“This summer, we have come here to pass the time, and
howsoever hot the day may be we do not notice it. We have been looking
extensively through this writing and that, and have unravelled the thought
therein and there are many stupid and ridiculous things, that let us know
somewhat of national affairs and of the minds of men. And now on the
back of the man that is coming are other writings written by the ancients.
If they come at once we shall resume our search. Why does not the rascal
come?”
A glance at a rendering of something the same in pure Chinese,
which at the same time is pure Korean colloquial will show how much
more full and rich the language is.
(Keum-nyŭn)-e-nan (chang-chang-ha-it)-eul
(Puk-hau-san-sŭng)-e-sŭ(sŭ-gyŭn)-ha-ni (chŭng-sin)-i
(soai-rak)-ha-yŭ(sin-t’ye)-ka (kang-gŭn)-ha-ta (pi-sŭ)-ha-gi-nan
(Puk-han)-i (tye-il)-i-ra (sŭ-ch’ãk)-eul (yŭr-ram)-ha-go
(i-wang-yŭk-tă-sa)-ral (sang-go)-ha-ni (ka-so)-rop-ko (u-mă)-han
(sa-juk)-i (pul-so)-ha-yŭ(kuk-sa)-wa (in-sim)-eul (ka-ji)-ro-ta (si-bang)
(ha-in) (pyŭn)-e (ko-in)-eui (keui-rok)-han (sŭ-chăk)-eul
(pu-song)-ha-yot-ket-nam-dã(ko-dă)-ha-gi-ga (sim)-hi (chi-ri) ha-to-ta.
32
“In the present year we passed the long summer days at the
mountain fortress of Puk-han, where our minds were freshened and our
bodies strengthened. The north fortress is first of all places at which to
escape the heat. We have searched widely through books and have
examined into the affairs of past generations and there are ridiculous and
stupid things not a few by which one can indeed know of the affairs of
nations and the minds of men. And now by courier they will have sent
other books written by the ancients. We wait with impatience, for their
coming seems long indeed.” [page 16]
Turning now to the popular literature of the day we find, with
scarcely an exception, that books written in the native script deal with
Chinese subjects and Chinese localities. Out of thirteen that I picked up of
the most common, sold every-where throughout the city, eleven were
Chinese stories and two Korean. Even the Sim Ch’ŭng Chŭn (심청전),
which is said to make the women of Korea weep, has had to bring its
subject down 1500 years from the Song dynasty and over a distance of
5000 li.
The popular songs also breathe of China. The first sound that
strikes the Korean baby’s ear, like “Ak-a ak-a u-ji-ma-ra,” goes on to
speak of the famous ones whom the mother hopes the child may resemble,
and they are the two emperors of antiquity, Yo and Sun, who lived 2300
B.C. The song that you hear so frequently when coolies beat the ground
for the foundation of a house has in it references to four persons, The first
is Kang T’ă-gong (姜太公), a Chinaman of the Chin dynasty, who died
1120 B.C.; the second is Mun-wang (文王), the emperor of that time; the
third is Yi T’ă-băk (李太白), the famous Chinese poet who lived A.D.
699-762; the last is Han-sin (韓信), a Chinese soldier, who lived 196 B.C.
All of these are Chinese heroes whom even the coolie has deified and
made gods of song.
In looking over the first two hundred odes of the Ch’ŭng Ku Ak
Chang, I find forty-eight names of persons mentioned―all Chinamen,
without a single exception. There are forty-four references to Chinese
places and literary works, and eight references to Korean localities like the
Diamond Mountains or Puk-han. However little the Chinese may seem to
have occupied Korean territory, of the language, literature and thought
they are in full possession.
Children who go to school learn first to read the Thousand
Character Classic, a book written by a Chinaman, Chu Heung-sa
(周興嗣), who lived about 500 A.D. The next book is the
33
Tong-mong-sŭn-seup, by a Korean author. It begins at once with the Five

Cardinal Relationships of Mencius. His is the first name mentioned
therein, while the whole book is an explanation of the principles
illustrated by the O-ryun-hăng-sil, to which is attached a short outline of
Chinese and Korean History. [page 17]
The history begins with a reference to T’ă-geuk (太極),
Eum-yang and O-ryun, and the names mentioned are those of the
Heavenly Emperor (天皇氏 Ch’ŭn-whang-ssi), Earthly Emperor (地皇氏
Chi-whang-ssi), the Human Emperor (人皇氏 In-whang-ssi), the
Bird’s-Nest Emperor (有巢氏 Yu-so-ssi), and the Fire Emperor (燧人氏
Su-in-ssi) of the fabulous ages of China, antedating Yo and Sun and
contemporary with pre-historic man. Tucked in at the end is a short
outline of Korean history with fulsome reference to the benefits and
blessings received from Great China.
Among works of universal note in Korea, none stand higher than
the So-hak (小學) and O-ryun-hăng-sil, that illustrate the five laws of
relationship. In the latter book the laws are emphasized by stories gathered
from various times and sources. There are one hundred and forty-four
stories in the five volumes. One hundred and twenty-six are taken from
China, the Song, Han, and Tang dynasties being most largely represented,
and eighteen from Korea.
There are in Korea what are called Sa-myung-il (四明日), Four
Great Holidays. The first is the Chinese New Year; the second is
Cold-Food Day (寒食 Han-sik) of the third moon, observed in
commemoration of a Chinaman, Kă-chi-ch’oi, who lived in the 7th
century B.C., and who perished in a burning forest rather than
compromise his political integrity―and so they are supposed to honour
him by lighting no fires on that day. The third day is Tan-o (端午) of the
5th moon, held sacred in honour of Kul-wŭn (屈原), also a Chinaman,
who committed suicide about 314 B.C. The fourth noted day is the 15th of
the 8th moon, the Chinese Harvest Home Festival.
Less important holidays are: first, the 15th of the 1st moon,
called the People’s Day (sa-ram-eui myŭng-il), when bridges are walked.
Concerning this day a Chinese poet of the 8th century of our era, who died
from overeating, wrote a celebrated verse. The second is Ch’ŭng-myŭng
(淸明), mentioned by poets of the Yang dynasty; the third is the third day
of the third moon, at which time the swallows return to Kang-nam (江南)
China. The fourth is Nap-il (臘日), the Day of Winter Sacrifice, which has
been handed down under [page 18] various names from the Han dynasty.
34
The fifth is the eighth day of the fourth moon, or the birthday of
Sŭ-ka-mo-ne (釋迦牟尼). Formerly this was held on the 15th day of the
1st moon, but being so prominent, it partook too much of the nature of a
national holiday, and so it was changed in the Ko-ryŭ dynasty by Ch’oi-si.
Thus the Buddha gave way to Confucius. The sixth is Yu-tu (流頭) of the
6th moon, also a day whose origin is in China. The seventh is the seventh
day of the seventh moon, the Crow and Magpie Day (牽牛 Kyŭn-u and
織女 chik-nyŭ), which of course is Chinese also. The eighth is the ninth
of the ninth moon, when the swallows leave Kang-nam. The ninth is the
winter solstice, calles Bean Porridge Day. Kong Kong-ssi (共工氏), a
Chinaman, who lived 2832 B.C., and in one of his playful moods broke
the pillars of heaven and destroyed the props of earth, had a son that died
and became a devil, a malignant and hurtful devil. It was discovered later
that there was only one thing that he did fear and that was red bean
porridge. For that reason the natives plaster it on the gate walls on this
particular day to keep him out―Bean Porridge Day.
In religion Koreans are ancestor worshippers, according to their
interpretation of Confucius. They worship also Kwan-u (關羽), the
Chinese God of War. Three large temples are erected to his honour, one
within and two without the walls of the capital.
In magic and divination they follow the teachings of Wun
Chung-kang (袁天綱), a Chinese sorcerer; and so implicitly do they trust
in the success of his divining, that his name has become an adverb of
certainty in the Korean language, just as we might say that such and such
is John-Smith sure to happen, where John Smith had proved himself as
infallible a prophet as Wun Chung-gang has proved to the people of the
Peninsula.
In domestic relationship, and in rank, office, and territorial
division, we can follow the Chinese guide book, and be perfectly at home
in Korea. The whole family system remains as handed down from the
Flowery Kingdom. The laws at the present day are called (Tă-myŭng-yul
大明律), the Code of the Mings. The Ceremonies are those of the Three
Kingdoms (三代禮 Sam-ta-rye). The six public offices are the same as
[page 19] those of China, the ranks, front and rear, with their nine degrees
being identical.
As for proper names, they are not native like many of those of
Japan. Original Korean names are lost in antiquity, and we have for
persons, and nearly always for places, Chinese names. The name Seoul,
which is native and not Chinese, might be considered an exception, but it
35
is not for it is really a common and not a proper noun, meaning simply
Capital.
To sum up the great influences under their most prominent heads,
they would probably be the T’ă-geuk (太極), the Absolute, which appears
on the national flag, as well as on official gates and on the Independence
Arch; the P’al-gwă (八卦), Eight Diagrams; the Eum-yang (陰陽),
Positive and Negative Principles in Nature; the Yuk-gap (六甲), Cycle
Symbols; the O-ryun (五倫) and O-hang (五行), the Five Relationships
and the Five Elements.
These have been drawn from the Chinese Classics, and they rule
to-day the thoughts and opinions of the most illiterate of Korea quite as
much as they do those of the educated.
To illustrate and to conclude I translate from the A-heui Wŭl-lam
(兒戱原覽). The preface reads, “Creation was not arranged in cosmic
order from the first and so, off hand, it is not possible to answer for it. If
those who night and day grind at study, fail to give a speedy answer to the
question when asked them, how can a child be expected to reply? People
like to hear but dislike to look and study. And now there come to me those
who despise things distant from them and who are diseased with show of
flower and lack of fruit.
“Let us then gather together the deeds and writings of the past
and present, and taking the different schools, teachings, inscriptions and
current rumours, trim them off, set them in order and make ten chapters
out of the different works with their countless heads.
“Amid great difficulty, you will know that it has been selected
most carefully. How well it has been boiled down I leave you to judge.”
Then the book begins:―
“In the Great Yŭk (太易 T’ă-yŭk), nothing was seen, In the
Great First (太初 T’ă-ch’o), life began. In the Great Beginning (太始
T’ă-si), forms appeared. In the Great Opening [page 20] Up (太素 T’ă-so),
matter took shape. Before this came to pass we call it chaos, but now that
it is finished we call it cosmos.
“The Symbols Kŭn (乾), and Kon (坤), denote the changes of the
Absolute (T’ă-geuk). Before those two primary forms were divided life
had no semblance, but on the division of the clear and the turbid, heaven
appeared in form like an egg. Heaven is the greater, Earth the lesser.
Without and within there is water filled up to the brim, and the whole
revolves like a wheel.
“Heaven is the atmosphere of land and water (Su-t’o), which,
36
being light and clear, flies upward and like a cover encircles the earth.
“Earth is the atmosphere of land and water, which, being turbid,
solidifies, rides upon the air, and, with its coolie load of water, floats
along.
“Man is the concentrated essence of heaven and earth, evolved
from the five elements, and spiritual beyond all other created things.
“The Sun is the essence of the male principle in nature
(T’ă-yang), is a king in his bearing, and on his breast are three crows’ feet.
“The Moon is the essence of the female principle in nature
(T’ă-eum), has a rabbit in her bosom, which has taken shape as her
particular spirit.
“The Stars are the glory of the Yang, they are composed of the
essence of mountains rivers and other created things.
“Clouds are the atmospheres of mountains and rivers or
collections of Eum and Yang.
“Rain is the concentrated Eum of heaven and earth. When it is
warm it rains, that is, it takes place when the Eum and Yang are in
harmony.
“Frost occurs when the atmosphere of the Eum predominates. It
is a change in the dew brought about by the cold.
“Snow is the concentrated Eum of heaven and earth, and is the
essence of the five grains.
“Wind is the servant of heaven and earth. When the universe is
angry we have wind, and wind is the atmosphere of matter blown forth.
[page 21]
“Thunder takes place when the Eum and Yang are at enmity.
They give expression to their feelings in thunder, which goes bung bung
like the beating of a drum, and passes in its course from left to right.
“Lightning occurs when the Eum and Yang bow down from
weight and the Yang of the springs and fountains flashes up to heaven.
When the Eum and Yang quarrel with each other we also have lightning.
“The Rainbow is seen when the Eum and Yang meet in harmony,
the bright variety being the male and the dim the female.
“Mist. There are waters of five colours in the mountains of
Kol-yun, and mist is the atmosphere of the red water that rises.
“Fog is the result of the hundred noxious vapours when the Eum
overcomes the Yang, and so it fills the space between heaven and earth.
“The Milky Way is the chief of all the star atmospheres. It is the
essence of water that rises and floats along.
37
“There are nine stories to heaven. The highest storey is where the
stars travel, the second is where the sun travels and the lowest is where the
moon makes its way. The disc of the sun is larger than that of the moon.
In the moon there are visible objects, which are shadows of mountains and
streams. In the remaining spaces we have the shadow of the sea, and they
say there are shadows also of a striped toad and a cinnamon tree.”
The Five Elements of which the Korean talks so much and on
which he builds so many theories are, metal, wood, water, fire, earth.
These take their origin as follows; “When the dark atmosphere solidifies
we have water; when the red atmosphere shines forth we have fire; when
the green atmosphere floats in mid-heaven we have wood; when the white
atmosphere glances off into space we have metal; when the yellow
atmosphere bounds the sky we have earth.”
We have also an explanation of the objects and articles used in
every day life, and, faithful to his spiritual and intellectual fathers, the
Korean traces them all back to China, and in most cases to China of the
fabulous ages.
“Cooked food. In olden times men ate fruits and the blood [page
22] of animals. The Emperor Su-in-ssi made a hole in a tree and by passing
a string through caused fire, ―from which date men cooked their food.
“Clothes were first invented by Ho-jo [a Minister of the Yellow
Emperor].
“Houses. In olden times men lived in holes or slept out on the
ground, but the Bird’s-Nest Emperor (Yu-so-ssi), taught house framing,
and the ancient Emperor Ko-whang-ssi first built houses. The latter had
four eyes and could write characters as soon as he was born.
“Ploughs were first made and used by the Spirit-Farmer Emperor,
Sil-long-ssi, who had a man’s body and an ox’s head.
“Marriage was first instituted by the Sky-Emperor (Pok-heui-soi),
who had a snake’s body and a man’s head. [He was the great inventor of
the Eight Diagrams].
“Writing was invented by the three brothers of the Ancient
Emperor (Ko-whang-ssi). One invented the characters, of India, one the
characters of heaven, and one the characters of China.
“Books, Before the time of the Chin Kingdom (255 B.C.) there
were no books; writings were preserved on slips of bamboo. In the Han
dynasty, (206 B.C. to 23 A.D.) they were kept on silk [and so to-day
Koreans say, “Il-hom-eul Chuk-păk-e ol-li-ta,” “He will have his name
inscribed on bamboo and silk”―meaning recorded in history].
38
“The Calendar was constructed by Yung-sung, who lived 2780

B.C.”
The Cycle Symbols, which have had so much to do with Korean
thought, were invented by a Chinaman, Tă-yo, under direction of the
Yellow Emperor. The basis of their thought was taken from the
constellation Great Bear. The monthly cyclical characters were arranged
by a combination of the Ten Celestial Stems and the Twelve Earthly
Branches, making in all sixty years of the cycle.
Thus the whole list of Korea’s customs, usages, and terms, are
traced back to China, to the times of the Yellow Emperor and others who
lived before the days of Yo and Sun. The list includes besides these, rank,
sacrifice, ancestor worship, schools, sacrificial ceremonies, tablet,
medicine, fortunetelling, fishing nets, city walls, parks, porcelain, wells,
water [page 23] pestles, sieves, brooms, mill-stones, kettles, boilers, food,
sacrificial dishes, wine glasses, grain measures, saws, chisels, axes, bows,
arrows, shields, spears, armour, boats, carts, chariots, coffins, head-stones,
crowns, robes, head-bands, socks, clothes, shoes, combs, mirrors,
spectacles, finger-rings, fans, paper, pens, ink, ink-stones, distilled and
fermented liquors, songs, dancing, harps, guitars, violins, pipes, draughts,
chess, dice, cards, dominoes, dancing girls, swinging, kite-flying, etc., etc.
Medicine we are told was first discovered by the fabulous
emperor called the Spirit-Farmer; his Korean name being Sil-long-ssi.
To-day, natives, educated and uneducated alike, speak of medicine as
Sil-long-yu-ŭb (the calling handed down by the Spirit-Farmer Emperor).
Nets we are informed were first made by the Sky-Emperor, and
were used to catch birds and fish with. So the Korean boys to-day sing―
“Chi-bi-ral hu-rŭ-rünā-gan-ta
Che-bi-ral hu-rŭ-rŭnā-gan-ta
Pok-hehi-ssi-eui mā-jan keu-meul-eul kŭ-
tu-ch’ŭtul-lŭme-go.”
Off we go to catch the swallow,
Off we go to catch the swallow,
Wrapped and rolled and ready is the net of
the Sky-Emperor.
Harps of five strings were first made by the Spirit-Farmer. Mun
and Mu of the Chu dynasty, who were men of war, each added a string,
making seven in all; and to-day Koreans say “Mun hyŭn Mu hyŭn-eun
sal-pŭl-chi-sŭng-i-ra,”“The Mun and Mu strings have the sound of death
and destruction.”
39
A paragraph follows these lists which shows how precious in the

eyes of Korea is every character in the classics. It reminds one of the Jew.
“Thy saints take pleasure in her stones, her very dust to them is dear.”
The Book of Poetry (Si-chön) has 39,124 characters.
The Book of History (Sö-chön 〃 25,700 〃
The Book of Changes (Chu-yök) 〃 24,027 〃
The Ceremony of Chukeng (Chu-ryè) 〃 45,860 〃
The Canon of Rites (Yi-keui) 〃 99,027 〃
The Annals of Confucius (Ch’un-ch’u) 〃 196,845 〃
[page 24]
The Analects (Non-ö) 〃 12,700 〃
Mencius (Măng-ja) 〃 34,685 〃
The Great Learning (Tă-hak) 〃 1,733 〃
The Doctrine of the Mean(Chung-yong) 〃 3,505 〃
The Book of Filial Piety (Hyo-gyöng) 〃 1,903 〃
The numerical catagories also lead you at once away from Korea
and up and down through China, noting the most unexpected things. Let
me take one as a sample. It is the figure eight that we are at, “The Eight
Fast Horses of Mok-wang” who lived 1000 B.C. These horses went at the
rate of 330 miles a day, or as fast as an ordinary steamer. Their names
translated freely read, Earth Breaker, Feather Flapper, Heaven Flyer,
Landscape Jumper, Light Clearer, Sunbeam Heaper, Fog Conqueror,
Wing Hanger. And so on and so on. The noted mountains, the
distinguished men―all Chinese, not a Korean name in the whole long
weary list of them.
As for general deportment too the Korean keeps in his mind’s
eye the nine forms advocated by Confucius which also appear in the
numerical category under the figure nine.
1st Stately walk: 2nd Humble hand, 3rd Straight eye, 4th
Circumspect mouth, 5th Low voice, 6th Erect head, 7th Dignified manner,
8th Respectful poise, 9th Severe countenance.
I Conclude the paper by a quotation from the close of the
Tong-mong Sön-seup “Our ceremonies, our enjoyments, our laws, our
usages, our dress, our literature, our goods have all followed after the
models of China. The great relationships shine forth from those above and
the teachings pass down to those below, making the grace of our customs
like to that of the Flowery Land; so that Chinese themselves praise us
saying “Korea is little China.”
40
Volume I. 1900
[page 25]
Korean Survivals.
By H. B. Hulbert, Esq., F.R.G.S. [Homer Bezaleel Hulbert]
We had the pleasure a short time since of listening to an able presentation

of the subject of “China’s Influence upon Korea” by the Rev. Jas. S. Gale.
It would be difficult if not impossible to bring together a more complete
array of the facts which argue the existence of such influence. But the
impression left by the paper was that there is nothing in Korean society
that is not dominated by Chinese ideas. If this is true, we have in Korea a
condition of affairs that must be acknowledged to be unique; for Korea is
a nation of over twelve million people who have preserved a distinct
national life for more than two thousand years, and it would be strange
indeed if there remained in the Peninsula nothing that is peculiarly and
distinctively Korean. If Korea’s subjection to Chinese ideals was complete
in the days of the Tang dynasty and has continued ever since, there would
be no one so hardy as to point to anything in the country and claim for it a
native origin and survival after a lapse of fifteen hundred years. And yet,
at the suggestion of our President, I have undertaken to present the other
side of the picture and to point out what remains that is distinctive of
Korea and differentiates her from China. In this sense it is merely
supplementary to what we have already heard on the subject.
The observations that I have to make divide themselves into two
portions: first a short historical resumé, and second some natural
deductions.
Korean tradition tells us that the first civilizer of Korea was the
Tan-gun (檀君), a purely native character, born on the slopes of Tă-băk
Mountain (太白山). The wild tribes [page 26] made him their king. He
taught them the relations of king and subject; he instituted the rite of
marriage; he instructed them in the art of cooking and the science of
house-building; he taught them to bind up the hair by tying a cloth about
the head. This tradition is universally accepted among Koreans as true.
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Korean Survivals
They believe his reign to have begun a thousand years before the coming
of Keui-ja. We place no confidence in the historical value of the legend,
but the Koreans do; and it is significant that according to the general
belief in Korea the Tan-gun taught two, at least, of the most important of
the Confucian doctrines, namely those concerning the government and the
home. And from these two all the others may be readily deduced. The
legend also intimates that the much respected top-knot, at least in all its
essential features, antedated the coming of Keui-ja.
If the legendary character of this evidence is adduced against it,
the very same can be adduced against the story of Keui-ja, at least as
regards his coming to Korea. The Chinese histories of the Tang dynasty
affirm that Keui-ja’s kingdom was in Liao-tung (遼東). The histories of
the Kin and Yuan dynasties say that Keui-ja’s capital was at
Kwang-nyŭng (廣寧) in Liao-tung. A Keui ja well is shown there to this
day and a shrine to him. A picture of this great sage hung there for many
years, but it was burned in the days of Emperor Sé-jong of the Ming
dynasty. Even a Korean work entitled Sok-mun Heun-tong-no
(續文獻通考), states that Keui-ja’s capital was at Ham-p’yŭng-no
(咸平路) in Liao-tung. The Chinese work Il-tong-ji (一統志), of the Ming
dynasty, states that the scholars of Liao-tung compiled a book on this
subject entitled Sŭng-gyüng-ji (盛京志), in which they said that Cho-sŭn
included Sim-yang (瀋陽, i.e. Mukden), Pong-ch’ŭn-bu (奉天府),
Kwang-nyŭng and Eui-ju (義州), which would throw by far the larger
portion of Cho-sŭn beyond the Yalu River and preclude the possibility of
Keui-ja’s capital being at P’yŭng-yang. I believe that P’yŭng-yang was his
capital, but the evidence cited shows that it is still an open question and if
the Tan-gun story is excluded because of its legendary character the
Keui-ja story must be treated likewise. We have as many remains of the
Tan-gun dynasty as of the Keui-ja. The Tan-gun altar on Kang-wha, the
fortress of [page 27] Sam-nāng (三郞) on Chŭn-dung Mountain, the
Tan-gun shrine at Mun-wha and the grave of the Tan-gun at Kang-dong
attest at least the Korean belief in their great progenitor.
When Keui-ja came in 1122 B.C. he brought with him a mass of
Chinese material, but we must note the way in which it was introduced.
From the first he recognised the necessity of adapting himself and his
followers to the language of the people among whom they had come. The
Chinese language was not imposed upon the people. He determined to
govern through magistrates chosen from the native population; and for
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Korean Survivals
this purpose he selected men from the various districts and taught them
the science of government.
The Chinese character was not introduced into Korea at this time
as a permanency. The square character had not as yet been invented and
the ancient seal character was as little known even among the upper
classes as the art of writing among the same classes in Europe in the
Middle Ages. The total absence of literary remains, even of inscriptions,
bears evidence to the fact that the Chinese character played no part in the
ancient kingdom of Cho-sŭn.
The Keui-ja dynasty was overthrown by Wi-man in 193 B.C., but
neither Wi-man nor his followers were Chinese. We are distinctly told that
he was a native of Yŭn (燕), a semibarbarous tribe in Manchuria. His
coming, therefore, could have added nothing to the influence of China
upon Korea, Only eighty-six years passed before Wi-man’s kingdom fell
before the Emperor Mu (武帝), of the powerful Han dynasty, and was
divided into four provinces. But we must ask what had become of the
Keui-ja civilization. The conquering emperor called the Koreans “savages.”
Mencius himself speaks of a greater and a lesser Māk (貊), meaning by
greater Măk the kingdom of Cho-sŭn. This is considered an insult to the
Keui-ja kingdom, for Măk was the name of a wholly barbarous tribe on
the eastern side of the Peninsula and the reference implies that Cho-sŭn
was also savage. The celebrated Chinese work, the Mun-hon Tong-go
(文獻通考), almost our only authority on the wild tribes of Korea at the
time of which we are speaking, shows that almost the whole of northern
Korea was occupied by the tribes of Ye (穢), of Măk (貊), of Nang-nang
(樂浪) and Ok-jŭ (沃沮). The kingdom of Wi-man [page 28] comprised
only a portion of the province of P’yŭng-an. The evidence is made still
stronger by the fact that the Emperor Mu gave the name of Nang-nang
(樂浪), to the whole of north-western Korea, clean to the Yalu River. It
seems plain that he considered the trans-Yalu portion of Wi-man’s
kingdom its most important part.
It was not to be expected that Chinese could long continue to
hold any portion of Korea. It was too far from the Chinese base and the
intractability of the semi-barbarous tribes made the task doubly difficult.
So we are not surprised to find that within a century the whole of northern
Korea fell into the hands of Chu-mong (朱蒙), a refugee from the far
northern kingdom of Pu-yu (夫餘). Tradition gives him a supernatural
origin, but his putative father was a descendant of the oldest son of the
Tan-gun. So here again we find no indication of Chinese influence. From
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Korean Survivals
almost the very first this new kingdom of Ko-gu-ryū was China’s natural
enemy, and while there were intervals of peace, for the most part a state of
war existed between Ko-gu-ryŭ and the various Chinese dynasties which
arose and fell between 37 B.C. and 668 A.D. The Mun-hon T’ong-go
describes the manners and customs of Ko-gu-ryŭ in detail. It says nothing
about Confucianism, but describes the native fetichism and shamanism in
terms which make it plain that northern Korea had very largely reverted to
its semi-barbarism―if indeed it had ever been civilized. Her long wars
with China at last came to an end when the latter, with the aid of Sil-la,
brought her to bay in 668 A.D.
We must now turn to the south where interesting events were
transpiring. In 193 B.C. Wi-man drove Keui-jun out of P’yŭng-yang. He
fled by boat with a handful of followers, landing finally at the site of the
present town of Ik-san. At that time the southern part of Korea was
occupied by three congeries of little states. The western and most
powerful of these groups was called Ma-han (馬韓), the southern group
was Pyön-han (卞韓) and the eastern group Chin-han (辰韓). These
names were already in use in southern Korea long before the coming
either of Keui-jun or the Chinese refugees from the Chin empire across
the Yellow Sea. Keui-jun undoubtedly brought with him a civilization
superior to that of the southern Koreans and so he found little difficulty in
setting [page 29] up a kingdom. This kingdom did not, however, include the
whole of Ma-han. At first it probably included only a few of the fifty-four
independent communities which composed the Ma-han group. He had
with him only a few score of followers and he found in Ma-han a people
differing from his own in language, customs, laws and religion. It is
inconceivable that during the short period that this kingdom survived it
could have exerted any powerful influence upon the general population of
the Ma-han group. It was only a few years after Chu-mong founded
Ko-gu-ryŭ that his two sons moved southward and settled well within the
borders of Keui-jun’s little kingdom and within two decades, by a single
short campaign, they overthrew Ma-han and set up the kingdom of Păk-je
(百濟). Thus we see that Păk-je was founded by people that were in no
wise connected with the Chinese traditions.
But some time before this the kingdom of Sil-la had been
founded in the south-eastern portion of the Peninsula. We are credibly
informed that at the time of the building of the great wall of China large
numbers of Chinese fled from China and found asylum in southern Korea.
Landing on the coast of Ma-han they were apparently considered
44
Korean Survivals
unwelcome visitors, for they were immediately deported to the eastern

side of the Peninsula and given a place to live among the people of
Chin-han. They did not found Chin-han. The names of all the independent
settlements of that group are preserved to us and none of them has a
Chinese name. Chin-han had existed long before the coming of these
Chinese. There is nothing in the records on which to base the belief that
these Chinese immigrants had anything to do with the founding of the
kingdom of Sil-la. The chiefs of five of the native communities agreed to
unite their people under a single government, but the name they gave the
kingdom was not Sil-la but Sŭ-ya-bŭl (徐耶伐), a purely native word. The
name Sil-la was not applied to the kingdom until some centuries later, that
is in 504 A.D., during the reign of King Chi-deung. It was in the same
year that the horrible custom was discontinued of burying five boys and
five girls alive when the body of a king was interred. The title of the king
was Kŭ-sŭ-gan (居西干), a purely native word. The word “wang” was not
introduced [page 30] till the name Sil-la was. The names of all the
government offices and all official titles were pure native words. These
are also preserved to us in the Mun-hon Tong-go which I have already
mentioned. We have now noticed the origin of the three states which
divided the Peninsula between them at about the beginning of our era and
we find that in none of them was there any considerable Chinese influence
manifest. Indeed it was not until five hundred years later that even the
barbarous and revolting custom of burying people alive was discontinued,
and even then it was discontinued only because a king on his death-bed
gave most stringent orders that no children were to be buried alive with
him.
There was at the same time a certain admixture of Chinese blood
in Korea. In human society as in the vegetable kingdom we find that a
wise admixture of the different species of a family produces the very best
of results. The admixture of Celtic, Teutonic, Scandinavian and Norman
blood produced the powerful combination which we call English. So the
slight infusion of Chinese blood in Sil-la helped to produce a civilization
that was confessedly far in advance of either Păk-je or Ko-gu-ryŭ.
But the kingdom of Sil-la was without a system of writing, and
consequently adopted the system that the Chinese had brought with them.
There can be no doubt that these Chinese brought many new ideas, which,
being entirely foreign to the Koreans, had no corresponding words in their
vocabulary. The Koreans therefore adopted the names along with the
ideas. But in borrowing from the Chinese vocabulary the Koreans did it in
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Korean Survivals
no slaving way. They attached Korean endings to the Chinese words,

compounded them with Korean words and in truth assimilated them to the
genius of Korean speech as thoroughly as the Old English did the
Romance dialects brought over by the Norman conquerors. Korean
etymology and syntax differed so widely from the Chinese that Korean
scholars despaired of blending the two, and in order to render a Chinese
text intelligible they found it necessary to introduce the Korean endings.
This was done by means of a system called the Ni-t’u, which was
described some years ago in the Korean Repository.
As a medium of writing the Koreans adopted the Chinese [page 31]
character and they still continue to use it. There has never risen a man in
Korea to do for his country what Chaucer, Dante and Cervantes did for
theirs, namely, write a classic in the native tongue and begin the good
work of weaning the people away from a foreign system which restricts
the benefits of erudition to the meagrest minority of the people. And yet
Korea has not been wanting in men who recognised the need of a change.
The first of these was Sŭl-ch’ong (薛聽), to whom reference was made in
the paper read last month as being one of Korea’s great men. It is true; but
the foundation of his greatness lies, it seems to me, in his attempt to make
popular education possible in his native land. He it was who invented the
Ni-t’u (吏套), which was a half-measure and therefore doomed to failure.
But such as it was it was entirely anti-Chinese, at least in this respect that,
by weaning the Koreans away from the Chinese grammatical system, the
first step would be taken towards weaning them away from the whole
system. He labored under far greater difficulties in this matter than did
those who took the first steps toward freeing the English people from their
bondage to the Latin. This difficulty was the entire lack of any phonetic
system of writing in Korea. The highly inflected language of Korea is
wholly unfit to be expressed in terms of the rigid, unyielding characters of
China. The English on the other hand not only had a phonetic system
similar to that of the Continent but they had almost identically the same
alphabet. Such being the case it is small wonder that Sŭl-ch’ong failed.
Another great scholar of Sil-la was Ch’oé Ch’i-wun (崔致遠). At
an early age he went to China, where he took high honours in the national
examinations. He travelled widely — as far as Persia, it is said — and
then came back to Korea to give his countrymen the benefit of his
experience. But it soon became evident that the jealousy of his
fellow-courtiers would let him do nothing. He was forced to flee from the
court and find refuge among the mountains, where he wrote an interesting
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Korean Survivals
biographical work. It is natural enough that the Chinese mention him with
enthusiasm because of his achievements in China. The Koreans owe him
little except the lesson which he taught, that a Korean who denationalizes
himself can hope to have little influence upon his fellow-countrymen.
[page 32]
Down through the history of Sil-la we find a constantly
broadening civilization and a constant borrowing of Chinese ideas of dress,
laws, religious and social observances. This is freely granted, but what we
do not grant is that this borrowing made the Korean any less a Korean or
moulded his disposition into any greater likeness to the Chinese than a
tiger’s fondness for deer moulds him into any likeness to that animal.
It was during the early days of Sil-la that Confucianism and
Buddhism were introduced into Korea. Before the beginning of our era
Chinese influence had been stamped out of the whole north and west of
Korea and it was only with the impetus that Sil-la gave to the study of
Chinese that this religion took firm root in Korean soil. I shall take up the
matter of Confucianism and Buddhism later, and only mention them here
to emphasize the date of their introduction.
Sil-la finally, with the help of the Chinese, gained control of
nearly the whole of the Peninsula, but for many years there was a sharp
dispute between her and China as to the administration of the northern
provinces. It was only when Sil-la assumed control of the whole Peninsula
that the people began to be moulded into a homogeneous mass.
In the tenth century Sil-la fell before the Ko-ryŭ (高麗) dynasty
and the palmy days of Buddhism were in sight. During the next five
hundred years Chinese influence in Korea was almost exclusively along
Buddhistic lines. It was during this period that the law was promulgated
requiring every third son to become a monk, and that the pagoda was
erected in this city. But, as I shall attempt to show later, Buddhism cannot
be cited as Chinese influence in any proper sense.
With the beginning of this dynasty in 1392 happier days were in
store for Korea. Sweeping reforms were instituted. King Se-jo (世祖)
ordered the casting of metal types in 1406, thus anticipating the
achievement of Gutenberg by nearly half a century. These were Chinese
characters, but the same king ordered the construction of a phonetic
alphabet that would make possible the education of the masses. This
command resulted in the composition of an alphabet which for simplicity
and phonetic power has not a superior in the [page 33] world. It was a
system capable of conveying every idea that the Korean brain could
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evolve or that China had to lend. It would be as absurd to say that the
Korean requires the Chinese written language with its widely divergent
grammar as to say that the Englishman needs the Latin written language
with all its grammatical system. But the alphabet never became popular
among the upper or educated class. The reason is two-fold. In the first
place, this upper class had been so long accustomed to a system that
appealed to the eye rather than to the ear that the change was too radical.
It would be like asking a painter to stop expressing his ideas on canvas
and do it on the piano instead. The whole technique of the art must be
relearned. The artistic spirit might enable him to do it, but the effort would
be too great a strain on the patience to render his acquiescence probable.
In the second place, the use of the Chinese character was an effectual
barrier between the upper and the lower classes. The caste spirit, which
has always been pronounced in Korea was fed and strengthened by the use
of Chinese; for only a leisure class could hope to learn the “Open Sesame”
to learning. The retention of the Chinese character grew out of no love for
Chinese ideas, but from intellectual inertia on the one hand and caste
prejudice on the other.
Since the beginning of this dynasty there have been no
considerable borrowings from China.
This closes the historical part of our theme, and now, in
commenting upon it, I shall make use of a comparison which, though not
exact in all particulars, is sufficiently so for our purposes. I shall attempt
to show that the influence of China upon Korea has been almost identical
with that of Continental Europe upon the inhabitants of the British Isles.
Not that there is any similarity between Korea and England, any more
than there is between China and Continental Europe, but that the law of
cause and effect has worked in identically the same way in each case.
I. I have granted that there has been admixture of Chinese blood
in Korea. This admixture terminated over a thousand years ago, for the
Manchu and Mongol invasions left no traces in the Korean stock. But we
find precisely the same process occurring in England at approximately the
same [page 34] time. The admixture of Norman blood in England was
indeed far greater than the Chinese admixture in Korea.
II. I have granted that the language of Korea has been modified
by Chinese admixture, but the modification has been identical both in kind
and in degree with that which the Romance languages exerted upon
English. The changes which occurred among the Korean tribes between
the years 200 B.C. and 100 A.D. may fitly be compared with the changes
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which took place in England at the same or a little later period, namely
from the beginning of the Roman conquest. The influence of
Norman-French upon English did not begin till somewhat later than the
influence of Chinese upon Korean, but it was of the same nature. It is
necessary then to inquire what was the kind of influence which the
Chinese exerted over the Korean.
(a) At the time when this influence commenced Korea already
possessed a highly inflected language, which differed radically from the
Chinese in its phonetics, etymology and syntax, and this difference is as
great to-day as ever. If we turn to the British Isles we find that at the time
of the Norman conquest there existed in England a highly inflected
language which differed widely from that of the conquerors and that the
distinction has been maintained in spite of all glossarial innovations.
(b) The influence of the Chinese upon the Korean, as of the
Norman upon the English, consisted almost solely in the borrowing of
new terms to express new ideas and of synonyms to add elegance and
elasticity to the diction. In both cases the legal, ecclesiastical, scientific
and literary terms were borrowed, while the common language of ordinary
life remained comparatively free from change. The difficulty of writing in
pure Korean without the use of Chinese derivatives is precisely the same
as that of writing in pure English without the use of Latin derivatives. Of
course there are many Chinese terms that have no Korean equivalent, just
as there are many Latin derivatives that have no Anglo-Saxon equivalent.
But we must remember that there are thousands of common Korean words
that have no Chinese equivalent. The whole range of onomatopoetic or
mimetic words, in which Korea is particularly rich, has never been
reduced to [page 35] Chinese nor sought a Chinese synonym. In our English
vocabulary there are only 28,000 Anglo-saxon roots. I feel sure that an
exhaustive list of Korean words would show a larger proportion of native
roots than this.
(c) Ideas come first, words afterwards, and the Korean who has
grasped the idea needs only to borrow the phonetic symbol of the idea. No
written character is necessary. The fact that the whole New Testament has
been intelligibly rendered into Korean and written in the native alphabet is
sufficient answer to all who say that the Korean requires the Chinese
character to enable him to express even the most recondite ideas.
III. I have granted that Korea has borrowed largely from the
religious systems of China. I have shown that the Confucian cult was
introduced into Korea a little after the beginning of our era. It was at this
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same time that Christianity was first introduced into England. But
Christianity effected a far more radical change in England than
Confucianism did in Korea. The ancient Druidical rites of prehistoric
England correspond very well with the fetichism of the wild tribes of
Korea, but though Christianity put an end to the whole Druidical system
Confucianism never was able to displace the fetichism of Korea. It exists
here to-day and forms the basis of Korean religious belief. It exercises an
influence upon the Korean masses incalculably greater than Confucianism.
The fetichism of Korea is not a Chinese product. It is described by the
writers who tell of the ancient tribes of Korea, and what they say
corresponds closely with what we know of Korean superstitions to-day.
There were the full moon and the new moon feast. There was the worship
of animals and of spirits of numberless kinds. The omens which the
Koreans dreaded long before the coming of the Chinese were the same as
those which frightened the ancient Chaldeans, Persians, Romans, namely,
eclipses, meteors, wailings, wild animals in the streets, showers of various
articles of a most unexpected nature.
Much stress is naturally laid upon Confucianism, but what is
Confucianism? A formulation of those simple laws of conduct which are
common to the entire human family. The love of parents in instinctive to
the race. It is common [page 36] even among animals. Conjugal faithfulness,
loyalty to rulers, the sacredness of friendship―these are things that all
men possess without the suggestion of Confucianism and they existed
here before Confucianism was heard of. The Koreans accepted the written
Confucian code as naturally as the fledgeling takes to its wings. They had
never formulated it before and so they naturally accepted the Chinese
code.
But I would ask what influence Confucianism has actually
exerted upon Korea. It has dictated the form of ceremonial observances
and has overspread the surface of Korean social life with a veneer that
appeals wholly to the eye, but which finds little sanction in the judgement.
Which one of the Confucian precepts have the Koreans observed with
even a reasonable degree of faithfulness? Not one. Their Confucianism is
a literary shibboleth―a system of casuistry which is as remote from the
field of practical ethics as the system of Machiavelli was remote from the
field of genuine diplomacy. In Korea Confucianism has moulded merely
the form of things and has left the substance untouched. To prove this I
would ask to whom or what does the Korean have recourse when in
trouble of any kind? Every one conversant with Korean customs will
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answer that it is to his primitive and inborn fetichism or to that form of

shamanism to which Korean Buddhism has degenerated. And this brings
us to the subject of Buddhism.
Korea received Buddhism not from China but merely by way of
China. In origin and philosophy Buddhism is an Indian product and can
no more be cited as Chinese influence than Japanese Buddhism can be
cited as Korean influence. We must look farther back to trace the genesis
of that influence. China was merely the physical medium through which
Indian ideas were transmitted to Korea and thence to Japan.
Buddhism flourished in Korea from about 400 A.D. to 1392 A.D.
At that time an opposing current set in which pushed it into the
background, but it would be a great mistake to think that the principles
and philosophy of Buddhism are extinct. They have been pushed to the
background, but they still remain in their modified form the background
of the Korean temperament, as I shall show later.
IV. I shall grant that Korea has received her scientific [page 37]
ideas from China, but in the same way that the English received their
fundamental scientific notions from the Continent. The astronomical
system of Copernicus, the medical systems of Galen and Hippocrates, the
mathematical systems of Euclid and Archimedes and the philosophical
systems of Plato, Spinoza, Descartes and Kant―these form the
background of English science. In the same way Korea received her
astronomy, astrology, geomancy and necromancy from China.
V. I shall grant that Korea received her artistic ideals from China,
but in the same sense that the English have always looked upon Phidias
and Praxiteles, Correggio and Raphael, Mendelssohn and Bach as
unapproachable in their own spheres.
VI. I shall grant that Korea has borrowed her literary ideals from
China. But among all the forms of poetry, whether epic, didactic or lyric,
whether ode, sonnet, elegy or ballad, which one of them has originated in
the British Isles? It is all merely a matter of form, not of substance.
VII. I shall grant that the Koreans have copied the Chinese in the
matter of dress. But is it not a notorious fact that the whole of
Christendom has been dictated to in this matter for centuries by a coterie
of tailors and modistes in Paris? To-day Korea is more independent of
China in the matter of dress than is England of the Continent.
VIII. I shall grant that Korea has acknowledged the suzerainty of
China for two thousand years or more. In like manner the English people
continued for centuries to pay Peter’s pence, but the submission was only
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a superficial one. Korea had been overawed by the prestige of Chinese

literature just as England had been overawed by the papacy, but even as
the English people were moved to this more by reverence for authority in
the abstract than by the personality of the Roman pontiff so the Koreans
were kept bound to China more as a grateful source of intellectual
enlightenment than as a political dictator. The Roman pontiff never
pressed his temporal claims into the domain of English politics without
the people of England becoming restive, and even so the Chinese never
pressed their claim to suzerainty over Korea to its logical limits without
the people of Korea becoming restive. [page 38]
These are some of the points of similarity between China’s
influence upon Korea and the influence of Continental Europe upon
England, and I beg to submit the proposition that if the mere borrowing of
foreign ideas brings the borrower into complete conformity to the lender
we have a right to say that England is as subservient to Continental ideas
as Korea is to Chinese. But no one would dream of saying that England
has shown any such subserviency. With all her adaptation of foreign ideas
England is a distinct and separate national unit. The same is true of Korea.
Her borrowings have not merged her personality nor the characteristics of
her people into any likeness to the Chinese.
The Chinese are utilitarian, phlegmatic, calculating, thrifty,
honest through policy, preferring a steady moderate profit to a large but
precarious one. The Korean on the other hand, is a man of sanguine
temperament, happy-go-lucky, hand-to-mouth, generous when he has the
means, unthrifty, honest (when he is honest) not so much from policy as
from contempt of dishonesty. This open-handedness of the Korean
explains in part the very small amount of mendicancy here as compared
with China.
Again, the Korean is passionately fond of nature, and is never so
happy as when climbing his native hills or walking beside his streams.
There is in him a real poetic vein which I fail to find in the Chinese either
through my very slight personal acquaintance with them or through what I
read of them in books.
The barrenness of Chinese literature has not got into the bones of
the Koreans. Their temperament is such as to throw if off as a healthy
mind throws off an attack of melancholy. This is possible because the
Korean study of the classics is a matter of custom or habit and not a
matter of enthusiasm or love. He studies them because he is ashamed not
to know them. Testimony may differ as to the status of Korean
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scholarship, but it is the belief of some among us that the average grade of
that scholarship is exceedingly low. Among the so-called educated class
in Korea the vast majority know just enough Chinese to read their notes to
each other and to spell out the easy Chinese that the daily paper affords,
but I am not prepared to admit that more than the meagrest [page 39]
fraction even of the upper class could take up any ordinary Chinese book
and read it with passable fluency at sight.
The Korean temperament is a mean between that of the Chinese
and that of the Japanese. He is more a child of impulse that the Chinese
but less than the Japanese. He combines the rationalism of the Chinese
with the idealism of the Japanese. It is the idealism in the Japanese nature
that makes the mysticism of the Buddhistic cult such a tremendous power.
The Korean is a less enthusiastic Buddhist, but he has in him enough
idealism to make it sure that the philosophy of Buddhism will never lose
its hold upon him until he comes in contact with the still deeper mysticism
of Christianity. In all this he is at the widest remove from the Chinese. I
have been informed by one of the most finished students of Chinese, a
European who for twenty-seven years held an important position in
Peking, that there was not a single monastery within easy distance from
that city where there lived a monk who understood even the rudiments of
Buddhism. This is quite what we might have expected, and to a certain
extent it is true of Korea. The native demonology of Korea has united with
Buddhism and formed a composite religion that can hardly be called
either the one or the other, but running through it all we can see the
underlying Buddhistic fabric, with its four fundamentals―mysticism,
fatalism, pessimism and quietism. That these are inherent in the Korean
temperament I will show by quoting four of their commonest expressions.
“Moragěsso” ―I don’t know―is their mysticism. “Halsu öpso” ― It
can’t be helped―is their fatalism. “Mang hagesso”―going to the
dogs―is their pessimism, and “Nopsita”―Let’s knock off work―is their
quietism.
If we enter the fruitful field of Korean folk-lore we shall find a
mixture of Confucian, Buddhistic and purely native material. We should
note that the stories of the origin of Korea’s heroes are strikingly
non-Chinese. Hyŭk-kŭ-sé, the first king of Sil-la, is said to have originated
from a luminous egg that was found in the forest on a mountain side. For
this reason the kingdom was for many years called Kyé-rim or “Hen
Forest” The second king of Sil-la was Sŭk-tŭl-hă, who is said to have
originated from an egg among the people [page 40] of Ta-p’a-ra in northern
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Japan. The neighbours determined to destroy the egg, but the mother
wrapped it in cotton and, placing it in a strong chest, committed it to the
waters of the sea. Some months later a fisherman at A-jin harbor in Sil-la
saw the chest floating off the shore. He secured it and upon lifting the
cover found a handsome boy within. He became the second king of Sil-la
and in reality the founder of the line of Sil-la kings. Chu-mong, the
founder of Ko-gu-ryŭ, was also born from an egg in far-off North Pu-yŭ.
His foster father wished to destroy the egg, but found it impossible to do
so even with a sledge-hammer. The mother wrapped it in silks and in time
it burst and disclosed the future hero. Origin from an egg is thus found to
be a striking trait of Korean folk-lore. The transformation into human
shape of animals that have drunk of water that has lain for twenty years in
a human skull is another favourite theme with Korean story-tellers.
Buddhistic stories are very common and probably outnumber all others
two to one. This is because Buddhism gives a wider field for the play of
the Korean imagination. The stories of filial love and other Confucian
themes comprise what may be called the Sunday-school literature of the
Koreans and while numerous they hold the same relation to other fiction,
as regards amount, that religious or ethical stories hold to ordinary of
fiction at home.
It remains to sum up what I have tried to say.
(1) None of the Korean dynasties, since the beginning of the
historical era, has been founded through the intervention of Chinese
influence.
(2) The language of Korea, in that particular which all
philologists admit to be the most distinctive of any people, namely, in the
grammar, has been wholly untouched by the Chinese, and even in the
vocabulary the borrowed words have been thoroughly assimilated and
form no larger proportion of the whole vocabulary than do borrowed
words in English or in many other languages.
(3) In spite of the adoption of so many Chinese customs the
temperament and disposition of the Korean remains clearly defined and
strikingly distinct from that of the Chinese.
(4) The religion of the vast majority of the Korean [page 41]
people consists of a perfunctory acceptance of Confucian teachings and a
vital clinging to their immemorial fetichism, the latter being modified by
the Indian Buddhistic philosophy.
(5) The one physical feature that differentiates the Korean from
other men in his own eyes and which forms his most cherished heirloom
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Korean Survivals
from the past — which in fact is his own badge of Korean citizenship —
the top knot, is, according to his own belief, a purely Korean survival;
while the Korean hat, the second most cherished thing, is also confessedly
of native origin.
(6) Every story borrowed from China can be matched with two
drawn from native sources and the proverbs of Korea are overwhelmingly
Korean. Even in borrowing they Koreanized their borrowings, just as the
greatest English poet drew the plots for most of his non-historical dramas
from European originals. In a country where illiteracy is so profound as
here folk lore exerts a powerful influence upon the people, and the very
fact that the Korean resembles the Chinese in nothing except superficial
observances shows that Chinese literature has taken no vital hold of him.
(7) When it comes to tabulating those Korean things that are
purely native and which have come down through the centuries untouched
by Chinese influences the task is impossible because there are so many
such things. They abound in Korean architecture, music, painting,
medicine, agriculture, fetichism, marriage and burial customs, sacrifices,
exorcism, games, dancing, salutations and jugglery.
The Korean’s boats, carts, saddles, yokes, implements,
embroidery, cabinets, silver work, paper, ji-gis, po-gyos, pipes, fans,
candle-sticks, pillows, matting, musical instruments, knives, and in fact
the whole range of ordinary objects are sui generis, and the constant
mention of these objects all down the course of Korean history shows that
they are Korean and not Chinese
In closing, I would call attention to the fact that in carefully
studying Korean life and customs it is very easy to pick out those things
which are of Chinese origin. Mr. Gale in his valuable paper, pointed out
many of them with great distinctness; but this very fact is a refutation of
the statement [page 42] that Korea has been overwhelmed and swallowed
up by Chinese ideas. If Korean life were such an exact replica of the
Chinese as we have been led to believe, would it not be very difficult thus
to pick out the points of resemblance and place them side by side with the
points of difference?
I would ask anyone who has travelled both in China and Korea
whether, in walking through the streets of Seoul, he is struck with any sort
of resemblance between the Koreans and the Chinese. They do not dress
like the Chinese, nor look like them, nor talk like them, nor work like
them, nor play like them, nor worship like them, nor eat like them, nor
bury like them, nor marry like them, nor trade like them. In all the large,
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Korean Survivals
the common, the outstanding facts of daily life and conduct the Korean is
no more Chinese than he is Japanese. In his literature he courts the
Chinese, but the gross illiteracy of Korea as a whole detracts enormously
from the importance of this argument.
It must be confessed then that, all things considered, the points of
similarity with the Chinese are the exception and that the survivals of
things purely native and indigenous are the rule.
DISCUSSION.
MR. GALE—The writer of this evening’s paper was to point out “what remains
that is distinctive of Korea and that differentiates her from China.” I still ask,
What are the survivals? The race is here as little like the Chinese ethnologically
as is their language philologically, but in their world of thought what survives? I
ask.
We are told by the reader that they used to call their king Kŭ-sŭ-gan or
Precious One; also Ch’a-ch’a-ong and Ch’a-ch’ŭng, diviner, wizard; also
I-sa-geum, the Honourable; also Ma-rip-kan. No other than our mutual friend
Ch’oé Chi-wŭn says that these vulgar uncouth names were disliked, that the
officials met and had them wiped out from the vocabulary of the nation. And
what have they continued to call the king since 503 A.D.? Wang, in-gun,
sang-gam, p’e-ha, whang-je — every native name disappeared and nothing but
Chinese names left — just as if in Great Britain they should drop the word king
and say “rex” or “roi.” This was not forced upon Sil-la, but was of her own
accord. Surely this is evidence rather of Chinese influence than of Korean
survivals. [page 43]
The writer in drawing a contrast between Tan-gun and Keui-ja would
seem to leave the impression that Tan-gun’s influence was considerable, and that
Keui-ja was largely mythical or doubtful and his whole influence to be
questioned.
Let me read a part of the prefece of the Tong-guk T’ong-gam, before
quoting from it a reference to Tan-gun and Keui-ja. “His Gracious Majesty King
Kang-hŭn, in conformity with destiny, opened up the kingdom, collected ancient
writings and stored them away in the private library.” [This was the founder of
the present dynasty, who came to the throne in 1392]. Three kings in succession,
increasing in excellent rule, appointed offices, opened up boards and collected
histories of Ko-ryŭ, of which there was one called Chŭn-sa and one Chŭl-yo
[Complete Chronicle and Important Events], and by degrees the writings of
historians were put in order.
“King Se-jo He-jang, the holy heaven-sent scholar whose spirit dwelt in
history, said to his courtiers ‘Although our Eastern State has many chronicles or
outlines (Sa) it is without an extensive book of history (T’ong-gam). Let us make
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one according to the Cha-ch’i’ [*A famous history written in the Song dynasty by
Sa Ma-giung and used as a model by Chu-ji. See Notes on Chinese Literature by
Wylie, page 20.] and so he ordered his scribe to prepare it but it was never
finished (1455-1468 A.D.).
“His Majesty, our present king, came to the throne, took control (1469),
and following the plans of his ancestors commanded Prince Tal-sŭng and nine
others, including the writer, Ye Keuk-ton, to prepare the Tong-guk T’ong-gam.”
They completed their work in the twenty-sixth day of the seventh moon,
1485, seven years before Columbus discovered America, and their work is
regarded to-day — yes, I believe I am safe in saying it — as the very highest
authority on Korean history. The Educational Department has made it the basis of
the Tong-guk Sa-geui recently published.
Now that the authority is given let me in two or three paragraphs quote
what is said of Tan-gun and Keui-ja. Regarding Tan-gun it reads―
“The last State was without a king when a spirit-man alighted beneath
the Sandalwood tree. The people of the country made him king. King
Sandalwood (Tan-gun). The name of the state was Cho-sŭn. This took place in
Mu-jin year of Tang-jo (2333 B.C.). At first P’yŭng-yang was the site of the
capital, but afterwards it was removed to Păk-ak. He continued till the year
Eul-mi, the eighth year of the Song monarch Mu-jong (1317 B.C.?). Then he
entered A-sa-tal Mountain and became a spirit.”
This is all that is said of Tan-gun. No mention is made of him in
Chinese history that I have been able to discover. In fact, he belongs entirely to
the mythical age. But with Keui-ja it is different. As long as the “Great Plan”
stands in the Book of History we have no doubt of Keui-ja’s having once lived.
Over 100 pages in Vol. VI. of the Korean edition are filled with notes of Chu-ja
and other sages of China, explaining [page 44] the meaning and purpose of
Wisdom as seen in the Hong-pŭm. We must admit that he existed in a very
different way from Tan-gun. Now as to his having been in Korea, Ch’ă-jim, a
Chinese scholar of the 12th century, who annotated the Book of History, says
“After Keui-ja wrote the Great Plan, King Mu appointed him to Cho-sŭn and
made it an independent state because Keui-ja did not wish to serve King Mu.” In
the ninth book of the Analects we read that Confucius desired to go east and live
among the barbarians, crossing the sea, which certainly proves that Manchuria
was out of the question. Some one asked, “Would that not soil you, master?” His
reply was “Nothing can defile where the Superior Man is.” Hu-ja-pang adds the
note “When a man like Keui-ja could take over Cho-sŭn and live among
barbarians, what is there about it that is mean?” Mayers, Giles and Legge, all
understand that Keui-ja came to Cho-sŭn across the Yalu, and Carles says that the
sights and associations around P’yŭng-yang make him as evident there as
Shakespeare is in Stratford-on-Avon.
The T’ong-gam goes on to say, quoting from the Book of History. Vol.
VI., that Keui-ja did not wish to serve a usurper; that King Mu handed him over
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Cho-sŭn; that he gave the people the Eight Laws and the Nine Field Divisions —
in fact, that the endeavoured to carry out the principles so wonderfully stated in
the Book of History and so highly praised by the sages of China. The result
was—no need to lock the doors; the women were chaste and faithful; fields and
meadows were opened up; towns and cities were built [apparently before that
time they were the wandering people called the “Nine Tribes” in the Book of
History]; people ate from sacrificial dishes and there was development of truth
and goodness.
A Chinaman, Pŭm-yŭp, who lived about the 5th century A.D. and wrote
the Book of the After Han, says Keui-ja made his escape. came to Cho-sŭn, gave
the document of the Eight Laws and made the people know what they prohibited,
so that there was no unchastity or theft in the cities; they did not lock their doors
by night; gentleness became the custom; religion and righteousness abounded;
laws for teaching were definitely stated, and faith and virtue were practised so
that the source of law as acknowledged by the ancient sages was received.
Ham Ho-ja also says “Keui-ja mustered 5,000 men of the Middle
Kingdom, came to Cho-sŭn, and brought with him poetry, history, ceremony,
music, medicine, witchcraft, the Eum-yang, divination, fortune telling; also the
various kinds of workmanship, skilled labor. When he came to Cho-sŭn he could
not communicate by speech and so understood by interpretation. He taught poetry,
history — so that the people might know the forms of ceremony and music of the
Middle Kingdom — the religion of father and son, king and courtier, the law of
the five relationships, also the eight laws, elevating faith and goodness and
making much of culture and causing the customs of the Middle Kingdom to
ferment in the land. He taught them to esteem lightly military valour, but to repay
violence by virtue. The neighbouring states all looked [page 45] up at his
righteousness and made friends. Because his clothing and fashions were all like
those of the Middle Kingdom, they called Cho-sŭn the State of Poetry, History,
Ceremony and Music, the King of Charity. Keui-ja began these things and who
can fail to think so? As a result of the reign of Keui-ja the Han records speak of
Korea as the Development of Goodness; the Tang records, “The Superior Man’s
Nation;” the Song records, as the Country of Ceremony, Music and Literature.
This ends the account regarding Keui-ja and Tan-gun, and to my mind
it excludes the possibility of the correctness of the comparison drawn in to-day’s
paper.
I mention Keui-ja particularly because I believe that his is the most
powerful influence that has touched this country in the person of one man, for he
has continued till to-day in his writing and laws. Even the formulation of the Five
Relationships came from Keui-ja.
Wi-man is spoken of as a semi-barbarian half Manchu. He was a
Yŭn-in, which to-day means Pekingese; he helped build the Great Wall against
barbarian tribes, so I include his influence in that of China. When he first came to
Cho-sŭn Keui-jun made him a Pak-sa or Doctor of Laws. He must have been
58
Korean Survivals
acquainted with Chinese civilization to merit such a title — unless he purchased

his degree — in which case it would show his respect for things Chinese. I
connected the top-knot with Wi-man, because the history says “Wi-man flying for
his life with 1000 followers and more wearing the ‘Ch’u’ (top-knot) came to
Korea.” I would like to get from the reader of the day the anthority that says
Tan-gun gave the top-knot and to see the Chinese character that is used to express
it.
The writer maintains that the Three Hans were all named years before
the Chinese came and that they, the Chinese, did not in any way figure in the
founding of these states. The name Han, however, has evidently come from China
and it came to stay for the present name is Han once more. The Tong-guk
T’ong-gam says; “Chin Han (using the Chinese hour character Chin) was to the
west of Ma-han, The story is that fugitives from the Chin State of China, in order
to escape trouble, came to Han. Han apportioned to them territory to the east,
where they set up their city. Their speech was the same as that of the people of
Chinese Chin. Some call the country Chin-Han (using the same Chin as the
Chinese). They had as king a man from Ma-han, and although they continued
from generation to generation it is evident that they did not become independent.
They were permanently under the restraint of Ma-han. The land was suitable for
the Five Grains. Their custom of agriculture provided sufficient. They skilfully
wove silk and cotton; they rode in ox and horse carts. They had marriage laws
and the sexes were separated. Those on the road meeting women would stop and
ask others to pass before them.”
Kwŭn-geun, who was a minister of the Ko-ryŭ dynasty and royal
librarian in 1375, says “The language of the Three Hans was not the same. The
Cho-sŭn king, Keui-jun, who escaped from the war of Wi-man [page 46] and came
south by sea, united fifty separate states, opened up a kingdom and called it
Ma-han. It lasted till the time of On-jo of Păk-je, who united it into one. Ok-ju of
to-day is the ancient site and people still call it Keui-jun’s city. The founder of
Sil-la, Hyŭk-kŭ-se, set up Chin-Han or made it one state.” All this would seem to
contradict what we have heard and to say that the Chinese and descendants of
Chinese had much to do with the gathering together of the small separate states
under the names of Ma-Han and Chin-Han.
The reader asks What is Confucianism? Simply a formulation of those
simple laws of conduct which are common to the entire human family, the love of
parents, etc. I leave a future paper before this Society, whoever it may be written
by, to deal with this paragraph. It seems to me it has looked at a detail or two and
missed the whole colossal outline of Confucianism.
Sŭl-chŭng invented the Nitu to “wean” the natives from Chinese, we
are told, but it seems to me to be a system designed rather to aid and encourage
the reading of Chinese.
The simile so well worked out with England as the other quantity is
most interesting but I question the correctness of it. If the comparison with
59
Korean Survivals
England were true and classic and Continental influences were equal to the
influence of China upon Korea, I should not expect to find England mother of a
republic like the United States or so evident in India, South Africa, Australia and
Canada. Since the ancient Britons were, as the reader affirms, much like the
ancient Koreans — equal in their manner of life, ignorance and superstition, and
if, as the writer also maintains, the influence from the Continent were the same as
that of China upon Korea. I should expect to find in England to-day a condition
similar to the one here. What would it be? Let us picture it merely in the literary
kingdom. I enter a primary school and the boys are singing away at Latin and
Greek. There are no girls, I beg you to notice; that is part of the influence. Do
they understand what they read? Oh, no! they’re studying the sounds now; they’ll
get the meanings later. No England history is taught; no English literature.
English is spoken merely as a means of getting at the classics. “Sing, oh goddess!
the destructive wrath of Achilles.” In recess time games on the lawn would be
between Priam and Agamemnon. They would talk of battering down the walls of
Troy, as though it had happened yesterday. The nurse caring for the baby would
sing of Diomedes and Hector and the men as they work at the docks would sing
of Menelaus, who was a contemporary of Kang-tă-kong that the coolies sing of
here; of Agamemnon, who stands for Mo-wang; of the Troubadours of
Languedoc, who lived at the time of Yi Ta-păk and of Titus Quintius Flaminius,
who was a contemporary of Han-sin. Nine songs out of ten would take you to the
Olympian Mountains or the Forum.
I go to a book-store and inquire “Have you a history of the reign of
Elizabeth?” — Upso (no-have-got). “Or of George the Third?” — “George the
Third? why you must be ignorant!” says the book man. “There can be no official
history of George the Third until after this dynasty goes to [page 47] pieces. There
is one written of Elizabeth, however. I haven’t any; but there is a Jew down in
Whitechapel who had one last year, but whether it is sold or not I can’t tell.”
“What histories have you, pray?” — “This room is filled with the Taking of Troy,
Invasion of the Persians, Battle of Marathon, The Messenic War, Philip of
Macedon. Punic Wars, Mithridates, Caesar. Of course you know the Goths came
in the 5th century and knocked out everything. We’ve had no history since. I have
here a new edition of a book of prayers to Pluto and Venus. Here is a book also
that proves that Ovid was superior to Moses; also the History of the
Peloponnesian War by Thucydides. By the way, I have a book or two on the
Crusades, but it is too modern to be interesting and the style is poor; I advise you
to read Thucydides instead.” “But I’m after English history. What about the battle
of Waterloo?” — “Waterloo? when was that? Oh, yes! I remember now, but it has
never been put into Latin; we have not any. Wellington, was that his name? He
was great, they say; but yet he was nothing compared with Leonidas. How those
Spartans did fight! Wonderful, wasn’t it?” The books, too, are all in Latin and
Greek.
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Korean Survivals
At last I find a modest shop that sells English stories. I open one and it
reads “In the Fourth Year of Sextius Pompius” — and drop it. Another “John
Smith, a soldier serving under Charles Martel.” This is the latest date that figures
in the book store. Another “When Alaric invaded Italy.” I ask for newspapers and
am told that there are none. “Why do you wish newspapers? Can they equal the
classics?” — and silence settles over me. People talk in a half conscious way of
South Africa but no one knows definitely. Scholars are reading Xenophon in
place of Chamberlain. The non-lettered classes are eating, dozing, smoking,
sleeping.
“Who are your noted men and what public days do you have?” I ask.
“Our noted men, in fact, the only noted men the world has ever seen, are
Homerus, Aeschylus, Aristotle, Demosthenes, Themistocles, Epicurus,
Hyacinthus, etc., etc. “But what about Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare?” —
“We do not keep them. They are low class literature, and you’ll find them in
second-hand shops and old clothes stores. Our noted days are 1st. The Roman
New Year, 2nd. The Birthday of Romulus, 3rd. In honour of Alexander, 4th.
Thanksgiving Day.”
“Whom do you worship?” — “Worship! Why, Jupiter, Venus, Mars, of
course and the rest of them.”
If I should find such a state of affairs in the world of literature and
thought in England I should not say that Englishmen were Romans or that the
English language was Greek, but I should say; “These people have been
influenced by the Continent in precisely the same way that Korea has been
influenced by China.” But as there is no such condition I believe there has been
no similar influence. The voice of Greece and Rome says “Forward, march!” the
voice of China says “Retreat.”
MR. JONES: — In attempting to identify those customs and institutions
of the Koreans which are not traceable to China, and which may be said to be
original with the Peninsular people, and to have persisted through [page 48] the
centuries of Chinese influence to the present day, we are confronted at the outset
by the question of the origin of the Korean people. Without attempting to enter
into a discussion of this very interesting phase of the question, I would say that it
seems agreed on all sides that the aboriginal Korean did not come from China.
That is to say—there was an original stock here upon which Chinese influence
came to work, and in relation to that stock Chinese influence was foreign. Mr.
Hulbert is therefore correct in contending that there are among the Koreans many
customs and institutions which are purely Korean and do not belong to the
category of Chinese influence. There was a time when this Chinese influence did
not exist here. The Koreans were then simon-pure, as the saying is. They had
their own social and political economies, and were developing along the line of
forces which were original with themselves. But we must also agree with Mr.
Gale that there was a time and a point at which Chinese influence came in, and a
period during which it gradually spread itself over the face of Korean society and
61
Korean Survivals
impressed it with many of its features. We must also agree with Mr. Gale that this
period has been a long one and the work very thorough. The Chinese influence
had its beginning with the Keui-ja dynasty, but when Keui-ja came to Korea he
found here a settled populace existing under the rule of the Tan-gun chiefs. Then
when Keui-jun, the last of the Keui-jun kings, fled south, he found numerous
communities out of which he organized his principality of Ma-han. As history
develops we hear of other peoples as inhabiting the Peninsula, such as the Măk,
Yé, Ok-chŭ and Eum-yu tribes, all possessing customs and peculiarities of their
own. These peoples were confessedly not Chinese, and the customs and habits
which they originated have either persisted through the centuries, or have been
modified or have been utterly obliterated. Many of them have been obliterated.
The So-do or “‘thieves’ city,” a place of refuge for criminals among the Han
peoples, to which they might flee from the vengeance of those they had wronged,
and which is a remarkable reminder of the Cities of Refuge of the Old Testament,
has not existed for many centuries. The custom of burying people alive in the
tombs of royalty was discontinued in Sil-la in the 6th century A.D. The Ok-chŭ
custom of preserving the skeletons of the dead in the trunks of burial-trees has
also disappeared. These and many others are the customs of savage tribes, which
naturally gave way to the better order Chinese influence introduced.
Among the customs and institutions of to-day which have not come
from China, but seem to be entitled to the term “Koran survivals,” the spirit or
Shaman worship of the Koreans is one of the chief. The traces of Shamanism are
to be found in the very dawn of Korean history. Tan-gun, the first worthy
mentioned, claimed descent from Ché-sŭk, one of the chief Shaman demons. The
early kings of Sil-la took the Shaman title of seers or exorcists for the royal
designation. As far as we know this has always been the Korean’s religion and
while we would not deny that China has its demon worship, yet, at the same time,
we would claim that the Koreans did not have to go to China for [page 49] their
system, but that it existed from pre-Keui-ja days and has persisted to the present
time.
In this connection I would mention another “survival” of some interest,
namely, the fetich system which is a part of Korean Shamanism. The old shoes
and battered hats and torn costumes and broken pots which are the emblems of its
demons, seem to belong to Korea. This is mentioned as being a special feature,
distinguishing the aborigines of South Korea from the Chin emigrants who came
to the Peninsula in the days of the Great Wall Builder, and mention is also made
at that time of the shrine just inside the door, where, to this day, the Korean keeps
the emblems of the gods of luck. Along the same line are the sŭng-whang-dang,
or shrine along the way-side and in mountain defiles, composed of loose stones.
These, I am told, are certainly not Chinese.
Turning now to the Korean social system we notice that one of its most
prominent features is the caste idea which is firmly held to among the Koreans —
a feature which stands them up in direct contrast to the Chinese. The gulf which
62
Korean Survivals
separates the Korean sang-nom from the yang-ban is a wide one. The low-class
man may not enter the aristocrat’s presence without permission, and then the
favour, if granted, must be recompensed with humiliating observances, which
would seem to indicate that the yang-ban regards himself as of separate origin
and clay from the coolie. We call this Yangbanism. which is another word for
Caste. It certainly does not point us to China. It is not to be deduced from the
teachings of the Confucian sages, though these have inspired the Korean with
such a high estimation of the worth of learning that he has been willing, in order
to recognize literary talent, to mitigate some of the severities of the Caste system.
The poor, blooded aristocrat, tracing his ancestry back to a superior and
conquering family or clan, moves in a circle of society to which the tainted
low-class man can never hope to find entrance. No intermarriage is possible
among them. Certain of the middle grades of the social scale may furnish the
yang-ban with concubines but never with a wife, and there are some grades
among the lower classes from which he would not take even a concubine. Men
from the lower classes may by sheer merit force themselves high up in official
preferment, but under the system which prevailed until 1895, and which was
distinctively Korean, there were lines of civil service from which they and their
descendants were for ever barred by the accident of their low birth. This certainly
is not Chinese. While there is a vast difference between the Caste idea of India
and that of Korea, yet its manifestation in the latter country points away from and
not to China.
Under this general heading of Caste in Korea we must place the
honorifics of the language. These constitute one of the most complicated and
knotty problems confronting the student. And yet to the Korean they come as
easy as breathing the air. To him they are not simply a habit or frame of mind
learned from some outside source, but they constitute an element of personality
and the key-note of his entire philosophy of life, which neither Confucius nor
Sakyamuni have educated out of him. [page 50]
Another Korean “survival” may be found in connection with the
architecture of the country. For instance, in China the chief building material is
brick. Brick meets the eye wherever it turns there. Now I suppose that as good
brick can be made of Korean clay as of Chinese clay, and yet the Koreans have
remained loyal to their native mud. The constituent materials of which the Korean
houses are built have survived all the rude shocks of Chinese influence and are
to-day, as in ancient times, of unbaked mud. We are told that in the times of
Tan-gun the aborigines lived in pits in the ground in winter time and in the trees
in the summer. And to-day it would not be difficult to find a score or more of
families in Seoul or Chemulpo who have simply dug a pit or hole in the ground,
covered it with a thatch-roof with a hole for an entrance, and are living in it
unembarrassed to any appreciable extent by this literal return to their original
source. Then take the mud hut which is the universal domicile here and contrast it
with the pits alongside, and it does not require a very vivid imagination to see in
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Korean Survivals
the hut simply the pit or hole in the ground taken out of the ground, set up above
the surface, and braced with sticks and straw so that it will stand. The Korean
house, as far as the average type is concerned, is not Chinese.
Whether there are any pure Korean “survivals” in the Korean costume I
am unable to say, but they themselves claim that the wristlet worn by them is not
Chinese. It would be interesting to know whether this claim will stand the test of
investigation. While on this point, however, I would say that I am inclined to
think that the green cloak worn by the women as a veil over their heads, which
has caused some one to liken them to animated Christmas trees, is not Chinese.
From earliest times the Koreans have been noted among the Chinese for
their fondness for fermented and distilled drinks. We find this weakness
mentioned in the native histories of the aboriginal tribes, and it seems to be in a
special sense a Korean custom. The Korean has certainly not gone to China for
his beverages, else tea would have come into use here. Neither did the Korean go
to China to learn how to make alcoholic drinks. He has certainly possessed that
knowledge as long as we find any trace of him.
In this connection the Korean’s fondness for hot flavours in his food
might be mentioned. Pepper is a favourite condiment with him and in this the
stands in direct contrast with the Chinese. Among his foodstuffs investigation
would doubtless reveal many interesting and remarkable “survivals.” And so with
ordinary life. Did we know more about the Korean and his history, and how he
regards the customs and institutions which are his, we would find many things of
which he alone is the ingenious contriver. In conclusion I would mention the
Korean method of ironing, which the Koreans claim is their own or at least did
not come from China. How true this is I cannot say, but I mention it as
representing the native idea in the matter.
64
Volume I. 1900.
[page 51]
Inscription on Buddha at Eun-jin
FRONT
光照曰塗八五來立方齊於遣于童稽
明曜市黃尺尺一其以運庚使本子古
同乾津金盖五如本未而午入縣聲高
時坤也或方寸其積立先訖路自俄麗
相內立飭廣圍規沙爲頭功敷官而光
應中畢紫十三乃土慮至於求覈進宗
云國天金一十立而適連丙掌秦見之
名僧雨於尺尺厥次到山午工上則十
觀智大是小耳像立沙地凡人達有九
燭眼注乎盖長盖其梯南三成命大年
也望洗四六九童中有村十梵百石己
自氣滌方尺尺子又雙二七相官從巳
是從體風五眉卽如童十年者會地沙
之來像聞寸間文是子里也僧議中梯
後而瑞萬小六殊而戱因尊慧啓聳村
祥禮氣姓金尺普竟造名像明曰出女
瑞之盤雲佛口賢立泥其旣應此心採
之曰欝集三角化其土村具擧必驚蕨
氣嘉至敬尺三爲末爲曰欲朝作恠于
時州三禮五尺指慧三牛安廷梵之盤
從有七者寸五敎明同頭道擢相歸藥
梵大日如蓮寸云熟佛也場工之言山
相像眉市花火佛視像慧遂匠兆其西
出亦間故枚光像大卽明千百也女北
直東玉名十五身悟平雖餘餘令壻隅
透向毫其一尺長欣地成人人尙壻忽
半而之前尺冠五然而神並始醫卽聞
空立光流或高十還先像力事院告有
65
Korea’s Colossal Image of Buddha
[page 52]
BACK
休燭運層獘在修於事朝空而爲外
尊煇化三爲前雍洪則廷凶所蘆八
像煌權而化城正武各遣亂戴笠表
與紙黙連主築十十隨官則盖僧緇
世錢輸丈乾雜三九其祝遍冠蹇素
同堆神六隆以年年願辭體自衣之
久積工之庚土乙丙此曰汗爾渡徒
壬惠日加申石卯寅亦敬流破江一
午我月千改自僧重報設手缺衆邦
六邦明佛築爲性修應消花其知貴
月家竝之石頹能於之災無標其賤
令恤天宗堞落改萬明國色宛淺之
內我地萬兼至修曆效泰然驅輩
司愚德像於明徐九也民可入無
遣蒙合特床道潭年古安知水不
人傑四靈卓場朴辛蹟云其中敬
脫然方效亦便信巳所云爲溺奉
綱之風所皆作等居記自國死焉
姿聞著一糞所土多古之者者
卓萬冥新穢造白有風誠過昔
爾姓應云之鐵只破俗國半在
之雲靡爾所網康落盡家矣唐
容集忒銘邑云熙難誠太唐亂
前傾有曰底耳十以尊平將賊
古財禱長老佛三悉崇則以兵
所破莫身人像年解無滿釰至
無産違屹慨塗甲正不身擊鴨
後竭無屹然灰寅門陰光之綠
今誠願方於則僧法隲潤斷江
唯殫不冠破僧智堂禱瑞其此
有力從峨壞信能初其氣笠像
於燈潜峨之摠改設萬盤子化
66
[page 53]
TRANSLATION OF THE INSCRIPTION TABLET, EUN-JIN BUDDHA,
KOREA
FRONT
Looking back to ancient times we find that in the year Eul-sa,

being the 19th year (A.D. 996) of the reign of King Kwang-jong of the
Ko-ryŭ dynasty, a woman of the Sa-jé hamlet was collecting bracken
among the P'an-yak hills, when from the north-west nook she heard the
voice of a boy. Presently she approached the place and saw a big stone
protruding from the ground. She was frightened and amazed and returning
home told her son-in-law, who reported the matter to the magistrate. The
latter having made an official inquiry sent a report to the Throne and the
officials were ordered to meet and deliberate. Their decision was that the
stone was certainly intended for an image of Buddha. The high
Department of Physicians was then ordered to send messengers
throughout the eight provinces in search of artists to fashion it into the
image of a Buddha and the monk Hyoè-myŭng answering the call, the
Throne selected over one hundred stone cutters to assist him to begin the
work. The work was thus begun in the year 968 and completed in the year
1004, thus covering a period of thirty-six years.
When this holy image was completed a place was sought in
which to erect it and the united strength of over one thousand men was
employed in transporting it. Now because of the head having first reached
the place which is near Yon-san and [page 54] some 20 li from the south
hamlet, that village is therefore called “Bull's Head.” Although
Hyoé-myŭng had completed the image he had begun to worry over its not
having been set up when one day he saw twin boys who were playing at
making with earth the image of Buddha in three sections. On level ground
they first put up the base or lower section, and building a mud
embankment around it, they stood on this and built up the middle section,
and so on to the last. Hyoé-myŭng watching them was greatly enlightened,
and joyously returning to the image, erected it in accordance with this
example. These twin boys were none other than the Buddhas of
Knowledge and Wisdom, who had transformed themselves in order to
give instruction.
In height the body of the Buddha is 55 ft. and 5 in. It is 30 ft, in
circumference. The ears are 9 ft. long. The distance between the eyebrows is 6 ft.
67
The mouth is 3 ft. 5 in. and the cheeks are 5 ft. The hat is 8 ft. high. The slab of
stone on the head is 11 ft., and the smaller slab is 6 ft. 5 in. There is a small gold
Buddha 3 ft. 5 in. in height. The stalk of the lotus flower is 11 ft., plated with
yellow and dark red gold.
The fame of these events spread far and wide and worshippers by
tens of thousands gathered like the clouds, so vast being their numbers
that they made the place to resemble a market and this gave the name of
Si-jin (Market Ferry) to the ford in front of the image. When the image
was finally erected the heavens poured forth a heavy rain which cleaned
the Buddha and a holy light appeared to envelope its body. About three
weeks later there was seen a luminous light resembling jade shining forth
from between the eyes which illumined heaven and earth. And the
Chinese monk, "Sagacious Eye" (Chi-an) having seen the light was guided
by it to the image. Worshipping he said:— “In Ka-ju (China) there is a
great image which also stands facing the east and from it reflects a light
which coincides with the reflection from here. [page 55] It is called
Kwan-ch'ok (Reflecting Candle Image).” From that time on the holy and
propitious light was often seen shining forth from the image straight into
and beyond mid-heaven. Among all the black-robed classes (monks and
priests) and the rich and poor masses of the entire country there was not
one who did not reverently respect it.
Once there was war with the Tang dynasty and a multitude of the
foe's troops arriving at the Yalu river, the image transformed itself into a
straw-hatted monk and girding up its garments about it forded across the
river. The army of the enemy, thinking the water shallow, attempted to
cross, but falling in the water, more than half perished. This so greatly
angered the general that he struck the monk with his sword, cleft the hat,
and damaged the inner cap. The evidence of this is still visible. This
shows how devoted it is to the dynasty. Whenever peace reigns in the
country the propitious light shines bright from its entire body and is
reflected in mid-heaven. But whenever the people are in a disturbed state
perspiration is to be seen flowing from all parts of the body and the
colours disappear from the flowers in its hands.
BACK
Here came the officials of the government reverently praying

that evils be dispersed, peace prevail in the nation and the people enjoy
quietness. And from former times it has been the custom never to refuse
secret aid when sincere worship and honour were paid. Of ten thousand
68
things prayed for, it is universally known that not one deserved thing was
ever refused, but favours were freely bestowed. But as the accounts of
many of its miracles have disappeared it is difficult for us to record them.
The Mani temple was built in 1386. It was rebuilt by the layman
Păk-chi in 1581. In 1674 the monk Chi-neung again rebuilt it. The monk
Sung-neung had the honour [page 56] of again rebuilding it in 1735. The
iron chains were contributed by So-dam and Pak-sin. The lime plaster on
the head was done by the monk Sin-jong. There was once a wall of stone
and earth about it, but it fell into decay and disappeared and the most
glorious platform became a place for heaping up refuse. An old man,
grieved at the ruin of the place, became a solicitor of funds to restore it,
and in the year 1740 a stone wall was built and the alter and utensils were
renewed.
The colossal body so dignified, and the cap so lofty! The three
sections joined together are higher than six heights! The chief of a
thousand Buddhas and the most spiritual of ten thousand idols! Its
revealed benefits and secret favours have never ceased. Things prayed for
were never denied and things wished for never refused. It exercised
secretly the perfect power of Wonder and silently piled up divine merit.
As brilliant as the sun and moon, and as virtuous as the heaven and earth,
its fame is known everywhere and multitudes gathered to it like the clouds,
selling their possessions and breaking up their property in the single desire
to do reverence perfectly. Lamps and candles gleamed brightly and money
was heaped up in front of it like earth. It gave grace to the royal house and
pity to the foolish multitudes. The substance of its perfection and its
exaltation were like its towering head. Never before was there its fellow
with like dignified appearance and holy countenance and it will be
difficult for one to appear in the future. Oh beautiful, thou idol! Thou shalt
last as long as this earth stands.
(The inscription ends with the names of the persons who
composed and cut the inscription on the tablet and the date 1743(?),
followed by the names of sixty-seven persons who contributed the funds
for the work).
[page 57]
Korea’s Colossal Image of Buddha.

By Rev. G. H. Jones. [George Heber Jones]
69
In a deserted nook in the mountains which mark the boundary between the
provinces of Chung-chŭng and Chŭlla there stands the colossal stone
Buddha of Korea, surrounded by desolation and abandoned to the ravages
of time. A long cherished plan to visit and inspect it has been realized by
the writer, and the following account has been prepared in response to
your kind invitation. Prefatory to the account of the trip, I would call your
attention to two things which must impress the observer in connection
with monuments in general throughout Korea.
First of all, the interest in them is dependent — as is the case
with monumental relics generally — upon a knowledge of their history. It
is rare that we find a monument which possesses such noteworthy features
that, divorced from its historical associations, it attracts the passer by. Of
course there are monuments in the Far East, which for their own intrinsic
worth repay the visitor, but in this feature Korea cannot begin to compare
with China or Japan, and is necessarily a disappointment to the tourist. For
Korea, like every other nation, has its great monuments. There are
scattered throughout the land memorial marks which stand for historical
tragedies and comedies, for the rise and fall of royal dynasties, for
religious, political, commercial and racial conquests, for the great deeds of
great men, and sometimes for the foolish deeds of foolish [page 58] men. It
is foreign to the purpose of this paper to give examples of each of these
classes, though it might be done. Suffice it to say that to-day, to the great
mass of the Koreans, these monuments stand voiceless and meaningless
because their history is unknown or inaccessible and the oral traditions
concerning them have wandered so far from the path of truth during their
journey through time that they no longer shed light in the darkness which
surrounds them. A large field and an interesting awaits scholars at this
point. Already the Hon. H. N. Allen has placed us under a debt of
gratitude in preserving for us in the earlier volumes of the Korean
Repository some account of the interesting places about Seoul. Let us
hope that one of these days native scholars will take this matter up and
that these memorials will once more become vocal of the events, ideas
and institutions for which they stand.
The second matter of which I would speak is the disappointment
which awaits a person visiting Korean monuments, due to the decay and
ruin in which they are generally found. They seem to have been
abandoned as useless and valueless. Left to be the sport to time and of the
elements, to crumble into dust and disappear in the wind. This is certainly
an anomaly among a nation of ancestor worshippers. Take, for instance,
70
the pagoda monument of Seoul — a beautiful specimen of carved marble

of which any city might be proud and which has stood in the heart of the
city for seven hundred years. Three centuries ago it became the object of
the destructive fortune of war, and the victorious Japanese, attempting to
destroy if, succeeded in pulling down the upper part. The debris lay in the
square about its base, and it would seem that one of the first things the
Koreans would do on regaining possession of the city would be to restore
the monument. But the debris was left where it had fallen for three
hundred years undisturbed. Houses gradually encroached on the square on
which it stood until one builder, becoming more bold than the others,
finally erected his house around the monument, leaving it standing in the
centre of his inner court, which was not more that twenty feet square. And
here it was left until 1895, and to visit it you had to go along filthy
alley-ways, squeeze your way through Lilliputian doorways, [page 59]
before you could reach it. It is certainly a matter for congratulation that
this condition of affairs has been remedied in the case of the Seoul pagoda,
and the work might well be taken up in connection with other places.
Among the really great monuments of Korea the colossal stone
Buddha of Eun-jin occupies a foremost place. About it centre most
interesting tradition and legend; its manner of construction makes it a
genuine curiosity, and its size constitutes it a real wonder. It is a memorial
of religious conquest, and our interest is increased when we reflect that
to-day it stands for the glory and the fall of Korean Buddhism.
It will be in order to give first some account of the journey
necessary to reach it and the locality in which it is located.
(1) THE JOURNEY.
This colossal image is erected in the prefecture Eun-jin, in the

southern part of the Chung-chŭng province. To be exact, the monastery in
which the Buddha stands is 400 li south of Seoul (130 English miles) and
may be reached either by pony or by chair from Seoul in four days. We
left the Capital in November and on bicycle took the great southeastern
road down the Peninsula through Su-won to Kong-ju. The road itself is a
fine one and we enjoyed this part of the trip very much until near Kong-ju,
when some heathen stole our pump and the bicycle was rendered useless.
(Moral―take along an extra pump with your bicycle). The road is a very
interesting one. At Su-won you find one of the prettiest walled cities in
Korea, and the accommodation at the inns is not altogether bad. Near by is
71
the tomb of a former crown prince, who lived about the middle of the
eighteenth century, and whose history makes this tomb the monument of a
great tragedy. Upon this crown prince, whose name was Chong-hon, has
recently been conferred the posthumous title of emperor. The mausoleum
is well worthy a visit for its beautiful groves.
Between Su-won and Kong-ju we strike the A-san battlefield,
where was fought the opening land engagement of the Japan-China war
and where you can still trace the course of the conflict. On this section of
the road the inn accommodation [page 60] is execrable. Arrived at Kong-ju
we again can get fair accommodation for Korea. Kong-ju is a very
interesting city, but we spend only one night there and keeping still to the
direct south along the road to Chun-ju, a day’s journey, as Korean ponies
travel, brings you to the monastery. It was our good fortune to take
another road down the valley of the Keum river to Kang-gyŭnri, where we
found Rev. F. W. Steadman, who gave us much assistance and as we were
thus only twenty-five li away from the Colossus this was most convenient.
Another possible way of reaching the Colossus is to go by
steamer to Kun-san. From there to Kang-gyŭngi is only 90 li and there is a
steam launch in which the distance may be made.
(2) HISTORY OF THE LOCALITY.
At Kang-gyŭngi we are in the prefecture of Eun-jin in which the

image stands, this prefecture being a small border district between the
provinces of Chung-chŭng and Chŭlla. It lies in the valley of the beautiful
Keum-gang, or Embroidery River, and first came to notice historically in
the time of the ancient kingdom of Păk-che (B.C. 17-A.D. 660), during
which time the district was known as Tok-geum Kun. We are told that it
was a great commercial centre of Păk-che, so it must gave played no small
part in the introduction of foreign things into that kingdom. After several
changes in its name it was incorporated into Sil-la when that kingdom
overthrew Păk-che, and given the name of Tŭk-eun. In 1019 a slight
change of the characters, which did not change the sound, was introduced,
and this remained its name until 1419, when the present name of Eun-jin
was given to it. In this new name we find some interesting hints of a
historical character. The first syllable “Eun” is of course a relic of the old
Silla name of the district. The new syllable “jin” is part of the name of an
ancient district which was abolished in 1419 and its territories
incorporated in the new prefecture of Eun-jin. The name of this old
72
district was Si-jin-hyen. In its name “Si” means a market or place for trade;
“jin” means a ford or ferry-place; “hyen” indicates a magistracy of lower
grade. This name indicates the character of the [page 61] place, which was a
port of trade, a great commercial emporium famous in those ancient days;
and that the region has not lost this character to this day the great markets
at Non-mi and Kang-gyŭngi bear witness. It was to the ancient Si-jin that
the warlike and quarrelsome merchants of Păk-che resorted fifteen
hundred years ago to carry their trade. And that it was a port of much
importance is indicated by an old inscription which, describing the
merchant junks anchored there, said that the ships usually lay so closely
packed in that their masts and rudders were one inextricable mass. And to
this point, in those days so long gone by, must have come the merchants
of China and Japan, sometimes for trade, sometimes accompanying the
envoys of their countries, sometimes bringing warlike expeditions which
wrought havoc far and wide.
But the special interest these facts have for us in connection with
the great Buddha lies in the fact that it may have been here that Buddhism
itself first entered Păk-che. Buddhism was a foreign importation, being
sent to the peninsular kingdoms by the Eastern Tsin dynasty of China
(A.D. 317-19) and effecting an entrance almost simultaneously at two
points―in the north into Ko-gŭ-ryŭ and in the south into Păk-che. Of this
latter event the native historians tell us:― “In the year A.D. 384, the
barbarian monk Maranant’a came from Tsin. King Chip-yu accorded him
a most courteous and ceremonious reception and Buddhism was
established as the national religion.” We do not know at what point the
monk-missionary landed, but it is not so unlikely that he may have come
to this well-known port, and that one day among the ships making up that
inextricable mass of “masts and rudders” at Si-jin there may have come
the imperial junk of Tsin bearing the “barbarian monk Maranant’a” with
his images, incense, bells, books and vestments to plant in Korea that cult
which was to dominate the people for a thousand years, thus landing close
to the place where in later years the greatest monument that Buddhism
possesses was to stand. And two hundred years later (A.D. 550) there
probably embarked from this port that band of Păk-che priests sent by
their king to carry to the mikado of Japan the golden images of Buddha
and the triad of precious ones, the sutras and sacred [page 62] books, and to
give the faith of Buddha to the Sun-rise Empire. And it is said that these
relics exist to this day and are preserved in the city of Nagano in Japan.
73
How appropriate then that in a region so rich in Buddhistic

fancies, legends and lore should stand the most notable existing
monument of Korean Buddhism. While we cannot recover from the past
the reasons which caused the Buddhist hierarchy to locate the colossus at
this point, we certainly agree that the locality has been most fitly selected.
(3) THE MONASTERY.
The colossal Buddha is at Kwang-ch’ok-sa, the Monastery of the

Candle Lights. This name was given to the temple by a Chinese monk
who once visited the place and claimed that in China there was a duplicate
and that the name of its monastery was Kwan-ch’ok-sa, as we learn from
the inscription. As we approached it from the valley below, through which
runs the great overland road from Seoul, the sight was a striking one. High
up on the hill side, on a plateau possibly 300 feet above the valley, was
the monastery, its buildings clustering about the idol, and above their
roofs rising the head and shoulders of the image, white and shining in the
sun, its wide open eyes staring down at the beholder and well calculated to
impress the superstitious with awe. The whole is in a sort of niche or nook
in the hillside, the formation of the hill resembling a screen.
We crossed the valley by narrow and uncertain paths overgrown
with weeds, for, as mentioned in the case of the pagoda at Seoul, the
Koreans have made no attempt to keep up or save this memorial from ruin.
Not even its sanctity as a god has availed to save it from the ravages of
time. A crooked path led up to the plateau on which the image stands and
we soon found ourselves among the buildings of the monastery and at the
foot of the idol. The buildings were once very extensive, having been built
on a grand scale in 1386, and restored and rebuilt several times since.
Only a few of these buildings are standing to-day and the solitary
poverty-stricken monk gives no hint of the day when officials with royal
commissions, throngs of black-robed priests, and [page 63] the hoi polloi in
innumerable multitudes gathered here like clouds. The busy port of Si-jin
brought merchants and pilgrims to the shrine from the Three Kingdoms.
Its fame was widespread and the roads that led to it were broad and well
trodden. To quote:― “Devotees sold their possessions and inheritances in
order to do reverence perfectly. Lamps and candles gleamed all about it
and the coin of the realm was heaped up like dirt. It gave grace to the
royal house and pity to the foolish multitudes. The substance of its
perfection and its exaltation were like its towering head.” Thus it was
74
once; now all is solitude and ruin. The star of India has paled before that
of China. Confucius has as effectually supplanted Buddhism in Korea as
any purely human teacher can hope to do. This was illustrated by an
incident at the monastery. When we first arrived there it looked as though
the place was deserted. In one of the rooms, however, we found a village
school-master with some young-men pupils. He told me that he needed a
quiet place free from interruption, so he had come to the “Candle Light”
and installed himself there. In the room where he was holding forth were
the paraphernalia of the temple worship, and yet this did not embarrass
him in the least. This well illustrates the relation of the two cults in Korea.
Confucianism looks down with supreme contempt on Buddhism and
ignores its presence. Buddhism looks with condescension on
Confucianism and tolerates it in good nature. The Confucian teacher
needs a quiet place in which to instruct his pupils, so he appropriates the
best room in the nearest monastery. The Buddhist monk receives him with
politeness, acknowledges the social and political superiority of
Confucianism and gives him the best room in the temple.
(4) DESCRIPTION OF THE IDOL.
Outside the main building of the monastery, on a level earth

platform, stands the great image. It is an ingenious utilization of natural
rock. It consists of two immense boulders, which stand detached from the
bed rock back of them by about twenty feet. The lower one is about
eighteen feet high and thirty-eight feet in circumference. The front of it is
chiselled to represent the flowing skirts of a standing Buddha, and [page
64] from beneath these chiselled robes the toes of its bare feet are seen
peeping. It rises out of a basin-like pedestal. On top of this boulder there is
another one, possibly twenty feet in height, which has been cut to
represent the shoulders, neck and head of the image. This part has been
very carefully chiselled and highly polished, so that seen from a distance
on a bright sunny day the effect is striking and has given rise to the legend
that when the workmen had finally succeeded in erecting it there came a
great rain from heaven and the heavy deluge of water from on high so
cleansed the image that its body became glistening and white. The face is
very flat, giving it the appearance of a monstrosity, but this is not unusual
in idols, where superiority over man is generally represented by some
monstrous deviation from the normal state. In the eyesockets there are
black discs, probably of slate, for the eyeballs. Between the eyes is the
75
usual disc of brass, the symbol of the Buddha’s wisdom. Of this it is said
that three weeks after the miraculous washing there was discovered a light
shining forth from between its eyes, which filled earth and sky with its
radiance, and guided by this light pilgrims from distant lands found their
way to the image. Thus was the shining of a gold-plated disc on a sunny
day magnified into a supernatural light reaching to distant lands.
The ears of the image are immense and have perforated lobes
which hang down to the shoulders. The arms are separate stones cemented
to the body. The right hand is held at the girdle with fingers pointing
downward, while the left hand is held upright and carries a metal lotus
flower grasped between the thumb and forefinger. From the top of the
skull rises a round superstructure of stone to represent the coiffure. It is
plastered with white lime, is about six feet high and slightly tapering. ‘On
top of this rests a great stone slab fully ten feet long and seven feet wide,
which is carved and has brass bells and ornaments pendant from the
corners. It resembles a college mortar-board hat. From this rises another
cone three feet high, carrying a smaller stone slab, the whole terminating
in a spike apex.’
This gives a most striking figure of over fifty feet in height. Our
figures are necessarily approximations, but they will be found to be about
the size of the piece. In height is [page 65] shorter than its fellow in Japan,
which is sixty-five feet, but we must not forget that the Korean Colossus
antedates the Japanese one by 250 years and, it is not altogether unlikely,
may have suggested it and its superior height. Its weight is enormous. Its
situation is not without some art, for it has the appearance of some
colossal figure, a Korean Cyclops, as it were, who has strolled down the
hill-slope as far as the temple and has paused in the midst of the buildings
for a moment to give some instruction, the position of the arms and hands
lending themselves readily to this fancy. It is to be regretted that the
terrace in front is so small. No good view of the image can be had and it
will be almost impossible to obtain a good photograph.
There is a dressed-stone altar in front, but it bears no sign of
having been used in many years. There is also a huge stone lantern near
by, such as is common in the temples of Japan. Also stone tablets, bearing
an inscription with an account of the image. These are of a comparatively
modern date but probably carry most of the matter contained on any
original tablets that may have been put up here. The fate of these original
tablets is a mystery. It would be interesting to know what has become of
them, as well as of the stone inscriptions of the Ko-ryŭ dynasty, which
76
perished five hundred years ago. They seem to have disappeared from the
earth and we have only left the stone inscriptions of the present dynasty.
(5) HISTORY AND LEGENDS OF THE COLOSSUS.
For the history of the great idol we are dependent on the tablets
at the monastery itself and on the information to be culled from the Yŭ-ti
Seung-nam, an historical geography of the country, written four hundred
years ago. First of all is the main tablet, which was probably written in the
year 1743. The date it bears is a little uncertain, for it carries the
year-name of the last period of the Ming dynasty of China, which perished
before the Manchus in 1644. In their devotion to the memory of the Mings,
Korean scholars to this day date their literary works in the last year-period
of the Mings. This is very confusing, for though the first year of the period
was 1628, and, if numerals were used, we could easily calculate [page 66]
the year, yet the Koreans give only the sexagenary name of the year,
which recurs once every sixty years, so that we are at a loss to know
which cycle is meant. The date here given is “Syung-cheng chai kyei-hai.”
This “Syung-cheng” is the name of the last year period of the Mings and
began in 1628. “Chai kyei-hai” is the second “kye-hai” year after 1628,
which would make it 1743. It will be seen that the inscription is a
comparatively modern one, written long centuries after the erection of the
image, but we are able to compare its statements with those in the Yu-ti
Seung-nam, which dates from 1478, and as these substantially agree it is
evident that the traditions have been preserved on the tablet.
The tablet gives the date of the erection of the image as A.D.
1004, which seems correct. Concerning the origin of the Colossus the
following legend is told; It is said that in the year 966 a country woman
was gathering bracken on the slopes of the Pan-yak hill, where the image
stands, when she was startled by hearing the voice of a boy calling to her.
For a moment she was too frightened to move, but her terror passing away,
she went to the place whence came the voice and found that a great stone
had sprung high up out of the earth at that point. Hastening to her home
she told her son-in-law of the mysterious occurrence, and he immediately
went to the prefect and laid the matter before the magistrate. The latter on
investigation found the story correct, or at least found the great stone
broken out from the hill-side, so he sent an account of it in a memorial to
the king. The story was a matter of great wonder to the court and the
entire officiary of the realm was ordered to deliberate on the event and
77
furnish his majesty with a solution of the mystery. Their conclusion was
that the stone was a Buddha and should be carved into Buddha’s likeness
and reverenced as such. This commission to sculpture the stones was
committed to the High Department of Physicians. No explanation is given
for this peculiar task imposed on the doctors of the Korean court. Possibly
it was assigned to them because of the fact that their occupation deals with
the marvellous and the supernatural, and they were thus supposed to be
better qualified to undertake the task than other men. The High
Department of Physicians having scoured the land in search of a sculptor
with the requisite [page 67] talent for the great work, finally selected the
monk Hyei-myŭng, of whom we know nothing except in this connection.
To him was assigned the work and in it he was assisted by one hundred
stone cutters.
It took thirty-seven years to complete the task, which we can
well believe. In the inscription mention is made of moving the head
twenty li. From this obscure reference it would appear that the stone for
the upper part of the idol was brought from a distance and was not found
on the spot. The problem of raising this great mass, weighing many tons,
was a most serious one to the monk-sculptor, and for a time he was in
doubt as to how it could be accomplished. The following is the story of
the way the matter was solved:― “Now though Hyei-myŭng had
succeeded in fashioning the stone like to the god, yet he was at a loss to
find means for erecting the huge mass. One day, however, as he was
entering the Sa-chei hamlet his attention was attracted to twin boys who
were playing at making a mud Buddha three stories high. He quietly stood
and observed them and found that on a level space they first put up the
lower part of their work and then, building a mud embankment, from this
proceeded with the middle part of their work and having finished this the
same process enabled them to put on the head. The lesson was not lost on
Hyei-myŭng, who thus discovered the solution of his problem. Full of joy
he returned to the work and following the example of the boys succeeded
in raising the image.” What this account actually stands for it is hard to
tell. It seems to indicate that the monk made use of scaffolding in getting
the stones up, and apparently that this was the first time such a process
had been used in Korea. This, however, ―that the idea of using
scaffolding was then first discovered in Korea seems incredible. It may
have been that the scaffolding itself was reinforced or supplemented by an
embankment of earth, for Korean scaffolds of green timber tied with straw
78
ropes are not adapted to support the immense strain which must have been
put on them when the upper part of the image was raised.
We have already indicated the popularity of the shrine in ancient
days. The statement in the inscription, however, that it was due to the
thronging multitudes at the shrine that [page 68] the district got its name of
Si-jin is clearly an anachronism, for the place was known by that name
centuries before the image was chiselled. The great Colossus was the
object of an unbroken stream of pilgrims, and many a poem was written
concerning it. One of the most famous of these is by Yi-săk, who lived
about 1358. This poem says:―
A hundred li to the east of Ma town
In Si-jin is the Monastery of the Candle Lights.
There is the great stone image, the Buddha.
I came. From out the earth I came.
On my high head is the snow colour.
Before is the great plain.
Where the farmers reap the grain they offer on my altar.
And when from my brow the perspiration flows
Then sovereign and ministers alike quake with fear,
And this is no legend of the lips,
But is woven into the nation’s history.
The poet has thus preserved for us with a few dashes of his brush
an animated picture of the scene and the supposed personality and
thoughts of the colossus god. The reference to the perspiration of the
image points to a very common superstition among the Koreans that in
times of impending national or dynastic calamity the body of the idol is
found to be covered with sweat and the brilliant colours disappear from
the lotus flower it carries in its hand. This latter portent has been visible
for several centuries now, without particularly disturbing the people or
alarming them. It is the sweat that they dread to see. There are of course
many legends clustering about the image. One of the most common of
these is in explanation of the cleft in the head-gear, which is quite visible.
There are two versions of this legend, the one in the inscription being as
follows:-
“Once there was war with the Tang dynasty and our foes came as
far as the Yalu river. Here, however, they were detained by being unable
to discover a ford. One day the idol transformed itself into a straw-hatted
monk and, gathering its skirts about it, came across the river in plain sight
of the Chinese army. This made the Tang troops think that they had
79
discovered a ford and, attempting to cross at the point the image was seen
at, more that half their number lost their lives [page 69] by drowning. This
so angered the Chinese general that he struck the monk with his sword,
intending to kill him, but only succeeded in making a cleft in his hat.
From this time the head-gear of the idol was seen to be broken. This is an
undeniable fact.”
But this “undeniable fact” will not bear inspection. The Tang
dynasty of China came to an end a hundred years before the image was
erected, so that the inscription is convicted of another bad case of
anachronism. The popular version is more plausible in some of its details
and certainly avoids the anachronistic pitfall. The usual form, as related to
travellers, is that in the time of the Japanese invasion (1592-97) the
invaders arrived on the banks of the Keum-gang, opposite Kang-gyŭngi,
but were unable to cross, the river being frozen over. Halted for a few
days by this they at last discovered a Korean of gigantic stature crossing
on the ice at a certain point. The Japanese immediately marshalled their
forces and essayed to cross, but the attempt was a fatal one, for the ice
broke under them and many lost their lives. The man of gigantic stature
proved to be the Colossus, and the Japanese, when they did get across,
sought revenge by trying to destroy the image with their cannon. They had
succeeded in injuring the head, when the idol sprang up into the sky out of
their reach.
One of the prettiest stories in connection with the Colossus is the
fable of the Mole, in which is embodied the homely truth that a man
should not seek to marry above his station. The fable is as follows:-
Once upon a time the Mole gave birth to a marvellous daughter.
In beauty she surpassed all others, and the proud father determined that he
would take for her husband only the greatest being in the universe. He
thought long before deciding who was the greatest being in the universe,
but finally concluded that it must be the Sky.
So one day to the Sky he went with the offer of his daughter in
marriage. The Sky expressed his high appreciation of the honour proposed
for him and said that he had heard of the wonderful beauty of the Mole’s
daughter, and certainly the only mate for her must be the greatest being in
the universe. Now though many thought that the Sky was the greatest
being in the universe yet it was not so, for the Sun [page 70] is certainly
greater that the Sky. For without the Sun to illumine and lighten, the Sky
becomes but invisible blackness. Only the Sun was a fit mate for the
Mole.
80
So to the Sun went the Mole. And the Sun after expressing his
delight at the honour proposed for him modestly called the attention of the
Mole to the Clouds which daily covered his face and wrapped him in
darkness. Against them he was powerless; for they were superior to him,
and in them alone would the Mole find a worthy mate for his daughter.
Then to the Clouds came the Mole, but they promptly pointed out that
they were but the plaything of the Wind, which hourly drove them
helter-skelter across the sky, making sport of them at its own sweet
will―surely none but the Wind might aspire to wed the maid. Seeking the
Wind the Mole made offer of his peerless daughter. But the Wind was
obliged to decline in favor of a greater, saying: “It is true that all bow
before my power and acknowledge my greatness, all except that stone
Colossus of Eun-jin. He alone defies me and though this many a year I
have smitten him hip and thigh, still he stands, and to him I must bow as
my superior. My marriage with Miss Mole would be the robbery of the
Colossus of his heaven-destined bride. Go to the Colossus and make him
your son-in-law.” So to the Colossus came the weary Mole and told him
the state of the case and asked him if he would wed his daughter. “Gladly
would I do so and highly honoured would I be in the marriage — were I
the worthiest being in the universe — but there is one greater than I for
whom the peerless daughter of the Mole is destined. It is true that I am
greater than the Wind, who is greater than the Cloud, who is greater than
the Sun, who is greater than the Sky itself. But underneath my feet there is
a little mole, and day by day he is burrowing away, preparing a pit into
which I know I shall one day topple. I stamp and I press with all my might
on his head, yet in vain. The mole is my conqueror and one day he will lay
me low. Only he of all in the universe is worthy of your daughter. Go
make him your son-in-law.” And the Mole came back to his hole in the
ground and declared how all the universe united in testifying that the
Moles are the greatest of all.
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Volume II. 1902
[page 37]
The Spirit Worship of the Koreans.

By Rev. Geo. Heber Jones, M.A. [George Heber Jones]
Introductory to our subject an interesting question presents itself which we

may profitably pause to consider and attempt to answer. The question is,
Do the Koreans possess a religion? While students in Korea seem now to
have reached a basis of agreement, in former years it was much
debated―a strong difference of opinion prevailing, some holding to the
negative and some to the affirmative. Those who held to the negative side
of the question meant, however, to declare, not that the Korean people
were devoid of all idea of religion, but that the old systems had fallen into
decay and lost their hold on the people, so that to all practical purposes
they were nonexistent, This question is an interesting one even to-day to
students of Korean conditions, but it seems to me that the definition of
terms must play a large part in the final solution.
What is meant by the expression “possess a religion,” as a phase
of national life? Some would reduce the answer to the smallest possible
content and claim that to “possess a religion” implies nothing more than
that the religion has become a phase of national life and that a large
number of the people accept its tenets and observe its rites. If this be a
sufficient definition, then Korea “possesses” three religions, viz.,
Confucianism, Buddhism and Shamanism. This was the position of those
who took the affirmative―that Korea has a religion. Others, however,
held that this was far too low a concept of “possessing a religion,” and
would be satisfied with nothing less than the definition of Principal Caird:
“Religion is the surrender of the finite will to the infinite, the abnegation
of all desire, inclination and ambition that pertains to me as this private
individual, the giving up of every aim or activity that points only to my
exclusive pleasure and interest, and the absolute identification of my will
with the will [page 38] of God.” Thus speaks the Christian scholar; and in
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The Spirit Worship of the Koreans
the peculiarly Christian sense of this view none of the above mentioned
religions can be said to have a religious hold on the Korean people. And
this is the contention of those who held that Korea was without a religion.
The question we are therefore seeking an answer to resolves
itself into one concerning the development of the religious sense of the
Korean people, and on this there is small ground for controversy. Any one
acquainted with the Korean people will know that they have a religious
sense, though it may be on a low plane of exercise.
1. They possess a sense of dependence on that which is above and
superior to themselves. They look out of themselves in time of need.
It may be only into the great blue firmament above, but it is a look
of expectation and hope.
2. They firmly believe that the human and the divine find a plane of
intercommunication and relation.
3. We find everywhere among them an earnest striving of the soul
after freedom from annoyance and pain.
And over against these three subjective conditions stand the various
religious systems held by the Korean people, with their solutions of the
problems and questions of human destiny. The missionary, blinded
somewhat by strong personal views of the superiority of the faith he
propagates, and the anthropologist with a keen desire to sink to the lowest
depths the level from which the man of to-day was evolved, may affirm of
a people that they are without a religion, but the facts always prove the
contrary. “A religious system is a normal and essential factor in every
evolving society,” and as such it is not wanting in Korea.
We have mentioned three forms of religious belief as prevailing
in Korea to-day. What is their relative status? They may be said to exist as
a community of religious belief, and no one of them is the religion of the
Korean people to the exclusion of the others. The worship of the dead, as
formulated by the Confucian school, is the religion of the imperial house
and as such is the state religion, for in Korea the reigning house is always
the State. As such, Confucianism is recognised and protected by law, and
the expenses in connection [page 39] with the state and provincial worship
of the Confucian sages is a charge on the public revenue. Then every
prefect is also compelled to maintain worship at the shrines of the local
spirits and the pom-neum, or tithes of rice for the Confucian worship, also
include rice for the official worship of these Shamanite gods. The
Buddhist hierarchy has also a semi-official status. A Buddhist monastery
on Kang-wha is utilized by the government as the depository for the
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duplicate archives of the dynasty and the monks constitute an official

guard of them. Subsidies are also granted other Buddhist monasteries
from imperial funds and in all Buddhist temples there will be found on the
altars tablets to the reigning emperor, empress and prince imperial.
Of these three systems Spirit Worship is the most ancient, its
introduction among the Korean people being lost in the gloom of
prehistoric times. The next in order of time was the cult of the dead to
which Confucius afterwards gave his name, and which was probably
brought to Korea by Keui-ja B.C. 1122. Buddhism did not come till
fourteen hundred years later (A.D. 372). These three systems have existed
side by side, or rather have overlapped and interpenetrated each other,
until to-day they are held in the mind of the average Korean as a confused
jumble. Confucianism has been able to maintain itself freer from
adulteration than the other two, but Buddhism has not hesitated to
appropriate Confucian ethics on the one hand and on the other to ally
itself with Shamanism. Shamanism has absorbed from the other two cults
nearly everything of a supernaturalistic character they possess, following
no law of consistency or selection. Thus, while theoretically the Korean
recognizes the separate character of the three cults of Confucianism,
Buddhism and Shamanism, practically they lie in his mind as a confused,
undigested mass of teaching and belief, hopelessly intermixed and chaotic.
He believes in all three. He personally takes his own eduction from
Confucius; he sends his wife to Buddha to pray for offspring, and in the
ills of life he willingly pays toll to Shamanite Mu-dang and Pan-su. The
average Korean is thus a follower of all three systems, in the hope that by
their united help he may reach a happy destiny. [page 40]
The subject which I have selected for discussion is the Shamanite
or Spirit Worship of the Koreans. By this is meant a belief in the existence
of innumerable spiritual intelligences ranging in character from the
mischievous and prankish Tok-gabi or goblin to the high and mighty Tă
Chang gun, Lord of the Spirit World; in the immanence of these beings
and in their control of the forces of the natural world and of the destinies
of man; in the obligation and subjection of man to these spirits and in the
necessity of ceremonies and offerings in propitiation of them; a belief that
these beings have the power to take possession of a man either for the
purpose of afflicting him or of using him for their own purposes; that they
perform many supernatural things among men, and that they possess a
knowledge of the future and can be induced to reveal it and to aid or
hinder man in his enterprises; that they hallow to themselves whisks of
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straw, earthen pots, garments, heaps of stones, trees, rocks and springs,
and that many of the objects thus sanctified become genuine fetiches,
endowed with the supernatural attributes of the being they represent, this
being specially true in the case of portraits sacred to demons.
While this definition is not complete in all details it fairly
outlines the creed of the Korean Shaman. Concerning the character of
these spirits, it is claimed that many of them are good and can be induced
to exercise a beneficent influence over the life of man, but many are
malevolent and no one of them but possesses the power to afflict man on
the merest caprice, and does so. In this respect they correspond to the old
Greek idea of a “daimōn,” and the word demonolatry is possibly a good
name for the system.
This belief in demons, ghosts and goblins is not confined to
Korea but is universal, and in Asia it is a large feature in the religious
belief of the masses. It constitutes a vast undergrowth in the religious
world through which the student must force his way with axe and torch. It
differs from the ethnic cults of religion in that it is prehistoric,
documentless and without system, and it lacks all articulation which
would permit the religious anatomist to dissect and classify it. In
development it is as rank as a tropical forest, [page 41] dark as the burrow
of a rat, as boneless as a fog, and as formless as chaos. If we attempt to
trace its origin historically we get lost. In China, the ideographs for spirit,
ghost and goblin are as ancient as those for heaven and God. In Korea,
Tan-gun, the first character in the native histories — if he ever existed
— was probably a shaman. And in Japan we are told that history takes its
rise in the spiritualistic legends of Kami-no-michi.
THE SHAMAN PANTHEON.
The Korean name for this great systemless spirit worship is

Shi-do (神道) or Spirit Way. It is sometimes confused by the Koreans
with Sŭn-do (仙道) or Taoism, but this is a mistake on their part, and
while the fame of Lao-tse is known among them they do not appear to
have adopted his cult.
The first article in the creed of the Shaman spirit worshipper is a
belief in the existence of innumerable spiritual intelligences which control
the fortunes of men. Most of these spiritual beings are represented to the
eye by some material object or fetich, thus making fetichism an important
feature of Korean Shamanism. The fetich, whatever it may be, is regarded
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as clothed with a certain sanctity and to it the Korean pays his worship.
Spirit and fetich become so identified in the mind of the devotee that it is
hard to determine which has the greater ascendancy, but it is certain that
the fetiches, however decayed and filthy they may become from age, are
still very sacred and the Korean dreads to show them violence. This shows
itself in the prohibition to visit them sometimes imposed on converts to
Christianity by non-believing relatives, because the convert’s presence
before the fetiches so annoyed and angered them that they would bring
disaster on the household.
It is a large task to undertake to catalogue the spirits in the
Korean pantheon. When we remember that in Japan Sintoism claims eight
million gods and in India Hinduism thirty-three millions, we can easily
believe that the number is beyond native computation. It is difficult to
describe them, because they are unhistorical; we can learn little that is
coherent and consistant. They also elude classification, [page 42] for they
know neither species nor genus. We can but take up a few of the more
commonly known ones for consideration. These are selected at hap-hazard,
but they are representative of the entire class and will indicate the facts of
the whole.
1. The O-bang Chang-gun (五方將軍). If you should visit the
home of one of the blind soothsayer priests of this system in Korea you
would find there a shrine or altar hung with red silk, and containing a
banner or tablet inscribed with the collective names of the spirits of the
O-bang Chang-gun or the God-Generals of the Five Quarters of the Sky.
According to the blind shamans these spirits rule the visible firmament
and are the chief deities of the Korean pantheon. To them the shaman pays
his best devotions with prayers, bellringing and incense, and upon them he
depends for aid in all his work. Their names and jurisdiction as given to
me by a shaman are as follows:-
(a) The Ch’ŭng-che Chang-gun (靑帝將軍), or Green
God-General, ruling the eastern sky.
(b) Chŭk-che Chang-gun (赤帝將軍), or Red God-General,
ruling the southern sky.
(c) The Păk-che Chang-gun (百帝將軍), or White God-General,
ruling the western sky.
(d) The Heuk-che Chang-gun (黑帝將軍), or Black God-General,
ruling the northern sky.
(e) The Whang-che Chang-gun (黃帝將軍), or Yellow
God-General, ruling the middle sky.
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These five gods are in many places regarded as the tutelary gods
of small villages and you will often find a group of posts, rudely carved to
represent human beings, at the entrance and exit of a village, which stand
for these Chang-gun. With the group will also be found a pole surmounted
by a wooden duck, which seems to be the sign of the generals. These
Chang-gun are supposed to protect those who are their favourites, and
their fetich is a very common one in Korea. Thus they stand on a road
leading in and out of a village or at the entrance to a valley in which a
hamlet may be located, to warn away any evil-minded spiritual wanderers
from entering and molesting the inhabitants. And each year a sacrifice of
rice dough and fruits is offered to them as a propitiation. [page 43]
2. The Sin-jang (神將). Below the five great generals are their
lieutenants who obey their behests and wait in a special manner upon the
shamans. These spirits are known as the Sin-jang or Spirit-Generals. They
number eighty thousand, and each is at the head of a spiritual host. This
will enable us to understand how easy it would be for Sintoism to have
eight million gods and Hinduism thirty-three millions. By the use of his
magic formulas any blind shaman can call to his aid one or more of these
spirit-generals, with their hosts of followers, and secure their aid in
exorcism or divination. To them the Koreans also privately erect shrines
which will contain a daub of a painting representing the spirit-general,
divinity being indicated, as is the case with most pagan art, by
monstrosity.
3. The San Sin-yŭng (山神靈), or San Sin (山神). Korea is a
mountainous land and the Koreans are mountaineers. To understand either
the one or the other this fact must be given due weight. Brought up amidst
these huge piled-up masses of rock and earth, taught from earliest
childhood to scale their heights, spending his days in their ever-changing
lights and shadows, which seem to give new forms to the mountains
themselves, the Korean, in his poetry and prose alike, betrays the
influence the mountains have had upon him. There is always an air of
mystery about mountains, and this mystery has penetrated the Korean’s
innermost soul. He loves them; he does not understand them; he fears
them. Through their mighty bowels flows a pulsing flood of vital life that
breeds men of desperate valour, so he says the ancients erected their
ponderous dolmens and cromlechs to cut off the flow of the life-pulse and
allow men instead of warriors to be born. But of all the mysteries of his
mountains, that which pleases and at the same time terrifies him most, is
the San Sin or Mountain Spirit. The mountain spirit dwells somewhere up
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on the slope towards the summit and is the real proprietor of the soil. And
when the simple country folk go to gather wood on the rugged sides of the
mountain they half feel like intruders and a fear and a dread comes over
them lest he punish them for theft. Then when the wood gatherers
assemble at mid-day for their meal, the first spoonful or rice is cast out on
the mountain side to the San Sin. They dread to [page 44] offend him; and
when the sickle slips and the foot or hand is cut, or a sudden fall and a
broken limb results, they wonder what offence they have committed
against the San Sin.
In passing through Korea the shrines to these San Sin will often
meet the eye. They are only miserable shanties at the best, built beside
some gushing stream or beneath some umbrageous tree or over some
moss-covered rock. In the latter case, the rock serves as an altar and the
shrine is regarded as especially fortunate. Here the spirit is represented by
a picture, usually showing him to be an old man clad in official robes of
high rank and sitting on a tiger. Most of the San Sin are represented as
males, and in this case the temple will contain portraits of the members of
his harem and altars to them. But sometimes the San Sin is a goddess, and
then the picture will be of a woman with men attendants. At one shrine in
South Korea I found that a Japanese kakemono, with the picture of a
beautiful Japanese type, had been hung in the shrine and was worshipped
as the goddess by the mountaineers.
The San Sin is the special deity of the hunters of deer and wild
ginseng, and is held in high honour by them. To him they present their
vows and offerings and trust him for success in their expeditions.
The tiger is held to be the special servant and messenger of the
San Sin and this adds to the terror in which he is held. Sometimes, when a
man-eater begins his depredations in a neighbourhood, the people will
conclude that the San-sin is angry with them and has sent the tiger to
afflict them. Then they hasten to the nearest shrine to appease the spirit’s
wrath with offerings. This demon is generally the special god of hermits,
who pass their lives in his service. And very frequently a Korean will
retire into some mountain fastness and spend one hundred days in prayer,
fasting and bathing, trusting to secure an interview with a San Sin and his
advice or aid in some personal enterprise. People who do this are ever
afterwards held in peculiar sanctity by their neighbours.
This spirit is very often seen in visions by Koreans during a
dream. He always appears as he is pictured in the portrait at the shrine or
as a tiger. Both these visions are omens of good luck and the Korean is
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delighted to have one. Many [page 45] are the curious stories they tell of
their encounters with these San Sin and of what followed. The Koreans
are great dreamers. I might say dreaming is a national pastime with them.
But among their dreams some of the most curious are concerning these
San Sin.
One of the best examples of a San Sin shrine is to be found in the
mountain fortress at the back of the city of Yon-an. Here I found a
well-built building with the portraits of many worthies who had perished
at various times in behalf of the city, especially in its historic defence
against the Japanese invaders of 1572. In front of the principal shrine was
a group of spears and tridents and in the floor a stone with a round hole.
When it was desired to know whether an offering was accepted or not a
spear was inserted in the hole in the stone, point up, and if the spear stood
upright it was regarded as propitious. It is needless to say that a little
dexterous twist of the spear would always ensure it remaining erect if the
shaman so wished.
Much more might be said about these Mountain Spirits. They are
the mountain gods of a mountaineer people, and a whole paper might be
taken up with the cult, the traditions and stories which pass current among
the people, the methods of invocation and exorcism, but enough has been
given to indicate the large place these San Sin fill in the Shaman
pantheon.
4. The Sun-ang Dang (城隍堂). This is the name of those heaps
of stones, or cairns, which attract the attention of all visitors to Korea. The
name is spelt in several ways. As pronounced by the people it is Sun-an
Dang, but it should be written as it is given by Mr. Gale in his dictionary,
viz. Sŭng-whang Dang. An analysis of this name gives us a hint of the
meaning of the altar. It is Sŭng (城), “wall, fortress, or city;” whang (隍),
“site or locality;” dang (堂), “temple, shrine or altar.” This would then
give us as a translation of the name Shrine or Temple of the Site of the
Fortress or City.
The altar or shrine consists of a heap of stones piled up beneath
some tree or clump of bushes. The stones are all of small size and are put
in place by votaries and passers-by. On the branches of the trees will be
found scraps of paper, [page 46] rags, cast-off garments, coins, locks of hair,
sometimes the effigies of human beings, or utensils used for the offerings.
These dangs are always found beside the road, sometimes down in the
plain or at the entrance to a village, but more often in the top of a defile
where the road takes its plunge over the crest of a ridge from one valley
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into another. Very often a small shanty is built alongside the cairn which
will contain a daub of a picture, ordinarily of some animal, but often of
the San Sin of the mountain. And sometimes these shrines become quite
pretentious, being built of good timber with tiled roof and a keeper
dwelling in a house beside it, while about it will stretch a grove of old
trees. Here in the hot summer days the Koreans will come with wine and
song and dance, to enjoy the grateful shade, drink of the cool springs close
by, and bow at the shrine. This cult of the Sun-ang is specially strong in
the Whang-hai province, though as already indicated it is much in
evidence everywhere throughout Korea.
The dang is not sacred to any one spirit but seems to belong to all
the local gods, and is a place where the people may meet and propitiate
them. They are the most important factors in the work of the Korean
shamans, but as this part of Korean life is peculiarly superstitious no
rational, coherent explanation of them can be obtained from the Koreans.
Here in the trees or among the stones the local gods are supposed to reside.
The tree at the shrine becomes sacred to them and is called the “Demon
Tree.” Here the protecting or tutelary spirit of the valley or defile holds
court assisted by the mountain spirits, a few hob-goblins, with some
“unclean devils” or sa-geui and such “tramp imps” or “deun-sin” as
have been permitted to rest there. Here their reign terrorizes or delights
the simple farmers about, sending weal or woe as they see fit.
The worship at the dang generally consists of an offering of food
by the person seeking a favour, with prostrations and prayers. The
common sight is a woman placing a few small bowls of rice on the stones
and then rubbing her hands together and lifting them to her face, and
while she bows or prostrates herself she whispers her petition. You listen.
She murmurs “Oh! Shrine of the Fortress! Listen I beg. [page 47] Our house
child is sick, and he will die. Hear us, Give life.” And so on until she
musters courage to gather up the offerings and take them back to the
house. This is a very common sight and thousands of Koreans are sent
every year to perform this at these shrines. The first fifteen days of each
new year are fortunate for petitions for a year of prosperity and freedom
from sickness and the dangs are specially popular at that time.
Travellers also address their petitions to the Sun-ang as they pass.
Many a time I have seen a Korean add a stone to the heap under a tree and
at the same time spit in front of the altar. This expectoration-feature is a
peculiar one in connection with the observances at the dang, and the only
explanation I have heard is that it is an observance in connection with the
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superstitions about snakes. The Koreans stand in dread of offending a

snake. They will rarely kill one, for they believe that if they do so the
spirit in the snake will follow them through life and work their final and
irretrievable ruin. So travellers, when they reach a dang, expectorate at it
in order to give any snake-spirit that may be there something to occupy
him until they are able to pass on out of view. This dread of a supposed
spirit in a snake and the fear of its wrath is curious. May it not be a faint
adumbration of the story which tells us that in the infancy of the human
race the arch-foe of man, finding the serpent more subtle than the other
beasts of the field, entered his body and in that disguise deceived our first
parents―this fear of the visible agent being rather a tribute of terror to the
one who once used the snake for his purposes?
Of the rags, strips of paper and various objects which catch the
eye at the dang there is generally a large variety. These are part of the
symbolism of Shamanism and belong to the same category as the fetiches
which play so important a part in the system. They are symbolic of the
desires of the petitioners at the shrine. The following will give you an idea
of their significance. A man goes to a mu-dang or female shaman to have
his fortune told and learns that the will surely die that year. He naturally
feels frightened and demands how he can ward off this calamity. He is
told to make an offering in sacrifice at the Sun-ang Dang and to [page 48]
hang upon the tree beside it the collar of his coat. This becomes a symbol
of himself and possibly there is a dim idea of substitution in it. The thread
and the longer strips of rags are generally placed there in behalf of
children and indicate a petition for long life. The coins are a sign of a
prayer for money. The coloured rags I am told usually indicate the prayers
of a bride, for the Koreans have a notion that when a bride leaves her
father’s house to go to her future home the household gods all try to go
with her. This would mean the speedy destruction of her father’s
household; so at the first dang on the way she pauses, petitions them to
come no further, and ties a strip of silk or cloth from her wedding outfit on
the tree, to which they may fasten themselves and hold it in her place.
Sometimes there will be other offerings such as salt, cotton, silk and
kindred objects. These may have been offered by merchants dealing in
these commodities.
5. The To-ji-ji-sin (土地之神). These are the Earth Spirits and
form an order by themselves. They differ from the Mountain Spirits or
San Sin in that while the latter represent and brood over the mountains as
such and are enshrouded in the awe which a Korean feels for the
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mountains, the Earth Spirits are simply the dwellers in that particular spot
on the mountain which the Korean wishes to use. These occupy a
prominent part in the funeral rites of the Koreans. They are supposed to be
the occupants of the grave site and must be propitiated before the corpse
can be laid to rest. This is done by a sacrificial offering resembling that to
the dead and is presided over by two persons, a Ché-gwan (祭官) or
“Sacrificer” and a Ch’uk-gwan (神官) or “Intoner,” who intones the ritual.
It will thus be seen that these “Spirits of the Soil” have really been
adopted into the Confucian worship of the dead from Shamanism.
6. The Chön-sin (尊神). In most hamlets and inhabited valleys
will be found a shrine called the Chön-dang or Honourable Temple. This
is the home of the Chön-sin or Tutelary Spirit of the village or group of
hamlets in the valley. In the vicinity of Seoul his shrine will contain a
portrait representing him in human form, always enshrined with great
reverence and ceremony. I have seen shrines to the [page 49] Chön-sin in
the country, however, where he was represented by a fetich consisting of a
straw booth erected over a pair of sandals, the whole standing under a
“demon tree.” He is in a special sense the community’s god as a
community, and the entire community is taxed by the local elders for the
support of the sacrifices and worship. It is at this point Christians come
into collision with their pagan neighbours. The latter are firm believers in
the power of the Chön-sin over their welfare as a community and make a
contribution to the worship at the shrine obligatory on all. To this the
conscience of the Christians will not permit them to consent, hence they
are treated as foes alike of gods and men. It is the old story of the conflicts
in the Roman Empire. I would say, however, that in recent years
non-Christian Koreans have become very concessive in this matter to their
believing neighbours and that time will remove all friction. The periodical
sacrifice at this temple is a very elaborate affair.
7. The Tok-gabi (魍魎). These are the goblins and bogies of
Korea. They are among the most universally known, feared and detested
inhabitants of the spirit-world. The superstitions about them make them
out to be a composite of the western ghost, Jack-o’-lantern, elf, brownie
and gnome, but probably the best rendering of the Korean name and idea
is that of goblin. They may be either spiritual in their origin or they may
have sprung from a human original. In the later case they are sprung from
a human original. In the later case they are supposed to be the souls of
men who have met a violent death. I investigated the case of a girl in
Chemulpo whom the Koreans said was demoniacally possessed and who
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claimed in her more lucid moments to be afflicted with goblins. The

mu-dang shamans undertook to exorcise her and to their incantations she
confessed that three goblins had her, one being the soul of a woman who
had been burned to death, the second that of a woman who had been
drowned and the third that of a man who had died by execution. This of
course explains only a part ot Korean goblindom, but to the Korean there
is nothing inconsistent in the fancy that a man thus ending his life
becomes a goblin. Thus it is that execution grounds, battle-fields, the
scenes of murder and fatal disaster, are thought to be haunted by them. In
this particular they are a counterpart of the western ghost. They [page 50]
always go in troops, however, and are impish in appearance and behaviour.
They are always represented as dwarfs and, like the fairies of old, can
assume different shapes in which to deceive men. They frequent secluded
glades and the banks of streams, and may be met under bridges and in
caves. Empty houses will always be occupied by them and once they get
in it is hard to get them out. The buildings that formerly stood in the old
Mulberry Palace enclosure here in Seoul were reputed to be thus haunted,
and frightful stories are still current among the people as to the scenes that
occurred there every night. They sometimes take a fancy to a house or a
village, and then life becomes unbearable for the unfortunate inhabitants. I
often pass a nook in the hills of Kang-wha where once stood a small
hamlet embowered in persimmon trees, but the goblins got after the
people and so terrorized them every night that they finally arose, tore
down their houses and moved to another place. A Christian once
described an experience he claimed to have had with the goblins and, as it
is typical of the goblin pranks Koreans describe, I give it. One night he
was asleep with his family, when suddenly they were all awakened in
terror by the sound of a terrible crash and roar as if a mighty wind had
struck the house. Every window and door seemed to be straining and
tearing out of its place; bowls and dishes were dashing about, and bedlam
seemed let loose. They thought a storm had come upon them, and they
fled outside only to find it beautiful and starry, not a breath of air stirring
or a sound to be heard. Then they knew what it meant, and committing
themselves to God they returned in fear and anxiety to the house again.
All seemed quiet and they thought the goblins were gone, when, just as
they were about to fall asleep again, the terrible crash was heard once
more and riot reigned. This time the Christian stood his ground and
instead of fleeing he and his family knelt and prayed to God, when the riot
ceased as suddenly as it began and they had peace from then on.
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I doubt not but that this Christian had some sort of experience
that night, though whether purely subjective or not I do not know, and the
exact facts are impossible to obtain. No Korean story ever loses in the
telling, and this is especially so of the Tok-gabi stories. But the account
above given [page 51] is thoroughly typical, and I venture to affirm that half
of the Koreans living in the country to-day would claim to have had some
sort of an experience like that. The goblin is up to all sorts of mischievous
pranks. The good house-wife goes to bed at night with the rice-kettle
cleaned and the lid on properly. The next morning she finds the lid in the
bottom of the kettle, and how it got there only the goblins can explain, for
no human ingenuity could jam an eight-inch iron lid through a six-inch
opening into an iron pot.
Once when destroying the fetiches belong to a convert I found
one of a goblin. I do not think it is common for the Koreans to keep a
goblin fetich, but this family had one. It consisted of a small straw booth
mounted on poles and contained a horse-hair hat, like that worn by chair
coolies, and a surplice such as is worn by yamen runners. These fetiches
were rotten with age, yet the insane fancy of Shamanism had led this
family to worship them and make offerings and prostrations to them for
years.
About the Tok-gabi centres much of the folk-lore of the people.
It may be said to divide with the rabbit and the frog the honours in the
folk-lore world. As a feature of Korean Shamanism it is of prime
importance and has its own superstitions and ritual of exorcism. A very
common belief in connection with the Tok-gabi is that the phosphorescent
lights seen about the marshes are the Tok-gabi on the move and the people
are invincible in this faith.
8. The Sa-geui (邪鬼) or Deun-sin (浮鬼). Among the many
classes of demons which hound the Koreans through life the Deun-sin or
Tramp Spirit is about the worst. They are also known as Sa-geui or
Unclean Demons, and the notion concerning then is that they are the
criminals of the Shamanic spirit-world and, having been cast out from
their original estate, are doomed to wander up and down through the earth
with no resting place. The Koreans picture them as the beggars of the
spirit-world, hopelessly ruined and lost and actuated in all they do by a
diabolical hatred of gods and men. Our translators of the Bible have
chosen a very fit word in this “sa-geui” as a rendition for the Scriptural
term “unclean spirit.” An incident will show the prevailing superstition
about them. Years ago during a visit to the distant city of [page 52] Weui-ju
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at the mouth of the Yalu, I was summoned one night to the house of a
woman who had met with an accident. It had been raining and the night
was very dark. I had not gone very far along the main street of the city
when I noticed a light in the distance in the middle of the road. On
arriving at it I saw a strange sight ― one I shall never forget. A woman
had spread some straw and a mat over the mud in the middle of the road,
set up a screen and placed a table loaded with food, fruit and nuts upon it,
and by it two lighted candles. She stood at the end of the mat, engaged in
bowing and prostrating herself, while out on the night air through the
darkness, rang the wail of her voice in prayer. I asked my Korean
companion the meaning of it, and he told me that the Koreans believe that
the Deun-sin frequent the air over the middle of the road and that they are
compelled by the other inhabitants of the spirit-world to wander up and
down until some faulty action on the part of a human being gives them a
foothold in his house. This opportunity they eagerly seize, and taking
possession of the man, all sorts of afflictions and trouble befall him. “In
that woman’s house,” continued he, “there is sickness. She has been told
by the mu-dang (female shaman) to propitiate the Deun-sin, so she is there
in the middle of the road, under that part of the sky where they are,
making her offering and gifts to them.”
The Deun-sin is popularly regarded as the spirit or god of
indigestion and persons suffering from a bad attack of this disease will
often seek relief by propitiating it.
In their treatment of these unclean spiritual tramps the mu-dang,
or female shamans, always propitiate and bribe them to depart; while the
pansu, or blind male shamans, exorcise and capture them with the aid of
the Chang-gun and Sin-jang or Spirit-Generals, and either set them adrift
over the middle of the road or bottle them up and bury them in disgrace
under the middle of the road.
9. The Yong (龍) or Yong-sin. The dragon is very well known
among the Koreans and is called a Yong. It is a water monster and has its
dwelling-place in deep pools and in wells, ponds and lakes and along the
river banks. This superstition concerning the dragon is probably as old as
the present dominant race in Korea, and was brought by them from [page
53] their ancestral home, which may have been somewhere in south-west
Asia. It is one of the most ancient of man’s childhood myths, and the fact
that it is the common property of the various races on earth is testimony to
the unity of mankind. We who come from the west with our superior
civilization are almost as familiar with this monster as the people of the
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east, and though we no longer credit it, yet there was a time when it held a
place in the popular beliefs of the white man. With the Aryan it has stood
forth as a foe or enemy, or, possibly more accurately, as the symbol of
disorder and destruction. The legends of Greece give it a place. Among
the seven mighty labours of Hercules the slaying of the dragon was one.
Other heroes, as Apollos and Perseus, were also dragon-slayers. The
Teutons also made out their god Thor to be a slayer of dragons, and even
in the legends of medieval Christianity the dragon has been adopted as a
symbol and we have St. George and St. Silvester as dragon-slayers. In this
latter case, Christian art has used its license of symbolism and the dragon
is used simply as a symbol of paganism or sin, and under the picture of the
saint slaying the dragon is set forth the conflict and triumph of
Christianity over paganism and sin,
Before the days of Christianity the dragon was a matter of belief
among our ancestors and the Saxons and Angles who invaded Britain bore
it as a device on their shields and banners. Among the Celts it was the
symbol of sovereignty, and Tennyson has shown a true historic sense in
giving it a prominent place in the “Coming of Arthur.” In this connection I
cannot resist the temptation to quote that scene which describes how the
two magicians, Bleys and Merlin, went to get the babe and the vision
which accompanied him. The poet tells us how they
‘Descending thro’ the dismal night ― a night
In which the bounds of heaven and earth were lost ―
Beheld, so high upon the dreary deeps
It seem’d in heaven, a ship, the shape thereof
A dragon wing’d, and all from stem to stern
Bright with a shining people on the decks,
And gone as soon as seen. And then the two
Dropt to the cove, and watch’d the great sea fall,
[page 54]
Wave after wave, each mightier than the last,
Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep
And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged
Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame;
And down the wave and in the flame was borne
A naked babe, and rode to Merlin’s feet,
Who stooped and caught the babe, and cried “The King!”
Here we have in this picture the sea, the storm, the dragon-shaped boat,
the flame and roaring, all attendant upon a royal babe destined to become
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a warrior, king and sage. It is but a poet’s fancy, and yet it is a curious
coincidence that in a land like Korea which holds to the dragon cult a
native writer would have dealt with a like event in an almost identical
manner. This fancy Tennyson maintains, making the dragons “the golden
dragon of Britain,” the emblem of Arthur’s kingship. And among the
Koreans he is the emblem of royalty. He is the imperial beast and in the
legendary origin of some of the dynasties he appears as a progenitor of the
royal line,
In the present-day mythological lore of the Korean shamans the
dragons are regarded as actual living beasts and earth, air, and sea as
inhabited by them. A practical illustration of this superstition may be
found in many of the cities, and sections of the country. Here in Seoul, if
you go out by the North-East Gate, you will find a place where the road
goes over a ridge of land and is paved with flat stones, the reason being
that this ridge is really a dragon’s backbone and that the scuffling of the
people’s feet over the monster’s back pained and angered him so that he
had to be encased in stone. Like the tok-gabi (goblin), the dragon is the
favourite theme of the story-tellers, and he is one of the stock features in
most Korean novels. He generally appears as the herald of the birth of
some marvellous child and all Koreans to-day regard a dream or a vision
of a dragon as an omen of the very best import. I think that most Koreans
believe in his actual existence and one in every ten Koreans you meet
anywhere in the land would probably declare that at some time in his life
he had seen a dragon.
The bulwarks of this fancy are the shamans. They foster the
belief in the dragon and make him an important part of their teachings.
They have a special ceremonial for propitiation [page 55] known as the
Yong-sin Kut (龍神), Dragon Service, and this is often performed in times
of drought. For the dragon when angry shuts up the sky and withholds the
rain. Sometimes death by drowning is attributed to the anger of the Yong
and then a private kut will be held by the relatives of the dead to appease
the monster. Thus this monster, part fish, part reptile, part bird and part
beast, inspires the Korean with fear and reverence. His is a favourite name
for Korean children and to him they are often sold. In selling children to
the Yong the parents will take the child to the well, or a river’s bank and
there, with offering and worship, dedicate him to the dragon. From that
time on the child, whether boy or girl, will be known as some kind of a
dragon. The large number of “dragon” children among the Koreans
indicates how popular is his worship.
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This finishes our review of the spirits who may be found at the
various shrines throughout Korea. We have selected only a few of the
more common ones and besides those we have mentioned there are
multitudes of others believed in and worshipped throughout the country.
The task of describing them would be an endless one.
But Shamanism comes much closer to the Korean than these
shrines about his towns and hamlets and along his roads. It enters his
home and surrounds him there with its fancies so that day and night he is
ever in the presence of the emblems of this spirit dominion. It is true we
find no “god-shelves” in the house, but the gods are there just the same,
and if you enter the house you will find that for a small mud hut the
average Korean house has an over-supply of supernatural occupants.
These household gods are a part of every Korean house, as much of the
aristocratic gentleman’s abode as of the lowborn coolie’s hut. While there
may be no “god-shelf” in a Korean house yet no Korean (unless he were a
Christian) would think of purchasing a house without first enquiring of the
owner the names and character of the “gods” of the house. For when a
Korean moves from one house to another he does not take his gods with
him but passes from the dominion of the gods of the house he has left to
that of the gods of the house to which he removes. This of course affects
the price of Christian houses in the rural districts, for they are not as [page
56] desirable for papan purchasers as those in which the house gods have
not been disturbed. A pagan having found out the gods or demons of the
house he has purchased will be careful to make offerings to them all, but
if for some unknown cause one of his family falls sick he will seek the
former owner and find out again the gods of the place and compare it with
his list so as to be sure he has not omitted one in his offerings. Among
these household lares of the Koreans the chief one is
10. The Söng-ju (成造). The Söng-ju is the ruler of the Korean’s
house, the spiritual major-domo of the entire establishment. His fetich is
enshrined on the frame of the house as soon as the beams are set up and
from that day he is lord of all who dwell within and their weal or woe is
subject to his whim. His fetich consists of blank sheets of paper and a
small bag of rice, which are hung from the ridge-beam of the principal
room ― generally the living-room of the house. This fetich is charged
with protecting the family from all misfortune and especially from
affliction at the hands of the demons. The Söng-ju is set up at the time of
the erection of the house after the following manner. After the site is
graded and the framework of the house erected, a pause is made in the
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construction until a lucky day can be found for enshrining the spirit.
Sheets of ordinary paper and a bag of rice containing as many spoonfuls
of rice as the owner is years old are fastened to the ridge and prayer and
worship offered. The construction of the house then continues until
completed, when another lucky day is selected and a mu-dang shaman is
called to preside. A Kut (賽神) or Grand Ceremony is held by her. A large
sacrifice of food is prepared and an elaborate ritual gone through with
until the mudang has worked herself up to the proper pitch of frenzy. She
then seizes a wand, called the Söng-ju wand, which enables her to seek
the Söng-ju, he having arrived by this time. When found he perches on the
wand and drags her back to the fetich, into which she introduces him by
violently shaking the stick and beating round about the fetich. He is
supposed now to feed on the feast for a time, after which the food is
passed out to the assembled guests who dispose of the material substance
of the feast, the Söng-ju contenting himself with the spiritual essence of it.
The Söng-ju thus becomes the chief protector [page 57] of the house and
every inmate lives in constant anxiety of offending him. The children are
carefully taught not to tread on the threshold, for that is treading on his
neck; and when a meal is eaten in the inner room all parties are careful so
to place their tables that they will not be eating facing the fetich. This
would anger him and cause him to afflict some member of the household.
The Söng-ju is worshipped each spring and autumn in common
with other household gods, the spring sacrifice being a petition for a year
of prosperity, and the autumn one being in the nature of a Thanksgiving or
Harvest Home Festival.
11. The T’ö-ju (土主). Ranking next to the Sung-ju in
importance is the T’ö-ju or Lord of the Site. This demon represents a
phase in that great system of Earth Spirits of which the San Sin, and
T’ö-ji-ji-sin are parts. The Koreans themselves can give no coherent
explanation of the spirit or his fetich, any more than that it is the custom to
have one. The fetich consists of a bundle of straw set up like a booth on
three sticks. It varies in height from one to three or four feet. Ordinarily
this is all, but sometimes they combine with it the Ö p-ju or God of Luck,
who is represented by a rice pot with some grain in it, so that the two
spirits conjoined make one fetich and are worshipped together. The fetich
of the T’ö-ju is not set up immediately after the erection of the house, but
on the occasion of celebrating the first great spirit fete afterward. It is then
set up in a clean spot back of the house.
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12. Ö p-ju (業主). This is the symbol of one of the cardinal

features of Shamanism, namely luck. As far as my study has gone I cannot
avoid the conclusion that the idea of blessing or grace, that is, the kindly
favour of the deity bestowed out of pure love and kindness on his children,
is not known. Shamanism does not rise to this high level, but remains
down on the lower level of luck and ill-luck as the chief good or evil
flowing from their deities. It is true that the Koreans have an expression
called the O Pok ― Five Blessings, viz. longevity, children, rank, wealth,
and a peaceful death, but that is a purely Confucian idea. Shamanism
concerns itself with luck and ill-luck. When all things go well, then the
spirits are bestowing luck on the family; when things go badly, luck has
been withdrawn and ill-luck takes its place. [page 58]
The Ö p-ju stands for this luck, fate or fortune of the family.
Sometimes there will be a house or shanty built for him, known as the
op-jip, or sometimes he will be confined to the fetich of the T’ö-ju as
above indicated. Ordinarily he has a fetich of his own consisting of a
straw booth like that of the T’ö-ju, but containing an earthen jar or pot
with rice, grain or beans in it, and sometimes a small stone. This fetich is
worshipped regularly, spring and autumn, and at other times as luck may
seem to demand.
One very interesting feature of this Ö p-ju is the idea of the
mascot, which is clearly held by the Koreans. The mascot in Korea is a
person or animal attached to the Ö p-ju, and through him to the family, and
is thought to bring good luck. There are a number of these mascots, as the
Ö p-ku-rŭngi or luck serpent; the öp-dă-a-ji or luck pig; the öp-jok-jă-bi or
luck weasel; the in-öp or luck-child. As a general thing this luck mascot is
not an actual tangible thing of flesh and bones, but an immaterial fancy or
form that haunts the house-holder’s dreams, visiting him in his sleep with
its promises of better things. Sometimes, however, in the case of a snake
or a weasel, it may become the actual beast itself, and the presence of a
snake at a Korean house is not at all an occasion for alarm but rather of
rejoicing and gladness. This question of sacred animals, however, comes
up properly under the animistic worship of Shamanism.
13. The Kŭl-ip (乞粒). If you look sharply about the entrance of
a Korean house you will generally find hanging in a dark corner, a bundle
consisting of an old cast-off sandal or two, some money on a string, a
coolie’s hat, an old head of a fish, etc. This is the fetich of the Kŭl-ip or
Messenger of the Gods of the House. He has charge of the outside
fortunes of the family and runs errands for the spirits. The hat is part of his
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costume; the shoes are for his journey, and the money and the
money-string is for his travelling funds.
14. The Mun-hö-ji-sin (門戶之神). This spirit guards the
entrance to the house and is a sort of a spiritual gateman. His fetich
consists of the hat and surplice of a yamen runner and hangs in the gate or
entrance.
15. The Yök-sin (疫神). This is the dreaded Ma-ma or Small-pox
God. It is the belief of the Koreans that small-pox [page 59] is a species of
demoniacal possession. In fact, a close study of their medical theories will
reveal the fact that they regard all disease as either demoniacal possession
or else due to demoniacal influence. And in this lies the great power of the
shamans. They are the real doctors of the land as far as practical purposes
go, and, though they do not deal in medicine, they are popularly regarded
as far more powerful agents in effecting a cure than the druggist or doctor.
A well-informed native literatus said to me that it is safe to estimate that
of all the money spent on sick folk in Korea seventy of eighty per cent
goes to the shamans.
The Ma-ma spirit is generally represented in the room of a sick
person by a clean mat upon which stands a small table carrying a bowl of
fresh, pure water. This remains during the period of the sickness and is not
removed until the disease leaves the patient. If at any time the disease
becomes dangerous the parents or relatives of the sick person will appear
before this table and take several mouthfuls of water, uttering a prayer
between each mouthful for the recovery of the patient. The same
ceremony may be observed at a well or a spring. The person afflicted with
a yök-sin is supposed to be peculiarly susceptible to the pains and
hardships of persons who come near him. Thus it is said that if
chair-coolies come inside the compound of a house where a person has the
small-pox, the patient will immediately complain of a pain over the
shoulders, although he may not know that there are any chair-coolies near
him.
16. The Chu-ong (除俑), Human Effigy. Each New Year the
Koreans manufacture out of straw effigies which they use to carry away
the bad luck of the house. You will find them all over the country thrown
out in the fields or along the roads. Often you will find a piece of money
tied to them. This is the bribe given to the effigy to carry away the
ill-fortune. The effigy is also used at other times in connection with
sickness, being clad in the garment of the sick person and bribed to carry
away the disease.
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17. The Sam Sin (三神). God of Nativity. This is a popular spirit
in most Korean households and is represented by a fetich consisting of a
gourd and a small bag of rice. It is supposed to preside over conception
and birth and to [page 60] determine the posterity of each household. It is
also supposed to determine sex, and mitigate or increase the pains of
childbirth. When a child is born into a Korean home the house is
immediately shut up to all visitors for a period varying from three to
twenty-one days. This is in honour of the Sam Sin and to exclude from his
sight all defiled persons such as mourners. Generally a straw rope is
stretched across the door to bar entrance. If this rope is decorated with red
peppers it indicates that the new-born child is a boy; if decorated with
pine-tree sprigs, that it is a girl.
These few notes will give some idea of the character of the
spirit-gods of Korean shamanism. They are a motley crew, a dismal
company. What must be the condition of mind and heart which continues
under their dominion and in their service? But this is the religion of the
Korean home and these gods are found in every house, not Christian, in
Korea. The Korean is born under their influence or even may think
himself to be their offspring or incarnation. He is consecrated to them in
childhood, grows up amid them and they remain in unbroken touch with
him from the moment he sees life until the clods cover him in his last long
sleep in the grave. They occupy every quarter of heaven and every foot of
earth. They lie in wait for him along the wayside, in the trees, on the rocks,
in the mountains, valleys and streams. They keep him under a constant
espionage day and night. Once I was compelled to travel through the night.
It was cold and dark and my coolies pushed on awed and silent. About
two o’clock in the morning a distant cock’s crow rang out clear and
distinct, when the men all drew a sigh of relief and murmured their
gratitude. On inquiry for the reason of this they told me that evil demons
cannot travel after cockcrow, so they felt safe then. It certainly must be a
most uncomfortable condition of mind in which he passes his days, for
they are all about him, they dance in front of him, follow behind him, fly
over his head and cry out against him from the earth. He has no refuge
from them even in his own house, for there they are plastered into or
pinned on the walls or tied to the beams. Their fetiches confront him in
the entrance, and there is a whole row of them back of the house. Their
ubiquity is an ugly travesty of the omnipresence of God.
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Volume II, part 1. 1902
[page 1]
Kang-Wha (江華)
By Rev. M. N. Trollope, M. A. [Mark Napier Trollope]
If you examine the western coast-line of Korea on the map, following it

upwards from its south-western extremity, you will find that for about two
hundred and fifty miles it runs in a generally northerly direction between
the meridians 126° and 127° E. of Greenwich. It then takes a sharp
right-angle turn to the west, protruding far into the Yellow Sea, before it
takes another northerly turn which carries it with a curve to the mouth of
the Ya-lu River. It is in the north-east angle of the gulf formed by this
sudden turn in the general direction of the coast-line that the island of
Kang-wha lies, barring the mouth of the Kyŭng Kang (京江) or Han Kang
(漢江), Seoul River or Han River, the higher reaches of which are so
familiar to residents in Seoul and the neighbourhood. On the south and
west Kang-wha is really exposed to the open sea, but for many miles in
both directions the surface of the sea and the line of the horizon are so
broken with numerous rocks and islands of varying size, as to create the
impression rather of a land-locked gulf and actually to render approach by
ship from the open sea a matter of considerable difficulty. On the north,
Kang-wha is separated from the mainland by an estuary a mile or more in
width, across which, in a due northerly direction, at a distance of some
twenty odd miles, stand up in striking array the peaks of Song-ak San
(松岳山), the guardian range of the ancient capital, Song-do (松都). On
the east, a narrow strait, hardly more than a couple of hundred yards wide
in its narrowest places, severs the island of Kang-wha from the mainland.
It is through this strait, infested with rocks and rapids and with a tide
rushing like a mill-race, that boats travelling from Chemulpo to Seoul
must first find their way before reaching the mouth of the Han Kang
proper, which debouches off the north-east angle of Kang-wha, and it is
across this strait that the ferries ply, [page 2] connecting the island with the
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Kang-Wha
high roads leading to Seoul, which lies at a distance of some thirty-five

miles (reckoned, however, by the Koreans as one hundred and twenty li)
in a south-easterly direction.
To those of us who (for our sins) had to travel much in
pre-railway days between Seoul and Chemulpo, the water-route through
these picturesque narrows became very familiar ― the roaring whirlpool
of Son-dol Mok (孫乭項) the halt at the ferry-towns of Kap-kot-chi (甲串)
or Wol-kot (月串) to pick up Kang-wha passengers; and on the west the
lofty hills and fertile plains of Kang-wha itself, hemmed in by a waterside
girdle of quaint old forts and ramparts. The narrowness of these straits,
coupled with the fact that for most of us Chemulpo was almost invariably
the terminus of our journeys, misled many into believing that the straits
themselves were but a continuation of the Han river and that the mouth of
the river itself was to be looked for at Chemulpo. The Koreans, however,
always refer to the water of these straits as “sea;” and indeed a glance at
the map will show that at the mouth of the Han as it would be to speak of
Dover being at the mouth of the Thames.
On the western, i.e., the Kang-wha, side of this strait, the coast is
defended by a line of old battlemented ramparts, some forty or fifty li in
length, stretching from the south-east to the north-east corner of the island,
and punctuated every mile or so with small round forts or towers. [*Those
which possessed a resident garrison and commanding officer are called chin (鎭),
and of these there are twelve. The remaining fifty odd are known as ton-dae
(墪臺) and were only garrisoned as need required. ]
These forts, indeed, to the number of some sixty or seventy, are
dotted all round the coast of the island, and not confined, like the
continuous rampart, to the eastern shore, which dominates the strait. They
appear to have been erected at different dates, but the greater number of
them are not more ancient than the early part of the reign of King
Suk-jong (肅宗大王), that is, the close of the seventeenth century. The old
rampart, however, on the eastern shore can boast a much greater antiquity
at least in its original inception, [page 3] than these detached forts. The
earliest notice I have found of it is the record of its erection in the year
1253, when King Ko-jong (高宗王) of the Ko-ryŭ dynasty, flying from
the face of O-go-dai Khan’s invading Mongols, removed his court and
capital from Song-do to Kang-wha. It has suffered much in the course of
its history, partly from the violence of invaders and partly from the
ravages of time, and as it has been often patched and repaired during the
last six and a half centuries, it is probable that little if any of the original
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Kang-Wha
structure remains. The rampart itself is constructed of heavy, uncemented

stones and averages some fifteen or twenty feet in height, or rather less,
while the battlements, which were added in 1742 under King Yŭng-jong
(英宗大王), the “Grand Monarque” of the present dynasty, are built of
brick-work, in professed imitation of the walls of Peking! The bricks are
very large and very hard and well cemented together; and, seeing what the
Koreans can do in this way, one is inclined to wonder that brick-work
does not play a larger part in their architecture. Here and there in the long
line of fortifications an old rusty cannon still remains to remind the
inhabitants of Kang-wha’s past military importance, but nearly all the
artillery has been removed, and forts, ramparts, guard-houses and barracks
are all now deserted and rapidly falling into decay.
Two points in this narrow strait on the east of Kang-wha call for
special remark before we leave this part of our subject; viz., Kwang-söng
and Kap-kot-chi, being the points at which the two chief ferries carry
passengers across the water en route from Kang-wha to Seoul, At
Kwang-söng (廣城) where the water-course makes a sudden zig-zag turn
between abrupt but not very lofty cliffs, near the southern entrance of the
strait, are to be found, close to the ferry, the forts rendered famous by the
American expedition of 1871; there also are the rapids and whirlpools
known to the Koreans by the name of Son-dol Mok (孫乭項) or the Strait
of Son-dol. A not very correct version of the story which has given rise to
this name appeared in one of the earlier volumes of the Korean Repository,
over the signature of Alexandis Poleax, but I believe the correct version to
run as follows:― On the occasion of one of the Mongol invasions which
harassed Korea some [page 4] six hundred years or more ago, the then king
(history has not preserved his name), flying from his foes took boat on the
eastern shore of Kang-wha, hoping to escape down these straits to the
open sea and there take refuge in some more remote island. The
boatman’s name was Son-dol. Misled by the land-locked appearance of
the water, caused by the sudden zig-zig turn at this point in the narrows,
and finding his boat whirling round and round in the grip of the eddy, the
king jumped to the conclusion that the treachery of his boatman had led
him into a cul de sac and hastily ordered Son-dol to be executed then and
there. A few minutes more and the rushing ebb-tide had carried the boat
through the “mok” or throat of the narrows into the open water near the
southern end of the strait, and the king saw too late that he had judged his
boatman over hastily. Sorry for his fault, the king is said to have ordered
the body to be honourably buried in a grave on the head-land overhanging
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Kang-Wha
the strait, and instituted yearly sacrifices to be paid there to the manes of
Son-dol. The grave is still pointed out and until recently there stood by it
one of those shrine-shanties which are such common objects in Korea,
with a picture of the deceased hero pasted on the wall as an object of
worship. The shrine appears to have tumbled down in recent years, but
rumour has it that year by year, on the twentieth day of the tenth moon,
which is the anniversary of Son-dol’s death, a boisterous whirlwind blows
though the “mok” which bears his name, and the passing boatman is fain
to pour a libation and breathe a prayer to the restless spirit of the dead.
Kap-kot-chi, the other point of interest, is some six or eight miles
further up, near the northern outlet of the strait, and two or three miles
south of the actual mouth of the Seoul river proper. Here, at the point
where the ferry crosses, a lofty hill, named Mun-su San (文殊山), rises to
a height of some 1,200 feet from the water’s edge on the mainland, and
comes so close to the answering cliffs of Kang-wha as to seem to threaten
to block the strait altogether. This hill on the mainland, fortified in 1693
as an outwork to the defences of Kang-wha, with a rampart fifteen li in
circumference, used to be reckoned for military purposes as belonging to
the government of the island, and was doubtless chiefly intended to be a
[page 5] defence to the Kap-kot-chi ferry, which lies at its foot and which
has been the scene of many a stirring event in Korean history from the
days of the Mongol invasions of the thirteenth century down to the year
1866, when Kap-kot-chi became the head-quarters of the French
expeditionary force, during the few days of its sojourn in Korean waters.
Situated thus at the mouth of the river leading to the present
capital, and guarding that part of the sea-coast which lies nearest to the old
capital of Song-do, it is not surprising that the island of Kang-wha should
bulk largely in the estimation of Koreans, or that it should have played a
prominent part in the history of the country during the past thousand years
― that is, since the establishment of the old Ko-ryŭ (高麗國) dynasty at
Song-do in A.D. 936. Before that date the country’s centre of political
gravity lay either further north, in the neighbourhood of P’yŭng-yang or
further south in the province of Chŭl-la (全羅道) Kyŭng-sang (慶尙道),
or Chung-jŭng (忠淸道). But for the last thousand years both its
geographical position and its natural features have made Kang-wha at
once the most suitable place of refuge for the royal family and the
government in days of trouble, the most suitable place of exile for
dethroned monarchs, inconvenient scions of royalty, and disgraced
ministers, as well as the first outpost to be attacked and the most important
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Kang-Wha
to be defended, in case of invasion by sea. Twice in the thirteenth century

was the capital shifted, under stress of foreign invasion, to our island
fortress, and with the notable exceptions of the terrible Japanese invasion
under Hideyoshi in 1592, and the China-Japan trouble of 1894-5, which
barely touched it, Kang-wha has felt the full force of nearly every foreign
expedition which has troubled the peace of the country during the past
seven or eight centuries, notably those of the Mongols in the thirteenth,
and of the Manchus in the seventeenth, centuries, of the French in 1866,
and of the Americans in 1871. Moreover, more than one monarch of the
present dynasty has visited Kang-wha for a longer or shorter period, and
King Chŭl-jong (哲宗大王), the predecessor of his present majesty on the
throne, was born in Kang-wha city in 1831, in a house which is still
pointed out, and was (I believe) living in retirement there when called to
the throne in 1849. Last, but not least, Kang-wha [page 6] island was the
scene of the brush between the Koreans and the Japanese which led to the
conclusion of the first treaty between Korea and Japan in 1876. The actual
signature of that treaty, the first of the series which has thrown open
Korea to the world, as well as the negotiations which preceded it, took
place in Kang-wha city itself. [*Kang-wha is pronounced Ko-kwa by the
Japanese.]
The island thus famous in Korean history has been known in the
course of ages by a variety of different names, the earliest being the
strange one of Kap-pi-ko-ch’a (甲比古次), the first syllable of which is
said by local antiquarians to be still preserved in the village name of
Kap-kot-chi (甲串), some going as far as even to aver that this name
would be more properly spelt Kap-ko-chi (甲古), an opinion in which I do
not concur. [*At least seven other of the forts which are dotted round the coast
of Kang-wha have this word KOT as the final syllable of their name. It is a pure
Korean word used to describe things strung together, like e.g. dried persimmons
on a stick, and may be intended to denote the idea of series. It is represented in
Chinese by the character (串), which is not, however, given its true sound. These
names are therefore hybrids ― half Chinese, half Korean. ]
However that may be, I think it is quite plain that such an
unmeaning medley of characters as Kap-pi-ko-ch’a cannot have a really
Chinese origin, but must represent an attempt to spell in Chinese
characters some purely aboriginal name, such as we are familiar with in
the Chinese rendering of Tartar names.
At some time under the Ko-gu-ryŭ (高句麗國) dynasty, which
may roughly be said to have lasted over the first seven hundred years of
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Kang-Wha
the Christian era, the island was first raised to the dignity of a prefecture
(郡) and its name was changed to Hyul-ku (穴口) or Cave-mouth, a name
which is still preserved in the lofty hill to the south-west of the present
city. Under the Sil-la (新羅國) dynasty it passed for a short time under the
name of Hă-gu (海口) or Sea-mouth; but on being raised to the rank of a
chin (鎭) or fortress, at the close of the eighth century A.D., recurred to its
old title of Hyul-ku, which it retained apparently until the removal of the
Ko-ryŭ capital hither in 1232. At this date it seems to have first received
its modern name of Kang-wha (江華), Glory of the River, with the
variations of Kang-do (江都), the River Capital, and [page 7] Sim-ju (深州),
or Sim-do (深都), the Waterside Prefecture or Capital, all of which are
occasionally still in use. Oddly enough, the natives at the present day
always mispronounce the name, as though it was written Kwang-hă, or
Sea of Light, a name which I cannot find it ever bore, though a notorious
king (光海主) of this name in the present dynasty, who was dethroned in
1623, spent the closing years of his life in banishment here.
The old native maps of Korea, like the productions of the
European map-makers of some three or four centuries ago, are remarkable
for their picturesqueness rather than for their accuracy in detail. Prominent
features, like the bigger hills, rivers and cities, and even the more
important buildings, are painted in with a generous brush, without much
sense of proportion and with little or no reference to mere questions of
longitude and latitude. The resultant effect is a sort of a cross between a
ground plan and a landscape in perspective. Smaller geographical details
disappear altogether, and convenient blank spaces are scrawled over with
a miscellany of legendary, historical and topographical information, which
a mere Keith Johnson would regard as sadly out of place. Such a map of
Kang-wha and environs, apparently about a hundred years old, now in my
possession, amidst a variety of miscellaneous notes, gives the length of
the island as seventy li from north to south and forty li from east to west
and in the Text-book of Korean Geography (大韓地誌), published in
recent years by the Education Department, I see it is reckoned a
measuring about one hundred li by fifty. That the Korean li is a very
elastic quantity, and judging from the naval charts published by the British
Admiralty in 1884-5 as the result of the latest French and English surveys
— though the southern and western shores of Kang-wha are not charted in
these — I should say that its greatest length from north to south is not
much more than twenty miles, its greatest width not more than ten or
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Kang-Wha
twelve. This would give the island of Kang-wha an area very much the
same as that of the Isle of Wight in the South of England.
Immediately to the north-west lies the considerable island of
Kyo-dong (喬洞島), which forms the seat of a separate magistracy and as
such falls outside the limits of my subject; [page 8] but of the other islands
to the south and west, several of which are fairly populous, twelve are
reckoned as forming part of the territory of Kang-wha. The most
important of these are Mo-eum To (煤音島), Por-eum To (乶音島),
Shin-yŭm (信島), Sal-sŭm (失島), Chang-bong (長峯), Chu-mun To
(注文島), and Tong-gŭm To (東檢島).
In its main geographical features, the island of Kang-wha may be
not inaptly compared to a gridiron, being crossed from west to east by
four striking and clearly defined parallel ranges of mountains, the highest
peaks being in each case on the western side of the island and the ranges
gradually sinking in height and ramifying into a number of lower ridges as
they approach the eastern shore. The southernmost range, which is also
the most considerable — the highest peaks running up, I suppose, to a
height of two thousand feet or so — consists of the twin hills of Ma-ri San
(摩尼山), and Kil-sang San (吉祥山); and it is on an outlying spur of this
range, known as Chŭng-jok San (鼎足山), or Cauldron-foot Hill, from its
supposed resemblance to a Korean sot or cauldron, lying with its feet in
the air, that the famous fortified monastery of Chŭn-dŭng Sa is built. Next
to this, in a northerly direction, is the range of Chin-gang San (鎭江山),
one of whose eastern feet, thrust into the straits described above, causes
the rapids of Son-dol Mok. [*Just at the back of Son-dol Mok is a not very
lofty but curiously conical peak known as Tae-mo San, which plays an important
part in local geomancy.] Further north again the twin peaks of the Hyul-ku
San (穴口山) and Ko-ryŭ San (高麗山) form but a single range, [*A
considerable protrusion is formed in the western coast-line of the island by a
branch running westward out of this range, of which the highest peak is known as
Mang San.] the eastern arms of which embrace the present city of
Kang-wha, and run down to the straits at Kap-kot-chi, to meet the
answering range of Mun-su San (文殊山), on the mainland. And
northernmost of all comes the range containing the peaks of Pyŭl-ip San
(別立山), from which was quarried the original altar-stone for the late
queen’s tomb, and Pong-du San (鳳頭山), which is surmounted by a
famous landmark in the shape of one of Tan-gun’s altars to heaven. Each
of these ranges is divided from its neighbour by a broad and fertile valley
running right across the island from east to west, and the bulk of the
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Kang-Wha
agriculture which forms the staple [page 9] industry of the greater part of
the inhabitants is carried on in the broad floor of these valleys and of the
“combes” that branch out of them. The villages and farmsteads in which
the farming population dwell are for the most part grouped and dotted
about in the little hollows at the foot of the hills along either side of the
valleys; for, trying as the people find the heat in summer, the really
serious business of life with a Korean is, I take it, to protect himself from
the cold of winter. You will ordinarily find, therefore, both here and
elsewhere, the dwellings of the country folk snugly tucked away in the
little gullies or “combes” at the foot of the hills, where they stand the best
chance of securing shelter from the dreaded Haneui Faram or north-west
wind. And I venture to suggest that this arrangement (which, by the way
gives the country districts a very deserted aspect when viewed from any
distance) explains the common use of the word tong (洞)[*According to
Williams, this character was so used in China under the Ming dynasty; and in the
French Corean Dictionary the two characters above mentioned are given as the
equivalent of 동녘.] for a residential district in Korea, and supplies the true
etymology of the common Korean word for a village or hamlet ― viz.,
the tong-nă (洞內), that which lies in the tong or gulley. No Korean would
ever think of building his house on an unprotected ridge-top, if he could
avoid it.
A good deal of the land at the mouths of these valleys, which is
now devoted to agriculture, has been, during the last two hundred and fifty
years, reclaimed from the sea, which used to wash in and out with every
tide, by the building of heavy dykes (隄堰) and earthworks, a work of no
little labour and of much more service to the state than the erection of the
useless ramparts and fortifications which abound on every side. Ma-ri San
is said to have been an island previous to the erection of the dykes which
abut upon it. North, south, east and west of Kang-wha, there are nearly a
dozen of these sea-dykes, some of which are of considerable length. In
one case, on the east shore at Hoa Do (花島水門), the outlet left for the
escape of the land-water is crossed by a lofty and massive bridge, built (in
1766) of huge blocks of squared granite, which is now, however,
unhappily in a very ruinous state. The land thus reclaimed and saved for
agriculture must amount in all [page 10] to hundreds of acres, which but for
the erection of these dykes, would consist wholly of mud-flats, washed
over by the salt water at every spring-tide.
Considerably north of the centre of the island and nearer the east
than the west coast, stands the present walled city (pu 府 or eup 邑) of
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Kang-Wha
Kang-wha, a not very numerous or imposing collection of houses chiefly

straw-thatched. Hugged by the eastern arms of Hyul-gu San and Ko-ryŭ
San, the town is, however, in its small way a miniature edition of Seoul,
with a beautifully wooded Nam San (known also as Hoa San, 花山, and
Puk Ak, called also Song-ak San, 松岳山, in imitation of the Song-do
hills) of its own, with a battlemented city-wall some fifteen li in
circumference, four pavilioned city gates, a bell and bell-kiosk, and a
number of other public buildings, chief among which stands the yamen
(more commonly called here the yŭng-mun, (府尹). The city also boasts a
small garrison, consisting of the Sim Tă (沈隊), or Kang-wha regiment, a
force of 300 men, chiefly recruited from Kang-wha itself; while the
market held here on the 2nd, 7th, 12th, 17th, 22nd and 27th of every moon
draws country folk by the thousand from every corner of Kang-wha itself,
as well as from the neighbouring islands and mainland.
But the catastrophic year 1894 (Kap-o-nyŭn 甲午年), which was

fatal to so many of the old institutions of Korea, did much to diminish the
ancient glory of Kang-wha.
For two hundred and sixty years previous to that date, Kang-wha
had been reckoned, with Song-do, Kwang-ju (i.e. Nam Han), Su-won, and
Ch’un-ch’un, as one of the O To (五都) or Five Citadels, on which the
safety of Seoul depended. As such it was like them governed by a Yu-su
(留守), who ranked as one of the highest officials in the kingdom, assisted
by a lieutenant civil governor, known as the Kyŭng-yok (經歷) or
P’an-gwan (判官), and a lieutenant military governor, known as the
Chung-gun (中軍), with a staff of civil and military officials, which must
have amounted to nearly a thousand persons in all, with a garrison of
something like ten thousand troops, though it is not to be supposed that
anything [page 11] like all this number remained constantly under arms,
[*Presumably the presence of so many officials and soldiers accounts for the
disproportion between males and females in the census figures given on the old
map referred to above. At that date (about eighty to a hundred years ago) the
population was reckoned as slightly over 34,000, of whom nearly 19,000 were
males and not much more than 15,000 females.] A good deal of this power and
authority was owing to the fact that the Yu-su for the time being, for many
years during the period named, held ex officio also the offices of Chin-mu
Sa (鎭撫使) or Military Commandant and Sam-to T’ong-o Sa
(三道統禦使) or Lord High Admiral of the three Provinces, which
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Kang-Wha
saddled him with a heavy military and naval command, including the
coast defense of the three provinces of Ch’ung-ch’ŭng (忠淸道),
Kyŭng-geui (京畿道), and Whang-hă (黃海道) To assist him in the
fulfilment of these various duties, tribute grain to the amount of some
13,000 bags yearly was stored in the capacious government granaries in
the city and elsewhere.
But the changes in modern warfare have largely robbed
Kang-wha of its military importance. Enemies who want to strike at the
heart of the country find an easier road to Seoul overland from Chemulpo,
and it is realized that even Kang-wha, with all its natural advantages,
would never, under existing circumstances, afford much safety as a place
of refuge for the king and his government in times of danger. And so,
since the general reconstitution of affairs in 1894-95, Kang-wha, deprived
of these adventitious aids to its importance, has had to be content to take a
lower place among the towns and cities of Korea. For a few months
indeed, in 1895, it was governed like any common kol by a more Kun-su
(郡守), but since 1896 the governor of Kang-wha has shared with the
governors of the other more important places in the country the
honourable title of Pu-yun (府尹), which indeed his predecessors had
enjoyed in days of yore, until King In-cho (仁祖大王), raised them to the
rank of Yu-su in 1628.
One office of importance the Pu-yun of Kang-hwa still retains ―
to wit, that of guardian to the records of the present dynasty. These
records are preserved in quintuplicate, the other four copies being stored
in other places of security elsewhere in Korea. The Sa-ko (史庫), or
Record House of Kang-wha, however, is not in Kang-wha city but in the
grounds of [page 12] the monastery of Chun-deung Sa on Chun-ch’ok San,
at the southern end of the island, whither the governor has to make
periodical visits to see that the records are properly aired and otherwise
cared for. [*I have found frequent mention in the records of repairs to the Sa-ko
or Record House but none of its original erection. In 1638 an edict was issued
ordering the restoration of forty-seven volumes of records which had been lost
(during the Ho-ran)]
Still, although the Pu-yun of Kang-wha still ranks high among
the prefects of Korea, the yamen is sadly shorn of its former glory, the
staff of secretaries, etc., being numbered by tens where it used to be
numbered by hundreds, and the garrison troops by hundreds instead of
thousands, while the empty and ruinous public buildings, for which there
is no further use, present a sad picture of decay, which is apt to give a
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Kang-Wha
rather false impression. For Kang-wha, though deprived of these extrinsic

and factitious aids to its importance, still remains the centre of
government and commerce for an extensive and fertile district supporting
a population of certainly not less than 30,000 souls.
One might have supposed that a town of the antiquity and
historical importance of Kang-wha would have preserved many
interesting monuments of the past. But monuments, in a land where the
most usual material for architecture is timber rather than brick or stone,
have a way of not lasting. Moreover, Kang-wha city has within the last
two hundred and seventy years suffered from two terrible catastrophes,
which made a pretty clean sweep of what there was in the place. Each of
these will claim our attention later on. Here let is suffice to say that in the
terrible Ho-ran (胡亂) or Manchu invasion of 1636-37, the city was
practically razed to the ground by the invaders; and again in 1866, the
French expedition, under Admiral Roze, burnt the greater part of the town
to the ground, including the old palace, which has never been rebuilt, and
most of the other public buildings, while anything of interest that was
sufficiently portable naturally disappeared in the way of loot. [*One would
like to know what happened to the contents of the splendid library of Kang-wha,
which Pere Dallet describes from the notes of Mgr. Ridel on page 579 of history.
Were the books (e.g. the ancient history of Korea in sixty volumes) removed to
the National Library of Paris? The Kyu-chang Oi-gak, a branch of the royal
library in Seoul, was apparently established there in 1781.]
The city bell itself had a narrow escape, its captors only [page 13]
finally abandoning it in the middle of the road, after carrying if half way
to Kap-kot-chi, where their boats awaited them.
The city does not seem to have always occupied its present site.
Indeed at one period, under the Ko-ryŭ dynasty, there appears to have
been two eup (下陰縣 and 鎭江縣) or centres of government on the
island, one at Ha-eum, about ten li to the north-west, [*These were first set
up by king Heu-joug of Ko-ryu in 1038 A.D.] and one on the southern slope
of Chin-gang San, some thirty or forty li to the south of the present city.
But when King Ko-jong, of the Ko-ryŭ dynasty, established his capital
here in A.D. 1232, the city would seem to have occupied a site, which, at
any rate, included that of the present town, though its extent was probably
much greater and the walls did not run on the same lines as the present
ones. North south, east and west of the existing city are numerous mounds
and embankments, surrounded by sherds of broken tile and other tokens of
the existence of houses; and these are doubtless relics of these earlier
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Kang-Wha
fortifications, the memory of which is also kept alive in village names,

such as West Gate Village (四門洞), Great Gate Village (大門洞), Stone
Rampart Village (石城洞) and the like, at distances of some ten or fifiteen
li from the present town. But I have not myself been able to trace any
consistent plan from these remains, nor does there seem to be any uniform
and reliable tradition on the point among the inhabitants. The present city
walls were only built in 1676 and 1710, to replace those destroyed by the
Manchus in 1637, and they certainly do not follow the same line as those
which preceded them. For instance, it is known that the old South Gate, at
the time of the invasion, stood close by the present bell-kiosk, and to this
day a ridge in the middle of the city just above this point is known as the
Sŭng-maro (城嶺) or Rampart Ridge.
Of the public buildings which adorn, or adorned, the town, of
course the most important were the royal palaces. That inhabited by the
Ko-ryŭ kings covered a large space of ground on and around the small hill
which lies between the present East and South Gates and which is known
by the name of Chong-ja San (亭子山) or Kyŭn-ja San (見子山). There
[page 14] is a record of a great fire here in A.D. 1246, which destroyed
eight hundred houses, besides the palace buildings and a Buddhist temple
known as Pŭp-wang Sa (法王寺). Whether this palace was rebuilt I do not
know. That which, from time to time, in later years formed the residence
of kings of the present dynasty was known as the Hăng-gung (行宮) and
occupied a site on the slopes of the North Hill behind the present yamen.
This was burnt down by the French troops in 1866, [*This was probably the
first acquaintance made by Koreans with petroleum. After the French had gone,
those of the inhabitants (they were not many) who had not fled, recounted with
awe how the Yang-ju had thrown water on the buildings and them set fire to
them.] and there is nothing left to shew its site but the remains of terraces
and foundations on the hill-side, with two stone tablets, set up in
enclosures, to mark the position of two of the chief pavilions or halls,
known respectively as the Man-yŭng Chŭn (萬寧殿) and the Chang-yŭng
Chŭn (長寧殿). Besides the Pu-yun’s yamen with the handsome Kăk Sa
(客舍), or Royal Tablet House, attached, and the numerous smaller
yamens, many of which are being pulled down or falling into decay, there
are now no public buildings of any importance in the town, except a large
public granary of no great antiquity and now deserted, and an equally
large and modern barrack, now occupied by the soldiers of the Kang-wha
regiment, the bell-kiosk, the Confucian temple and one or two smaller
temples and tablet houses. Among the temples, is the usual Sa-jik Tang
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Kang-Wha
(社稷堂) or Temple to the Spirits of the Earth and Grain and there are also
three small temples to the God of War (關廟), the erection of which
probably dates from the temporary revival of his cult twenty years ago.
The tablet houses (碑閣) chiefly contain tablets (mostly of stone, but some
of metal) commemorating the virtues of past governors. But the only one
of real importance is that erected to the memory of the patriot known as
the Sŭn-won Sŭn-săng (仙源先生), one of the victims of the Ho-ran of
1637, which stands immediately opposite the bell, and to which I shall
have to refer again. But of the other buildings none need delay us except
the bell-kiosk (鐘閣) and the Confucian temple. The bell which hangs in
the former has an inscription in Chinese, much defaced, running round its
waist, the most [page 15] legible part, which is twice repeated, stating that it
was recast in the fiftieth year of the Emperor Kang-heui (康熙) (i.e. A.D.
1712) on Ch’ung-ch’ok San at the southern end of Kang-wha, and that the
old bell, a much smaller one, was then broken up and thrown into the
melting pot, with a large quantity of new metal, making the total weight of
the present bell 6,520 keun (斤), which I suppose we may reckon at
something like 9,000 lbs. or nearly four tons avoirdupois. This was the
bell which the French attempted to carry away. The Mun-myo (文廟) or
Hyang-gyo (鄕校), Confucian Temple, which occupies a very retired
position at the end of the valley inside the walls between the North and
West Gates, consists of the usual Tă-sŭng Chŭn (大成殿), or shrines
containing the tablets of Confucius and his chief disciples, with subsidiary
shrines for canonized Korean scholars, to the right and left of the
courtyard in front of the main temple, and the equally usual Myŭng-yun
Tang (明倫堂) or Hall or Expounding the Social Relations, which is now
in a very decrepit and neglected state. The Confucian temple, which,
probably owing to its retired position, almost alone of the public buildings
escaped destruction by the French in 1866, has occupied three or four
different sites in the city at different times; and under stress of the Mongol
invasion it is said that the tablets were once all removed for safety to a
neighbouring island, a tradition which is supported by the fact that much
of the glebe owned by the temple is situated in the island in question.
For purposes of administration, the island of Kang-wha is
divided into seventeen myŭn (面) or parishes, of which the city counts as
one, and these are subdivided into one hundred and sixteen hamlets or
tong-nă, of which twelve are either inside or close outside the city walls
and are included in the Pu-nă Myŭn (府內面) or city parish. The number
of houses in the whole island is reckoned for taxation purposes roughly at
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Kang-Wha
8,000, which, if we allow the moderate estimate of four souls to a house,

will give a total population of over 30,000. And this figure I have other
grounds also for believing to be substantially correct. With regard to the
occupation and character of the people, an old verse, in some respects too
severe and in others now obsolete, sums them up as follows:-
信安吏民弓耕
鬼土校物馬織
好重豪蚩是要
巫利競貿尙務
‘Ploughing and weaving for work; shooting with the bow and riding for
[page 16] sport; the people are boorish and unpolished, the petty officials
quarrelsome and overbearing; fond of staying at home and keen on a good
bargain, they are great believers in spirits and devoted to wizards’. Of the
greater part of the population, as I have already said, agriculture forms the
staple industry. Of course, inside the city there is a considerable number
of small merchants and shop-keepers, besides a small semi-literate class
chiefly confined to a few families, which have for generations supplied
candidates for the clerkships and inferior offices at the yamen, while in
the waterside village not a few depend for their livelihood on their
saltpans and on their boats, which seem, however, to be much more used
for purposes of carriage than for fishing. And throughout the country
districts, there is a fair sprinkling of literati, country gentlemen and retired
officials, of whom one at least has built himself a magnificent house,
though he has never yet occupied it. But the bulk of the country folk are
farmers and I suppose it is still true that the farmer’s wives do a good deal
in the way of weaving mu-myŭng (무명) or the coarse linen of the country.
If, however, one leaves out of count one or two small pottery works for
the production of the roughest kind of earthenware crocks, and one or two
small smelting furnaces for the founding of common iron articles, like
cauldrons, hoes, plough-shares and the like, Kang-wha can really be said
to boast no special industries, outside its stone quarries and its
mat-making. A great portion of the granite work used in the erection of
public buildings, the adornment of graves, etc., in the neighbourhood of
Seoul and elsewhere, comes from Kang-wha, and the inhabitants of one
large village, Kon-teul (乾坪), on the west coast, are almost exclusively
occupied in stonemason’s work, though the finer kinds of stone are not to
be looked for in Kang-wha itself, but on the neighbouring island of
Mă-eum To (煤音島), across a narrow strait on the west. The making of
the ordinary reed mats, which are such common objects in Korean [page 17]
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Kang-Wha
houses, is not of course confined to Kang-wha, and is largely an ordinary

winter occupation with the farming class. But the manufacture of the finer
kind of reed mats, and the insertion of the coloured pattern, which is a
distinguishing feature of the Kang-wha article, is a distinct industry. Some
of you may have seen very fine and large specimens of these in the palace
buildings in Seoul. But these large mats are specially made on looms
constructed for the purpose to be sent up as gifts or tribute to His Majesty,
and are not easily met with as objects of common purchase. A much finer
and more durable and, to my mind, prettier though smaller, style of mat is
made in the neighbouring island of Kyo-dong.
One industry, that of horse-breeding, for which Kang-wha was
famous in the past, has entirely died out within the last two centuries,
though it was kept up until within the last few years on the neighbouring
islands of Chang-bong and Mă-eum To, under the superintendence of one
of the petty military officials of Kang-wha. Now there is hardly a horse in
the place, but the memory of the horse-corrals (馬場) which formerly
existed there is still preserved in the names of some of the villages in the
neighbourhood of Chin-gang San, e.g., Ma-jang Tong (馬場洞),
Chang-du Tong (場頭洞) and Chang-ha Tong (場下洞). And there is
more than one story in the old records told in illustration of the excellence
of the Kang-wha breed, the fame of which spread over to China.
The eight fine steeds which graced the stables of T’ă-jo Tă-wang
(太祖大王), the founder of the present dynasty, are said to have come
from here; and we are told that when King Hyo-jong (孝宗大王), who
had been carried captive to Manchuria after the Ho-ran of 1637, was
released on the death of his father and allowed to return to Korea to take
up the reins of government, the Emperor Sun-ch’i (順治) gave him from
his own stables a horse bred in the Chin-gang corrals to carry him back
home. But at the crossing of the Yalu, doubtless excited by the scent of his
native air, the horse at one bound freed himself from his royal rider and
attendants and was never seen again, “whereby you may learn,” says the
historian with a gravity worthy of Herodotus, “that [page 18] the horse was
surely of supernatural breed.” The same king had another favourite and
more famous horse, named Pŭl-tă-ch’ong (伐大聽), in his royal stables, so
famous, indeed, that his birthplace in marked in the old native maps. The
story goes that this horse, when periodically turned out to grass in
Kang-wha, was able to tell when he would be wanted for a royal
procession, and used to trot off to Seoul on his own account! So fond was
the king of his steed, that he is said to have threatened to slay the first man
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Kang-Wha
who brought him the news of Pŭl-tă-ch’ong’s death. The story goes that,
on one of his return journeys to Kang-wha, the horse fell ill and died at
Yang-ch’un (陽川) on the road. The magistrate of the district repaired to
the palace and sought an interview with the king. “I regret, Sir,” said he,
“to have to report that Pŭl-tă-ch’ong has been taken ill in Yang ch’ŭn and
has eaten nothing for the last three days!” “Pŭl-tă-ch’ong is dead! Out
with the truth,” thundered the monarch. “Quite true, Your Majesty,”
replied the wily courtier; “but it was Your Majesty and not I who uttered
the fatal words first.” All which of course is foolishness, but serves to
emphasize the fact that Kang-wha did once possess a horse-breeding
industry and a famous breed of horses.
To return to our geography. Outside the city of Kang-wha the
most famous place in the island is the fortified Buddhist monastery of
Chun-deung Sa (傳燈寺), distant some thirty li south. The grounds of the
monastery are beautifully situated in a thickly-wooded, crater-like hollow,
which occupies the crest of a hill known, as already stated, as Chung-jok
San (鼎足山) or Cauldron-foot Hill, from its supposed resemblance to a
Korean sot lying with its feet in the air. The grounds are surrounded by a
battlemented stone rampart, similar to the city wall, with a circumference
of five li, and within this is enclosed, besides the monastery and one or
two smaller buildings, the Sa Ko or Record-house already mentioned. The
tradition is that the rampart was built in pre-historic times by the three
sons of Tan-gun (檀君), their sister aiding them by collecting the stones in
her apron! Hence it is sometimes known by the alternative title of the Sam
Nang San-sŭng (三郞山城) or the Fortress of the Three Youths. The
monastery itself is known by the name [page 19] of Chan-deung Sa, The
Temple of Transmission of the Lamp, not apparently with any reference to
the mystic handing down of the lamp of truth, but with a more prosaic
reference to a certain jade lamp of great value (now lost) presented to the
temple by Queen Chong-wha (貞和), the consort of King Ch’ung-yol
(忠烈王), who reigned over Ko-ryŭ at the close of the thirteenth century
A.D. The date of the first foundation of a Buddhist temple here is
unknown; but there are said to have been no less than three temples,
which had perished one after another on the present site, before the
present monastery was built in 1266. A few years later we are told that the
same Queen Chong-wha sent the monk In-geui (印奇) to China for
Buddhist books and that he brought back with him a copy of the Tă-jang
Kyŭng (大藏經) or Tripitaka, which was preserved here. The monks of
this monastery, as well as of two smaller ones in Kang-wha, were until
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Kang-Wha
recent years in receipt of government pay, and enjoyed, like the monks of
Puk-han and elsewhere, a semi-military rank as Seung-gun (僧軍), being
charged with the defence of the fortress. In recent years the monastery has
become most famous as the scene of the reverse suffered by the French
troops in 1866, which has been so graphically described by Pere Dallet in
the pages of his admirable Histoire de l’Eglise de Corée. [*Vol. ii. pp.
576-577.]
Besides Chun-deung Sa there are in Kang-wha nine other small
Buddhist monasteries, or, to speak more correctly, seven in Kang-wha
itself and two others which are reckoned as belonging to Kang-wha,
though they stand just outside its limits ― one, called Mun-su Sa (文殊寺)
or the Hill Fortress, on the mainland opposite Kap-kot-chi, and the other,
known as Po-mun Sa (普門寺), on the neighbouring island of Mă-eum To.
This last is celebrated for its wild rock scenery and for a naturally formed
rock-temple or grotto in the side of the hill on which it stands. Of the
others the only ones which are of any note are the three known
respectively as the Temples of the White (白蓮寺), the Red (赤蓮寺), and
the Blue Lotus (靑蓮寺) which stand on Ko-ryŭ San to the west of the city.
These are said to owe their foundation to the fact that “once upon a time”
a famous monk in far Thibet cast into the air five lotus blooms of five
different colours, [page 20] with the prayer or the prophecy that where each
fell should rise a temple to Buddha. Three at least are said to have been
wafted as far as Kang-wha and to have fallen on Ko-ryŭ San and so led to
the erection of these three temples. On the crest of the hills, too, are the
marks of five old wells, of which it is said that each in days of yore was
wont to produce a lotus of different colour. Moreover, the water of those
wells was good and whosoever drank thereof became endowed with
supernatural strength, which thing, when the Ho-in perceived, during the
Ho-ran of 1637, they marched to the top of the hill and pouring in molten
metal thereby effectually stopped both the flow of the water and the
growth of the lotuses. Of these three monasteries, the Red Lotus Temple
(commonly known as Chŭk-sok Sa (積石寺), which is the least accessible,
is noted as having formed the retreat during the Ho-ran of King In-jo’s
aunt, the Princess Chong-myŭng (貞明公主), whose portrait was long
preserved there. This temple escaped destruction at that time but about a
hundred years later was burnt to the ground and subsequently rebuilt.
There is a fine view of the western sea from the crest of the hill
near the monastery and the sunsets seen from here rank among the ten
“sights” of Kang-wha (沁州十景).
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Kang-Wha
As Kang-wha played such a prominent part during the last

hundred and fifty years of the priest-ridden dynasty of Ko-ryŭ, it is not
surprising that Buddhism has left its mark here. Besides the monasteries
and temples already mentioned, the memory of many others which have
long since perished is still preserved in ancient records and of yet others in
the names of villages and districts of the island. One of the seventeen
myŭn, into which the island is divided, is known by the name Pul-eun or
(佛思) “Mercies of Buddha,” while yet other two are known by the names
Sŭ-sa (四寺) and Puk-sa (北寺), the Western and Northern Temples,
though there are, I believe, no temples there now. Again another small
village, between Kap-kot-chi and the city, is locally known by the curious
name of Mŭk-chul (墨寺洞, now known as 萬壽洞) or Ink Temple. And
at the foot of Pong du Sa, some five miles north, west of the city, is an old
weather-beaten granite pagoda, standing some twenty feet high, and in the
adjoining valley, a bas-relief of Buddha, some ten feet high, [page 21]
carved on a rock protruding from the hill side and this in a spot where
there is no record or tradition even of a monastery having ever existed
Lastly, in Kang-wha, as is so frequently the case elsewhere in Korea, the
names of the hills shew a Buddhist influence. Mun-su (文殊), which gives
its name to the hill and temple opposite Kap-kot-chi, is the Chinese name
of the famous Bodhisaton Mandjusri, and Ma-ri (摩尼) or Ma-ni, the
name of the great hill in the south of the island, is none other than the
Thibetan word for jewel, so familiar in the invocation, Om Ma-ni Pad-me
ham!
Of the present influence of Buddhism in Kang-wha, there is
nothing more to be said than of its influence elsewhere in Korea, and that
influence may, I think, be fairly described as amounting to nil. One only
wonders how and why in its decrepit state it continues to exist.
Before passing on to speak of a few of the chief historic events,
which help to make our island famous, a word must be said as to one or
two pre-historic monuments which Kang-wha boasts. Most ancient of all,
I suppose, is the dolmen or cromlech, known to Koreans as the Ko-in Tol
or Propped Stone. This stands in the open country about an hour’s walk to
the north-west of the city, and is strangely similar to the cromlechs and
dolmens which are such common objects in the Celtic parts of France and
England, e.g., Brittany and Cornwall.
The top or roof stone here is a single block of irregular shape,
measuring some three or four feet thick, twenty-one feet long and eighteen
feet broad, supported at a height of about six feet from the ground by two
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Kang-Wha
long slabs of stone some fifteen feet in length, which form, as it were, the
side walls of the house. The chamber thus formed is open at the ends and
measures about three feet long and six feet high, and, roughly speaking,
points W.S.W. and E.N.E. Scattered about in the neighbourhood are a few
other apparently megalithic remains, and a smaller but perfect cromlech is
also to be found not far from the roadside, about half way between the city
and the Ko-in Tol, which is however, far larger and more remarkable than
any of the others. As the origin and use of these and similar “Druidical”
remains in the West, and the means by which they were erected, have
been for [page 22] centuries moot points among European antiquaries, and
as I have no views on the subject, I do not propose to detain you with any
disquisition on these points. The natives, of course, have some childish
and not very interesting fairy story to tell about the origin of the Ko-in Tol,
[*The story is to the effect that the devil’s grandmother (?) was walking across
Kang-wha carrying the roof stone on her head and the side stones one under each
arm. Finding the weight too much, she dropped the two from under her arms, and
then stooping down, rested the roof stone on the top and left them there. ] but it is
not of a character calculated to throw much light on these questions. It
would, however, be interesting to collect facts as to the number, location,
size, shape, orientation, etc. of the various dolmens in Korea, and then
compare them with what is known of similar curiosities in other lands.
The two other pre-historic monuments are the two great Altars to
Heaven, erected one on the top of Ma-ri San in the south, and the other on
the top of Pong-tu San (not far from the cromlech) in the north of
Kang-wha. If I mistake not, the two altars, which must be about sixteen
miles apart, are just visible the one from the other through a narrow gap in
the intervening ranges of hills. The northern altar is slightly pyramidal in
outline with a flat top, the whole built of uncemented stones and
measuring (at a guess) some twenty feet high and twenty feet square at the
base. Perched right on the top of a steep hill, it is a sufficiently remarkable
object in the landscape.
The other and more famous of the two altars is similarly perched
on the top of Ma-ri San and is known as the Ch’an-sŭng Tan (參星壇) or
Star-reaching Altar. The construction of both, and the use of them as altars
for sacrificing to heaven, are ascribed to Tan-gun (檀君), the mythical
hero with whom Korean history is said to begin, and who is supposed to
have lived about 2331 B.C.
And now we come to history. You would not thank me, I am sure,
nor does it seem worth while, merely to recount in the order of their
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occurrence all the various events, many of them trivial, which find a place
in the records of Kang-wha — how in this year, the king held an
examination in Kang-wha for the scholars of the island, and in the next
year such and such a prince or minster was banished to Kang-wha, and in
[page 23] another year the governor added five feet to the rampart or put a
new roof on the yamen, etc. When history is so told, one is apt to feel that
one cannot see the wood for the trees. I propose, therefore, rather to select
the two or three most salient events or groups of events and to treat them
with such fullness as I may, leaving the rest to take care of themselves —
only premising in a general way that, when you read in Korean history of
the banishment of any prominent person, you may take for granted, if you
think the fact of any interest or importance, that the place of exile is rather
more likely to have been Kang-wha than not.
The prominent events which I propose thus to treat, as
illustrating the history of Kang-wha, are (a) the Mongol invasion of the
thirteenth century and (b) the Manchu invasion of the seventeenth century,
with a closing reference to the French and American expeditions of our
own day.
The Mongol invasion of Korea in the thirteenth century was but
an incident in the frightful Tartar eruption which at that period shook the
whole of the then known world to its base. A single remark will illustrate
this. The very same movement which in 1233 sent the King of Ko-ryŭ
cowering behind the ramparts of Kang-wha, in 1238 upset the domestic
economy of the housewives of peaceful England, six thousand miles away,
by dislocating the fisheries of the North Sea and sending up the price of
herrings to two shillings a hundred. [*Matthew Paris, quoted by Gibbon,
“Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.” chap. lxiv. (footnote).]
We in the West think a good deal of our Alexanders, our Caesars,
our Napoleons, but, as Voltaire (quoted by Gibbon, Decline and Fall, as
above) has remarked, “our European battles are petty skirmishes, if
compared to the numbers that have fought and fallen on the fields of Asia,”
and compared also, I would add, with the distances covered and the area
affected by the conquerors. Temachin, the father of these Mangols (蒙古),
only felt himself powerful enough to assume the imperial title of Genghis
Khan (成吉思), after subduing the seething mass of Tartar tribes in
North-east Asia in 1206; yet before his death in 1227 he had established
his power right across the centre [page 24] of Asia from the Yalu and the
Yellow Rivers to the Caspian Sea. Ogodai Khan (窩閼台), the son of
Genghis, a few years later subdued Korea, extinguished the Keum or Chin
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Kang-Wha
(金國) dynasty, which till that date had ruled Northern China, added
Siberia to his father’s Asiatic conquests, and was only turned back when
he had reached the confines of Austria and Germany, in the very heart of
Europe, by a league of the sovereigns of Christendom under the Emperor
Frederick II.
Kubla Khan (怱必烈), the grandson of Genghis, upset the Sung
dynasty (宋國) (Song Nara, as we call it in Korea) in South China, and so
became sovereign of all the Chinese empire, establishing himself as the
first emperor of the Yuan (元國) (or as we call it, Wŭn dynasty) reduced
the neighbouring countries of Tonkin, Cochin-China, Pegu, Bengal and
Thibet to tribute and obedience and sent his fleets scurrying in all
directions over the China Seas. And within less than a hundred years of
Kubla’s death, Tamerlane or Timur, another scion of the same Mongol
family, had conquered the teeming empire of Hindustan and set up at
Delhi that dynasty of Great Moguls (or Mongols) which only expired
within our own memory. The island empire of Japan, alone of the
countries of the East, succeeded in keeping the Mongol hordes at bay, and
the Mamelukes, meeting them on the confines of Egypt and Syria, headed
them off the continent of Africa. Constantinople, the still Christian capital
of Eastern Europe, escaped as it were by a miracle, and the united strength
of the monarchs of Christendom checked their advance in the centre of
Europe. But with these exceptions, the whole of the then known world,
from the shores of the Sea of Japan to the banks of the River Danube, and
from the Arctic Ocean to Cape Comorin, was made to feel the weight of
the Mongol’s hand, even in places where the conquering hordes did not
succeed in permanently establishing their dominion. [*See Gibbon,
“Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.” chap. lxv, from which most of the facts
in this paragraph and the preceding chapters are taken.]
Turn we now to Korea, whose inhabitants had long been familiar
with the phenomenon of a constant ferment among the Tartar tribes to the
north of the Yalu River and the Long White Mountain. When the ferment
became more than [page 25] usually active, detached portions of these
Orangk’ă [*The Korean vernacular word for a savage or barbarian. Is it in any
way related to the strangely similar name of a tribe (Ulianghai) marked in most
old maps on the borders of Mongolia, Turkestan and Siberia? If so, does it throw
any light on the origin of the Korean people? ] not infrequently overflowed the
borders into Korea itself. One of these tribes had succeeded in establishing
itself since 1115 as the imperial power in North China, under the name of
the Keum or Chin dynasty. And the kings of Ko-ryŭ had therefore to
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Kang-Wha
tender a divided allegiance to the ruling powers in China ― a sentimental

allegiance to the Song Nara or Sung dynasty, whose capital was at
Hong-chow and whose authority did not stretch north of the Yellow River,
and an allegiance of more practical import to their nearer neighbours, the
Keum Nara, whose capital was at Kai Fung. With these latter they were
on terms of friendship and intimacy, envoys frequently passing between
the two countries, while with the Kitans (契丹), another Tartar tribe which
had already been forced to yield the supremacy to the Keum Kingdom and
which was ere long to share in its fall before the rising Mongol power, the
relations of the Koreans were almost uniformly inimical. The unhappy
kingdom of Ko-ryŭ itself was not in a position to offer much resistance to
pressure from without. The Wang (王) dynasty had been on the throne at
Song-do since 936 A.D., but the central control over the more distant parts
of the kingdom seems to have been very loose; and even at the centre the
power of government was frittered away in constant faction-fights
between the civil, military and ecclesiastical (Buddhist) officials, whose
relations to one another present a sort of caricature of that union of church,
lords and commons, as the “Three Estates of the Realm” under the crown,
which is such a familiar feature in the English constitution,
The only person who seemed to count for nothing or next to
nothing was the king. Probably Korea owes it to the founder of the present
dynasty, as France owed it to Louis Onze, and England to the Wars of the
Roses, that the power of the feudal nobles has been largely broken and the
unity of the country made proportionately more practicable. Certainly in
the thirteenth century the power of the nobles in Korea seems to have
been immense. Like the daimios in Japan, [page 26] they lived in their own
fortified castles, maintained their own troops and generally did pretty
much as they pleased. As a rule one among their number succeeded for a
time in monopolizing the greater part of the political power and ruling as
“Major of the Palace” or “Tycoon,” until his assassination placed the reins
in some one else’s hands. During the period of which we are treating now,
for more than sixty years (1196-1258), the power thus remained for four
generations in the house of Ch’oé. Ch’oé Chung-heui (崔忠獻), the first
of the family to usurp authority, practically ruled the kingdom from 1196
to his death in 1218, and was directly responsible for the deposition and
banishment of two, and the succession of four, out of the five monarchs
who “flourished” in his lifetime.
The first ripple which heralded the coming Mongol storm
appeared in the reign of King Heui-jong (熙宗), 1204-1211. In the last
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Kang-Wha
year of his reign, a Korean envoy on his way to the court of Keum was
captured and slain in what is now Manchuria by Mongol soldiers. The
same year witnessed a conspiracy in Song-do, in which the king took a
hand and which had for its object the removal of the all powerful Ch’oé
Chung-heui. He was, however, quite equal to the occasion, and seizing all
the conspirators, including the king, banished them to various places of
exile, where they would be likely to do less mischief than in the capital.
The wretched king was first sent to Kang-wha and then shifted about from
one island to another, at the whim of Ch’oé Chung-heui and his son Ch’oé
U (催璃), until after twenty-six years of exile he ended his miserable
existence in 1237 and was buried in Kang-wha, where the site of his tomb
is still shown some 20 li south of the city.
In the place of the exiled king, Ch’oé Chung-heui set upon the
throne an old man of sixty, the son of a previous King Myŭng-jong (明宗),
who had also been deposed by Ch’oé some fourteen years earlier.
The new king, Kang-jong (康宗), who had spent these fourteen
years in exile in Kang-wha and who thus found himself unexpectedly
restored to the throne of his fathers, only reigned two years, and the crown
then devolved upon his young son, King Ko-jong (高宗), 1214-1260,
whose reign was [page 27] to be the longest and perhaps the most troublous
in the annals of Ko-ryŭ, as it was certainly the reign the most intimately
connected with the island of Kang-wha.
Ko-jong had hardly ascended the throne when his country was
overrun by hordes of Kitans, [*I cannot but distrust the numbers. Some 50,000
odd are said to have surrendered at Kang-dong in 1218, and this after two or three
years of roving warfare up and down Korea .] who had been pushed over the
border by the growing restlessness of the Mongols, and who between the
years 1216 and 1218 ravaged the country far and wide as far south as
Chŭn-ch’ŭn (春川). Won-ju (原州), and Ch’ung-ju (忠州). In 1218 these
Kitans withdrew to the north of Korea and shut themselves up in the
citadel of Kang-dong (江東), some thirty miles east of P’yŭng-yang. A
large force of Mongols and other Tartars had now entered Korea under a
general named Hap-jin (哈眞), in pursuit of the Kitans, who were
promptly beleaguered in Kang-dong. The Mongol general made friendly
advances to the Korean government which were warily accepted, and
ultimately a body of Korean troops joined the Mongols in the siege of
Kang-dong. When the Kitans finally surrendered, their chief leaders were
executed, but the remainder of the prisoners were scattered as colonists
over the surface of Korea. The Mongols then retired with every expression
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Kang-Wha
of friendship and esteem for their Korean allies — expression which may
or may not have been sincere at the time, but which, in the light of after
events, the Koreans may be pardoned for regarding as somewhat hollow.
Some three years later (1221) Mongol envoys arrived in Korea for the
purpose of inspecting the resources of the country. [*We know from other
sources that Genghis Khan was away from China at this time, engaged in the
subjugation of Bokhara, Samarcand, etc., in Western Asia. It is an interesting
proof of the reliability of the Korean annals that these envoys are described as
coming from the brother and wife of the khan.] Their manner was rough and
overbearing and gave great offence to the Koreans, but it seems to have
been really an accident that these Mongol envoys fell among thieves and
were murdered to their way back to Mongolia in 1225. This, however,
was the beginning of woes for the Koreans. Genghis Khan had died in
1225 and was succeeded by Ogodai Khan, his son, in 1229. One of the
first acts of his reign was in 1231 to despatch a body of troops into Korea
under a general named Sal-yé-t’ap (撤禮塔), to exact [page 28] satisfaction
for the murder of the envoys six years before. The feature of this war was
the obstinate and successful defence by the Koreans of a fortress named
Ku-ju (龜州), now (龜城), not far from Eui-ju; but in spite of all, before
long the Mongols arrived before the walls of Song-do, and in the hasty
preparations made to put the place in a state of defence, it was observed
that all the serviceable troops were engaged in guarding Ch’oé’s castle,
while the protection of the city walls was left to the old and feeble and
even to the women. The unhappy king now opened negotiations with the
Mongol general, who agreed to retire on the payment of a heavy
indemnity; and accordingly in the spring of 1232 they withdrew from
Korea, though the withdrawal was followed by the despatch of seventy
Mongol officials, to act as “political residents” in the capital and
elsewhere. No sooner, however, had the Mongol troops disappeared than
Ch’oé U, son of Ch’oé Chung-heui and now “Mayor of the Palace,”
bullied the king into removing his court and capital to Kang-wha, on the
ground of its greater security in the event of a fresh Mongol invasion.
There was great opposition to the proposal, and white the king wavered,
Cho’oé U cut the matter short by starting thither himself. As he probably
took with him all the treasure and most of the troops, and as for years past
the very government offices had been quartered under his roof, there was
nothing for it but for the king and court to follow. The move from
Song-do to Kang-wha took place during the rainy season, and the native
historian has drawn a graphic picture, almost worthy of Carlyle, of the
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Kang-Wha
miseries endured by the royal cortege, slipping about on the miry and
flooded roads under the incessant downpour of the summer rains. Even
the bones of the king’s ancestors were taken up and re-interred in
Kang-wha, and though they were removed again some forty years later,
what is probably the place of their temporary sojourn (盖骨洞) is still
pointed out about ten li south of the present city.
Between the years 1233 and 1237 the Kang-wha ramparts were
built and in 1234 the palace was taken in hand.
This removal of the court and capital to the “islands of the sea”
supplied the Mongols with a fresh grievance, and Sal-yé-t’ap was again
despatched with a Mongol force to bring the king to his senses. This
expedition is said to gave been withdrawn [page 29] in 1233 in consequence
of the death of the commander (who had been acting with great brutality)
by a chance shot from the bow of a monk in the town of Yong-in (龍仁).
But the Kang-wha annals declare that the withdrawal was largely due to
the successful representations on the subject made to the Mongol khan by
Yi Kyu-bo (李奎報), a scholar and official of Kang-wha, whose memory
is still revered and the site of whose house and grave are still pointed out.
But though they may have retired for the time, the persistent refusal of the
king to leave Kang-wha and return to Song-do during the remainder of his
long reign of forty-five years was a constant source of annoyance to the
Mongol court. Message after message was sent to the old king — and
received by him with a show of obedience — ordering his instant return to
the mainland. And Mongol troops were constantly on Korean soil,
sometimes on the plea of hunting otters, and sometimes to back up the
imperial demands for the king’s return to Song-do. They seem, however,
never to have landed on Kang-wha itself, though we read of the king on
one occasion crossing the water to hold a conference with the Mongol
envoys at what is now P’ung-dok (豐德), and on another of the Mongol
troops climbing Mun-su San, opposite Kap-kot-chi, and looking down
thence across the straits into the city. At last, in 1259, the old king died,
full of years if not honour, having two years previously been set free from
the tyranny of the Ch’oé family by the murder of the great-grandson of the
original Ch’oé Chung-heui. The king was buried about five li outside the
west gate of the city, where the site of his tomb is still shown, near the
Blue Lotus Temple, in the district of Kuk-jong (國淨).
At the time of Ko-jong’s death his eldest son, the crown prince,
was in residence at the Mongol court and the government of Korea
temporarily devolved on Ko-jong’s grandson, under whom steps were
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Kang-Wha
immediately taken for the return of the court to Song-do. This removal,
however, did not take place for full another ten years (in 1270). And
during this period Kang-wha remained the capital of Korea, a position it
thus held for nearly forty years.
Kubla Khan, known to the Koreans as Hol-p’il-yŭli (忽必烈),
was just on the point of succeeding his brother Man-gu [page 30] on the
Mongol throne, when the news arrived of Ko-jong’s death. The crown
prince, who was now to succeed to the throne of Ko-ryŭ and who is
known to us as Wŭn-jong (元宗), had a very flattering and gratifying
interview with Kubla and was honourably despatched to his native land,
and from henceforth the relations of the two countries seem to have been
friendly. The Mongol “political residents” were recalled and only
re-established ten years later at the king’s request. In 1263 Kubla assisted
in putting down a rebellion headed by a noble named Im, who had
confined the king to the palace and invested himself and his friends with
sovereign power. In 1270 King Won-jong went to the Mongol court to ask
for the reappointment of “political residents” and to beg for a daughter of
Kubla’s as a wife for his son. Both favours were granted, and a Mongol
princess, who boasted of the extraordinary name of Hol-do-ro-kuŭl-mi-sil
(忽都魯擖米寶), became the wife of the crown prince, who ultimately
succeeded to the throne of Korea as King Chong-gŭ (貞忠烈) in 1275. In
her favour apparently the prince’s original wife (none other than the
Queen Chong-wha (貞和) who helped to found the temple of Chun-teung
Sa) was degraded to the second rank, and the presence of these two ladies
at court was the source of more than one palace intrigue. In 1270, the
capital was at length removed to Song-do from Kang-wha, and in 1274,
the year in which the Koreans joined in Kubla’s disastrous expedition to
Japan, King Won-jong died, [*King Won-jong was not buried at Kang-wha
like his two predecessors; but besides their tomb Kang-wha also boasts the tombs
of two queens, the consorts respectively of Ko-jong and Won-jong, the 坤陵 and
嘉陵.] and was succeeded by his son Ch’ung-yŭl, who was, however, at
the time resident at the Mongol court and did not return to Korea with his
Mongol consort till some months later.
With the accession of Ch’ung-yŭl, and the removal of the capital
to Song-do, the main stream of Korean history flows away from
Kang-wha again, though for a short period (1290-92) Kang-wha became
the capital for a second time, shortly before the death of Kubla Khan. This
was in consequence of the invasion of the Hap-tan (哈丹) Tartars, who
were fugitive rebels from the rule of Kubla, and who were shortly
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Kang-Wha
suppressed by the aid of Mongol troops. The court then [page 31] returned
to Song-do, which remained the capital for another century, until the
foundation of the present dynasty in 1391-92.
And now let us take a jump of three hundred and fifty years,
from the close of the thirteenth to the middle of the seventeenth century
— from the invasion of the Mongols to that of the Manchus, whose
descendants have occupied the throne of China for now nearly three
hundred years.
Ever since the rise of Nurhachu (1559-1626) “the real founder”
of the Manchu power and of the present dynasty (called by the Koreans
Ch’ŭng Nara) in China, the Manchu power had gradually extended itself
from its first home in the neighbourhood of Moukden, and the power of
the Mings (called by the Koreans Myŭng Nara) had proportionately failed,
until in 1635 Nurhachu’s son Ch’ŭng-jung (天聦) thought himself
justified in assuming the title of Emperor of China. The Koreans clung to
the cause of the falling Mings with a tenacity like that of the Jacobites in
England in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. [*To the present day a
Chinese, as representing the Manchu power is usually a Ho-in (胡人) to a Korean:
and for many years, indeed almost until recently, when they thought they could
do so with impunity, the Koreans by a polite fiction dated documents, etc., by the
regnal year of Sung-jong, the last of the Mings.]
This not unnaturally brought on them the anger and vengeance of
the rising power, and in 1636-7 they were made to feel it. In the fifth year
of King In-jo (仁祖大王), (1628), there had already been a preliminary
invasion of the Manchus, during which the king had taken refuge in
Kang-wha. But at a conference held in the Chin-hă Ru (鎭海樓), or Gate
Tower (still standing) at Kap-kot-chi, between the Manchu envoys and the
ministers of the king, the Manchus were prevailed on to withdraw their
forces by promises of submission on the part of the Koreans. It was their
disregard of the undertakings then given which brought on them the
terrible humiliation and sufferings of the Pyŭng-ja Ho-ran (丙子胡亂)
(1636-7), which with the In-jin Oai-ran (壬辰倭亂) (1592), remains one
of the two great landmarks in the history of the present dynasty. I take up
the story at the point at which it begins to affect Kang-wha — my chief
authority being the great tablet to the Sŭn-won Sŭn-săng, which stands
opposite the bell tower in Kang-wha city. [page 32]
Alarmed by the Manchu advance the king had already sent the
ancestral tablets of the royal family to Kang-wha, together with the crown
princess and her son [*I suppose that this is the meaning of the expression
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Kang-Wha
元孫.] and two other of his own sons, of whom one was afterwards to
succeed him as King Hyo-jong (孝宗). He himself (and presumably the
crown prince) was on the point of following them — indeed the royal
cortége had left the palace and gone as far as the South Gate of Seoul —
when the appearance of the Manchu advance guard in the neighbourhood
of the Peking Pass necessitated a sudden change of plans, and the king
directed his course to Nam-han San-sŭng (南漢山城) where he remained
shut up until the conclusion of peace and the withdrawal of the invaders.
The Manchus, masters of Seoul, promptly invested Nam Han and
detached a large portion of their forces to Kang-wha. The defence of
Kang-wha, which now contained, besides the royal party, hundreds of
other and less distinguished refugees, had been entrusted by the king to
two high officials, named respectively Kim Kyŭng-jeung (金慶徵) and Yi
Min-gu (李敏求), in conjunction with the then Yu-su, whose surname was
Chang (張紳). And what followed affords a signal instance of the
poltroonery and selfishness sometimes found in high official circles, in
Korea as well as elsewhere, and of the latent patriotism and courage
sometimes called out in quarters where it is least looked for. The high
officials above mentioned, confident in the strength of Kang-wha’s natural
defences and in the fact that the approach by ferry was made more
difficult, as it is to this day, by the vast masses of floating ice — for it was
now mid-winter — took practically no measures to secure the safety of
their charge. They wasted their time in dissipation and pleasure-seeking,
and met with contumely and abuse any suggestions made to them as to the
desirability of doing something to resist possible invaders. The result was
as might have been expected. In a few days the Manchu forces appeared at
the Kap-kot-chi ferry, and meeting with but feeble resistance at this point
— which might and should have been strongly defended — they marched
almost without opposition straight into the city, where they secured the
person of the crown princess and, having subsequently [page 33] captured
the young princes, marched back with their captives to Nam Han, after
having practically destroyed Kang-wha city and put hundreds of the
refugees and residents to the sword. The young princes are said to have
escaped through the North Gate and only to have been captured at Pu-gun
Tari (扶君橋), between five and ten li to the north-west. The memory of
this event is kept alive by two things — first, the name of the tong-nă and
bridge, which signifies “Seize Prince,” and, secondly, by a curious mark,
known as the P’i-pal, or Bloody Footmark, on the stone which forms the
bridge. This mark is of course really a perfectly natural mark in the stone,
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Kang-Wha
but it certainly has a most singular resemblance to a blood-red footmark

on the white stone and is believed by Koreans to mark the spot on which
one of the princes stood when he felt his Manchu captor’s hand on his
shoulder.
Meanwhile, Kim, Yi and Chang, the three officials who were
responsible for the defence of Kang-wha, had slipped away by boat at the
first approach of danger and left the place and its occupants to shift for
themselves — a piece of disgraceful cowardice for which, as they richly
deserved, they were rewarded with the death penalty after cessation of
hostilities. But the black picture of their cowardice is relieved by
numberless stories of real heroism, the memory of which is kept alive by
three remarkable monuments in Kang-wha and by the periodical offering
of state sacrifices to the loyal men and women who then perished. The
greatest and most important of these is offered on the spot inside the
present West Gate (麥峴祭壇), where most of the victims suffered, every
sixty years, when the cycle brings round the year Chung-ch’uk (丁丑),
being that in which the disaster took place.
The three monuments are (a) the handsome tablet to the Sŭn-won
Sŭn-săng, opposite the bell, which luckily escaped the conflagration of
1866; (b) the weather-beaten tablets, erected to the memory of the “Three
Faithful Soldiers” (三忠壇), on the hill behind Kap-kot-chi, where these
heroes, with a mere handful of men, offered what resistance they could to
the advancing Manchus; and (c) the handsome temple, known as the
Ch’ung-yŭl Sa (忠烈祠), erected on the site of the Sŭn-won Sŭn-săng’s
house by the grateful King In-jo, in 1642, i.e. some six years after the
event. Here are preserved the [page 34] tablets of twelve of those whose
conduct in this disaster was most worthy of remembrance — that of the
Sŭn-won Sŭn-săng in the middle, with those of his eleven fellows,
including the “three faithful soldiers,” ranged on his right and left; and
here sacrifices are offered in their memory by a grateful government in the
spring and autumn of every year.
The Sŭn-won Sŭn-săng, to whom we have thus referred so often
by his posthumous title of honour, was a nyang-ban of the name of Kim
Sang-yong (金尙容), who, as far back as 1590, had risen to high rank in
the government and distinguished himself by the uprightness of his
conduct and the faithful discharge of his duties under more than one
monarch. In early youth he had lived in Kang-wha in a house outside the
city, the site of which is now occupied by the Ch’ung-yŭl Sa. At the
period of Ho-ran or Manchu invasion, being now an old man and having
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Kang-Wha
long retired from office, he had settled again in Kang-wha, apparently

occupying a house close to the present bell-kiosk. He had been foremost
among those who urged the officials — Kim, Yi and Chang — to put
Kang-wha in a proper state of defence; and when the news of the king
being besieged in Nam Han reached Kang-wha, he had urged the despatch
of a “forlorn hope” to attempt a rescue. He met, however, with nothing but
insolence and abuse. But though his family urged him now to save his life
by taking boat and escaping to some remote island, he steadily refused to
“steal his life,” (儒生) by deserting his country in the hour of danger. On
the fatal day when Kim, Yi and Chang fled, leaving the road to the city
open and unprotected, and the Ho-in were seen approaching the city wall,
Kim Sang-yong, bidding farewell to his family, mounted the pavilion over
the South Gate, where a great quantity of gunpowder had been stored, and
making signals to the by-standers to move out of harm’s way, placed a
match to the powder and perished in the frightful explosion which
followed. His little thirteen-year old grandson had followed him up to the
pavilion, and when the old man bade a servant take him to a place of
safety the little fellow clung to the old man’s side and begged to be
allowed to die with him, a request re-echoed by the slave in his own
behalf and gratified in both cases, for both were killed in the explosion, as
were two or [page 35] three other brave men, who voluntarily faced death
rather than dishonour. The “three faithful soldiers,” who, with Kim
Sang-yong and others, are honoured in the Ch’ung-yŭl Sa and to whose
special honour the tablets before mentioned were erected on the hill
behind Kap-kot-chi, where they died, bore the surnames of Whang, Ku
and Kang (黃善身, 具元一, 姜興葉) respectively. Of these the former
held the high rank of Chung-gun, or Military Lieutenant-governor of
Kang-wha, while the other two were men of much lower rank, being no
more than Ch’ŭn-ch’ong (千摠) or captains of companies. Whang had
done this best to persuade his chief, the Yu-su, to take effective steps to
stop the enemy’s advance. He was, however, laughed at for his pains, and
was finally given a handful of feeble troops and told to go and face the
enemy with them. Seeing the day was lost, he called Kang to his side, and
they two sallying forth beneath the Chin-hă Ru, still standing on the
water’s edge at Kap-kot-chi, fought till their arms refused to draw the bow
any more, by which time they had sent several score of Ho-in to their
account. Worn out at last, they were taken captive, fighting to the bitter
end, and slain. Meanwhile Ku-wŭn-il, who had been striving to get the
Yu-su Chang to take some active steps, now that Kim and Yi had fled,
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Kang-Wha
finding his urgent entreaties unheeded, passed from entreaty to bitter

rebuke, and finally, bursting into tears, turned and prostrated himself four
times towards the distant Nam Han where his sovereign lay besieged, and
then jumped into the river, sword in hand, and was drowned.
Such are some of the tales of patriotism and courage which help
to relieve the black impression left by the action or inaction of those
whose duty it was to have spared no exertion and to refuse no risk. And
the Kang-wha annals record the actions of scores of others, men and
women, bond and free, who deserved well of the republic on that black
day.
Did time and space allow I should like to ask you to take one
more leap with me, this time from the middle of the seventeenth century
to the middle of the nineteenth and to listen to the story of the French and
American expeditions against Korea, which made Kang-wha again the
scene of bloodshed in 1866 and 1871. But the first of these stories is [page
36] so admirably told in the pages of Pere Dallet’s book, [*Histoire de
l’Eglise de Coree, Vol. II, pp. 572-586.] whence it is transferred almost
bodily, with some curious mistranslations, to the pages of Griffis Corea,
the Hermit Nation, [*Corea, the Hermit Nation, pp. 377-387. I would suggest
that the French “une arche-surmontee d’une toiture en pagoda” can hardly be
rendered “surmounted by a tortoise! and a pagada!”] that there seems the less
need to recount it here. And the other is so fully treated by Mr. Griffis
himself in the book above mentioned, which is easily accessible to all, that
I propose to refer you to his pages for that also. [*Griffis’ Corea, the Hermit
Nation, pp. 403-419.]
To the information which he there gives, I will only add that two
tablets now stand on the headland above Son-dol Mok, erected (as it is
stated on the inscription) by the people, great and small, of Kang-wha, in
grateful memory of those who fell fighting, as they deem it, for their
country, under the guns of the American squadron in 1871. A small chapel
for offering sacrifice to the manes of the deceased soldiers, which was
erected apparently at the same time, seems now wholly neglected and is
rapidly falling into ruin,
The tablet gives a list of all those slain on the Korean side,
amounting in all to four officers of varying rank and forty-nine of the rank
and file. The discrepancy between this and the two hundred and
forty-three mentioned by Griffis is so great that one feels it requires some
explanation.
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Kang-Wha
I believe that the grounds of the monastery at Chun-deung Sa

contains a similar tablet in memory of the French expedition of 1866. In
1876, five years after the American expedition, the Japanese treaty with
Korea, which led the way to the opening of the country to foreign
intercourse, was signed, as I have already told you, in Kang-wha, which
from that date to this has not been disturbed by war’s horrid alarms. Let us
hope that the island, whose name is thus intertwined with some of the
most stirring events in past Korean history, will not fail to secure its full
share in the enjoyment of this era of peace, prosperity and good
government to which we all are looking forward as we stand on the
threshold of the twentieth century after Christ.
136
Volume III. 1903.
[page 18]
The Culture and Preparation of Ginseng in Korea.

By Rev. C. T. Collyer. [Charles T. Collyer]
Ginseng is the generic name applied to the several varieties of the plant
known to the Chinese as Jen-sêng(人蔘 or 人參), of which indeed it is a
rough and ready reproduction. It is interesting to note that as Westerners
call the plant by its Chinese name so they know it to be of value only as it
is prized by the Celestials.
In Korea it is known as Sam (삼), which is the native
pronunciation of the Chinese 蔘. Not to speak of sub-divisions, the
following varieties are generally recognized by Korean growers: ―
1. ― 山蔘 (산삼) Wild Sam, literally Mountain Sam. It is this
wild ginseng of which we hear such fabulous stories and which is valued
at such an extraordinary figure. It stands to reason that there is practically
none of it or else the whole population would be out on the hunt. If a
grower finds an unusually large root among his crop he often dries it
privately and palms it off as having been found in some deep mountain
ravine.
2. ― 嶺蔘 (렁삼), Ryeng Sam, which comes from Kyoung-sang
Do (경상도). Its characteristic is that in body it is smaller than that grown
in Song-do. It is merely sun-dried and is said to be a very powerful drug.
It is but seldom exported, being highly valued by the Koreans, who will
pay $22.00, Korean currency, per pound.
3. ― 江直蔘 (강직삼) Kang Chik Sam comes from the
province of Kang wŭn (강원) and is graded as second to the above. In
appearance it so like the Song Sam that it cannot be told apart by the
uninitiated. Its difference if that it weighs more and is less powerful than
No. 2. [page 19]
4. ― 松蔘 (숑삼) Song Sam is that grown in Song-do and only
sun-dried. Its distinction is that it is less powerful than either of the above,
for which reason it is graded commercially as No. 3.
137
The Culture and Preparation of Ginseng in Korea
5. ― 紅蔘 (홍삼) Hong Sam (Red Sam) is the last above

mentioned variety after it has passed through the Government’s drying
establishment in Song-do. It forms the principal export of this country,
and is one of the most valuable assets of the Household Department.
Of these five varieties but two are recognized by the Royal
Korean Customs, those known respectively as “White” and “Red”
Ginseng. The “White Ginseng” is the root that has been sun-dried or cured
by some other simple process ― the same as that shipped from America
to China. The figures for 1898 published by the Bureau of Statistics of the
United States Treasury Department show that the trade in the States if by
no means a small one, 174,063 pounds having been exported, valued at
$836,446.00 or an average of $4.80 per pound. In the same year 1,866
pounds were shipped from Korea at the average value of Yen 2.21 per
pound. The export of this “White Ginseng” is decreasing all the time, for
all roots that will pass muster bring a much bigger return if converted into
“Red Ginseng.” The figures for Hong Sam (Red Ginseng) for that same
year (1898) show that 60,104 lbs. were shipped to China from Chemulpo,
valued by the Customs at an average of Yen 15.87 per pound. From these
figures it will be seen that when the root has been put through the process
that is hereinafter described it is two and one-seventh times more valuable
than the American product.
That the trade really is an important one will be best gathered
from the following figures which have been kindly furnished by the
Customs authorities: ―
[page 20]
STATISTICS OF EXPORT OF GINSENG FROM KOREA.
White―Whole & Beard Red―Whole & Beard

Year Weight in Weight in
Value in Yen Value in Yen
Piculs Catties
1892…… 210 22,637 ― ―
1893…… 110 9,465 ― ―
1894…… 112 11,371 ― ―
1895…… 33 5,310 ― ―
1896…… 71 5,694 16,686 268,054
1897…… 41 3,066 33,037 629,375
1898…… 14 842 45,087 954,007
1899…… 11 564 23,178 379,376
1900…… 10 726 60,310 1,547,400
138
1901…… 12 1,188 18,431 515,955

Total…… 644 60,863 196,729 4,294,177
For the six years (1896-1901) the average value per catty of “Red”
was Yen 21.83 and of “White” Yen 0.76.
These figures hardly give one a true idea of the value, for “Beard”
is of very much lower price than “Whole.”
It might be mentioned that much difficulty has been experienced
in getting reliable information about the cultivation of ginseng. While the
growers are too polite not to talk readily to one, yet on subsequent
investigation I have often found that I had been misinformed.
Before a garden, locally known as a Sam-po, is ready for its first
planting of Sam, extensive preparations are necessary. In the early winter
thousands of loads of a variety of disintegrated granite known as
Whang-t’o (黃土 황토) and also of Yakto (藥土) 약토 are carried to the
Sam-po and heaped up in separate mounds. This 약토 (medicine earth) is
a moderately rich mulch made from the leaves of the chestnut oak
(Quercus Sinensis), known to the Koreans as the Sang (橡―도토리상).
[page 21] The leaves are gathered in the spring and summer, dried in the sun,
pulverized and sprinkled with water to help decomposition. This mulch is
the only fertilizer used. The Koreans say that one of the secrets of
successful cultivation lies in its use. Experiments have been made with
other fertilizers, but none has been found that will take its place.
Before the season opens much time is spent in preparing the
frames and mats used for the sheds under which the Sam is grown. As
soon as the frost is out of the ground the garden is ploughed up and
thoroughly worked over with a spade operated by a gang of five or more
men. The spade is made of wood, has an iron shoe or tip, and a handle
eight to ten feet long, to the butt of which are fastened two straw ropes.
The captain, as we might call him, manipulates the handle while each half
of the crew gives its undivided attention to a rope. Then with “a long pull,
a strong pull, and a pull altogether” an amazingly small quantity of dirt is
thrown a distance of two feet or so. After the beds have been made high
enough to prevent the possibility of water, even in the rainy season,
getting to the roots of the plants, they are dug out to the depth of about six
inches and carefully edged with slabs of slate. In the meantime the
artificial soil (mom huk 몸흙) has been prepared. It consists of 15 bushels
mulch (약토) and 22½ bushels disintegrated granite (황토) to the kan
139
[*5½ feet] ―during the last few years some of the big growers have been
using ⅓ bushel of wood ashes mixed with the above ― these are rubbed
together by hand, and with it the dug-out is filled up.
Sam is propagated from seed. As in other branches of the culture,
the Koreans pay much attention to the seed. Four-year-old plants, if
forward, will flower in the sixth moon (July); should the plants not be
sufficiently forward the leaves are nipped off to prevent them flowering.
Seed is also borne by five and six-year-old plants; that of the old plants is
considered the best. Each year at the chung-pok (中伏 중복) [*The second
day of the midsummer festival, 26 July.] the seed is gathered and placed in
grass cloth bags, which are held in running water and violently shaken to
remove the red husks. The seed, which is a cream white, is then scattered
on a sunk bed of sand dug up from the bottom of a stream; a thick
covering of sand is spread over the seed and they are watered [page 22]
every day until the yip-tong (立冬 립동). [*November 8] This seed-bed
occupies a conspicuous position in the end of the garden nearest the house:
it has a plank frame and is covered with a lath screen. As it is of great
importance to shield the seed from the early frosts, straw thatch is piled
over the cover of the bed every night. On the 립동 the seed is dug up and
sorted. Those seeds which have commenced to germinate are packed with
sand in jars and buried in a shady place for the winter.
One of the busiest times of the year is when the seed is sown,
crowds of coolies being employed to make up the beds, &c. When the bed
has been properly prepared six or eight boys in charge of a man are set to
work sowing the seed; they are preceded by a man who marks off the bed
with an ingenious tool three feet long with half inch pegs at one inch
intervals, the boys then come along and drop a seed in each hole, which is
afterwards covered up by the man in charge who presses the soil down
with his hands. It should be noted that 62 or 63 rows are sown to each kan.
If at the time of sowing ― which by the way is regulated by the calendar
and not by the weather ― it is at all cold the beds are immediately
covered with one or two thicknesses of ricestraw thatch. If the weather is
at all suitable the thatch is removed at the time of the Ch’ung-myung
(淸明 청명) [*April 4] and the sheds erected. It is quite a relief to see
anything done with exactness and precision in Korea. Great care is taken
in measuring the beds―which must face N.N.E. ¾E. ― and in erecting
the sheds with exact uniformity. The rows of pillars are three feet apart;
those in the front row measure just three feet seven from the ground and
those in the back but ten inches. The pillars are set five-and-a-half feet
140
apart and are nearly all spruce pine. Bamboo poles are securely lashed to
the pillars and they in their turn support the cross pieces on which the roof
of the shed rests. The roof is made of reeds woven together with straw
rope.
From this time on the plants require incessant care, several men
being kept busy in each garden. If the plants break through the earth by
the Kok-u (穀雨 곡우) [*May 6] they must be watered every three or four
days; if the weather at the Ip-ha (立夏 립하) [*April 21] is getting
gradually warmer they are [page 23] watered twice in twenty-four hours and
the top mat is rolled up from off the roof during the middle of the day.
The calendar being unable to regulate the amount of water necessary it is
a rule:— “If there is drought give water plentifully; if there is plenty of
rain, give but little water. Let dryness and dampness harmonize!” At the
time of the summer solstice the rainy season may be expected, so a thick
covering of thatch is spread over the sheds, while the back and front are
enclosed by rush blinds.
A native writer says:-
“The nature of Sam is different from that of other plants. It does not
require much water nor should it be too dry. It likes light. Because it does not
want too much dryness, the beds must be made wide and covered with mats to
shade off the extreme light. If the soil (몸흙) in which it is planted is dry, give
water and draw down the shades: if it is too moist, open the shades and let in the
light. Rain and dew must not be allowed to fall upon it, but it must be watered as
though it rained. The covering of the beds is not to keep out the wind and the
sunshine, but to give the effect of a cloudy day. Following upon cold, if the
ground be dry or damp, shade or light must be given, and if watered special care
must be taken to avoid chilling the plants. When the atmosphere is warm or cold
much shade or sunshine must not be allowed for either extreme is unsuited to the
nature of the plant.”
Several references having been made to the watering of the
plants, it may not be without its interest to pause and watch the operation.
There is a well in or near every garden, from which water is lifted by
means of a sweep. As far as we are aware, this is the only appliance in
extensive use in Korea for lifting well water, but it is only used locally in
the Sam gardens. The bucket itself is a combination of the Occidental and
the Oriental. It is made of a strip of kerosene tin nailed on to semi-circular
pieces of wood, which in their turn are nailed to a cross piece into which
an upright handle is morticed. The rope of the sweep is fastened to this
handle by means of a wire loop pulled off an oil can. The water when
141
raised is emptied into an earthenware crock which is securely tied to a

frame mounted on four crude wheels; this is drawn round the garden and
between the beds and from it the water is dipped out in a gourd fastened to
a long handle. This gourd is perforated [page 24] and in each perforation is
inserted a small bamboo spout which gives the “rainy effect” that is so
much desired.
It is not until the Ip Tong (립동) [*November 8] has passed that
the grower is able to rest easily. Up to that day he has to be continually on
the alert, waging war against insects and weeds. Then with a sigh of relief,
he pulls down the sheds and having put a layer of soil some seven or eight
inches thick on the beds, the garden is left thus for the winter.
His next care is to select another site to which he can move his
plants in the spring. The new lot need not be as sandy as the first one, but
on the other hand a heavy clay is quite unsuitable. Having selected his site,
fresh whang-t’o and yak-t’o in sufficient quantities must be carried thither
in readiness for the opening of the next season.
At Ch’un-pun (春分) [*March 21] of the following year the new
beds are made up and the plants removed from last year’s garden. This
time they are planted ten or twelve rows of ten roots each to the kan. The
prepared soil (몸흙) is not of quite the same proportion and is less than
last year’s — 8 bushels (말) mulch (약토) and nine of disintegrated
granite (황토). To this also a very small quantity of wood ashes is
sometimes added. The duties of this year are similar to those of last year,
but there is an added care. The roots are now worth stealing, consequently
the garden has to be watched day and night. A watch tower is erected and
the hands take turn about in occupying it sentry-wise. Another man
continually patrols the garden during the hours of darkness. With a view
to scaring off the spirits and to prevent himself from feeling lonely he
makes the night “hideous” with his cries. On dark nights a lantern is an
indispensible accessory; but while any kind of lantern may be used,
preference is given to one made for this special purpose as it throws its
light a considerable distance. Made of paper and pasted on bamboo ribs, it
is ballon-shaped, with the small end open. The handle which is fastened to
the big end if pushed inwards will carry with it through the opening a
swinging candlestick. It is only when the light is thrown in one’s face that
one realizes how brilliant it is.
In the following year, a few days after Ch’un-un-pun the [page 25]
plants are again moved. The circumstances are the same as last year,
excepting that they are planted further apart, four roots to the row and
142
eight to the kan. This is intended to be the final planting, but should the
root not thrive it is moved to yet another location as soon as possible.
Here should be noted a special point in Ginseng culture, one
which is held as a close secret. Each time the roots are transplanted they
are placed in the ground almost horizontally, slanting slightly downwards.
The reasons for not planting them vertically are: (1) That water may be
applied evenly to the whole root; (2) To prevent the roots from dividing
and spreading into fine rootlets, sometimes known as “beard,” and (3)
That they may be readily inspected. Where the roots are so subject to
blight it is a matter of great importance to be able to inspect them without
disturbance.
Like so many other plants Sam has its special blight, the
consideration of which must be left for a future paper.
When the plant is five, six or seven years old, according to
circumstances and to grade, the root is dug up and handed over to the
Government. Work at the Drying Establishment is carried on from the
10th of the Eighth Moon (September 11) to the 20th of the Ninth Moon
(October 21) and the roots have to be delivered during that period.
The law requires every Ginseng garden to be registered. The
certificate of registration, for which a fee of 40 cents is charged, states
how many kan are under cultivation, so that the authorities always know
how many roots should be available at harvest time. It being obligatory to
sell the entire crop to the Government, the grower’s responsibility ceases
when he has delivered his crop to the Government’s Drying Establishment
(圃所표소). He there receives a receipt for what has been brought in, but
has to possess his soul in patience for several months until the
Government is ready to pay — when he gets anything from $6.00 to $9.00
per catty of 20 oz.
As to the profitableness of Sam growing. As an investment, of
course, something large would naturally be expected when one has to wait
from five to seven years for a return, From the best — though it can
hardly be considered absolutely reliable — information to hand I gather
that a profit of about 60 per cent is generally made on the original outlay
and running [page 26] expenses. It is with some hesitancy that this figure is
stated and it is given for what it is worth.
Upon visiting the Drying Establishment the first thing that
impresses itself upon one’s mind is the inaccessibility of the place, both
with regard to the streets leading to it and to the guard placed at its gate.
As at the emperor’s palace so here the guard is no respector of persons.
143
Until two or three years ago this establishment and the entire industry of
Ginseng culture was under the supervision of the Song-do governor.
There is now a specially appointed official, known as the Sam Sŭng Kwa
Chang (蔘省課長 삼성과장). That this gentleman is held personally
responsible for the stock is proved by the fact that he has recently had to
pay a very large sum out of his own pocket for Ginseng that has more or
less mysteriously found its way into other hands than those of the
government.
Passing the guards, parts of whose uniform are usually
conspicuous by their absence but of whom it must be said that whatever
else may be forgotten the ominous bayonet is always in evidence, one
finds himself in a twelve feet wide road running east and west and, for a
considerable distance, with high walls on either side. Opening to the north
and south are the gates leading into the twin compounds, each of which is
in charge of a Chu Sa (主事 주사) resident on the premises while the
curing process is in operation. Each section of the P’o Sa (포사) is about
four acres in extent and is so much like the others that it is only necessary
to refer to one of them. On three sides of the compound are buildings
varying from 100 to 150 feet in length and of a uniform depth of 12 feet.
One of these buildings is used as quarters for the workmen, the others are
the drying rooms in which the root is stored every night. These drying
rooms are divided into sections and called respectively “First Heaven,”
“Second Heaven,” “Third Heaven,” “First Earth,” “Second Earth,” and
“Third Earth.” Every tray is labelled according to the room from which
it is taken. On the fourth side are the steaming shed and the various
storerooms. Except for the buildings, almost the entire space of the
enclosure is covered with three-feet-high bamboo platforms, on which the
trays are exposed to the sun. Near the centre of each compound, under the
shade of some very ancient yew trees, is the well, at the mouth of which
the roots are washed as [page 27] soon as received. Year after year the same
boys and men, to the number of 140, are employed in the drying house.
They are well fed and housed; during the forty days that the drying
process is in operation not one of them is allowed to go out of the gate
without a special permit from the chu sa in charge, and even then he is
searched by the guard.
It is a busy time when the freshly dug up roots are carried to the
drying house. They are carefully counted and weighed on a scale-beam
suspended from a specially erected structure; receipts for the number of
roots and their weight are given to the growers.
144
It is interesting to note that during the process through which the

root will have to go it loses just two-thirds of its weight. The process
commences with a thorough washing by hand at the well mouth. The root
is then handed over to men who carefully brush it with human-hair
brushes: it is important that no speck of dirt be left between the rootlets.
They are then packed in baskets (둥우리), two feet in diameter and six
inches in depth, with a handle at either side for convenience of lifting.
These are placed in pairs in an earthen ware steamer. The steamers are
four feet in diameter and one and a half deep; they have holes in the
bottom to admit the steam from the iron boiler below. When ready to
commence the process of steaming three gallons of water are poured into
the five-gallon boiler, the steamer placed on top and the joint made tight
by a pad of grass-cloth. The steamer in its turn is covered with a lid placed
on a paper pad held down by six or eight tiles tied together with straw
rope. I am told that the object of the padding is to prevent any steam from
escaping, though observation has shown me that a large quantity
fortunately does escape. There are two places in which the steaming is
done. Each has four fire-places in a row; the boilers are placed in the
masonry just as the rice pot in every Korean house, the whole covered in
by a straw shed. Pine wood only is burnt. It is a matter of great importance
that there should be enough, without too much fire; the same men are
employed year after year to do nothing but attend to this part of the
business. The duration of steaming is determined by the burning of a torch
made of the fibre and bark of the locust tree (R Pseudacacia.) For [page 28]
seven-year old roots, 4½ inches are burnt; for six-year old, 3½ inches, and
for five-years old, 2¾ inches. While the torch is burning it is placed in an
earthenware vessel covered with a cloth. One day I suggested it would be
easier to time the steaming by a watch and was told that easier it might be
but certainly not as reliable. Just as soon as the torch is burnt out the fire
has to be drawn; the baskets are lifted out of the steamer and the roots
placed thirty each on wicker trays and exposed to the sun. When the roots
stop steaming they are turned over and left in the sun a little while longer,
then carried to the drying house.
This drying house has no floor and is so carefully built as to be
air-tight; its doors are made of extra thick boards and all cracks are pasted
up with stout paper. Shelves, or racks, of bamboo are placed all round the
house and on these are the trays containing the roots. Three shallow holes
are dug in the ground and huge charcoal fires lighted in them; the doors
are then closed and hermetically sealed. During his absence of about half
145
a day from the room a change takes place in the root that the Korean is
quite unable to explain: the carbonic oxide liberated from the charcoal
acts upon some property of the root producing a chemical change in
colour and touch. We thus see that those books on chemistry which state
that “Carbonic oxide is not put to any use in the arts and manufactures”
are mistaken. When the Sam is taken out of the drying house its “body” is
red, and just so hard that it will not yield to the touch: the rootlets are then
cut off diagonally with a pair of scissors. For about ten days the roots are
exposed to the sun until they become “as hard as stone,” when with a
small knife the root-stock is scraped and if on the primary root there are
any “pimples” as the natives call them, they are carefully cut off.
We have now reached the last item in the process and it certainly
shows that the Koreans are ingenious about some things. The roots are
now so hard and brittle that they will break if let drop on the floor, so it
would be almost impossible to pack them without injury. A foreigner
would get a lot of excelsior or cotton to protect that which had cost him so
much labour, but not so the Korean. He simply puts the roots [page 29] in a
hamper, which he places on the earthen floor of a damp store-room. In a
short while the roots soften; they are then removed to a room with a
heated stone floor and spread out covered with sheets of oil paper, being
thus left until they are so soft that they yield to the touch. They can now
be easily packed in paper bags and pressed into pine-wood boxes without
fear of injury. After being packed they again harden, becoming adjusted to
the shape of the box.
Each box is supposed to contain five catties. It is fastened with
bamboo nails and wrapped first in common stout paper and then in
oil-paper. Eight boxes go to the hamper, which is made of locust-tree
withes papered within and without. They are then enclosed in a
grass-cloth bag tightly bound with hemp-rope and labelled, and are then
ready for the market.
The virtue of Sam as a drug lies in its aphrodisiacal property. I
believe that it does not find a place in Western pharmacy because all
legitimate medical ends can be better attained by the use of other drugs.
We may look askance at it but it plays a very important part in the life of
both the Korean and the Chinese gentleman. To speak in every day terms
of its use in Korea, and quoting a native doctor, the drug made from white
Ginseng is used only by men, for it is too intense for women and children.
Hong Sam is given in moderate quantities to women and children because
146
it is supposed, being red, to promote the circulation and therefore the

health.
Were it not for China there would be no more trade in Ginseng
than in several other native drugs of repute; hence we may well ask,
“What gives it such value in that country?” The answer is short and
simple, but whether it is a scientific fact or not I must leave to those who
have both the opportunity to make investigation and the necessary
technical knowledge. The Chinese say that the effect of smoking opium is
to diminish the blood while Red Ginseng gives energy, strength, health
and increases the flow of blood, hence it is in very high favour as a
counteractive of opium. White Ginseng which does not act on the blood, if
taken by an opium smoker, will cause speedy death. [page 30]
A discussion having arisen concerning the medicinal qualities of Ginseng, Mr.

Gale read the following, taken from an old Chinese history:-
AN ANCIENT RECEIPT.
Take ten ounces of ginseng, cut it into small slices, put it to infuse in twenty
small porcelain vessels of spring or river water till it is thoroughly soaked and then pour
the whole into a stone or silver vessel, boiling it over a gentle fire made of mulberry wood
till half the water is wasted then having strained off the juice pour ten middling porcelain
vessels of water upon the gross substance and let them boil till they are reduced to five;
take this juice and add five cups of water to the ten vessels which you had before strained
off; boil it over a gentle fire till it comes to the consistance of an electuary (medicinal
syrup) which you may close up in a proper vessel and when you make use of it dilute it
with a liquor suitable to the disease you take it for.
147
148
Volume IV, Part II.
[page 13]
The Village Gilds of Old Korea
P. L. Gillett [Philip Loring Gillett]
[*The spelling gild rather than the more common one of guild is adopted by
nearly all writers upon this theme; e.g. H. Spenser. C. Gross Ph.D., Prof. W. J.
Ashley, Prof. F.W. Williams, Mr. Troumlin Smith Dr. L. Brentano and others.]
[**This Paper consists of extracts from a more exhaustive study of the data in
hand than the requirements of the Society allow.]
There are many economic, social and mutual benefit societies in

Korea. It is fair to say that Korean people have a genius for organization.
In a list of societies whose constitutions and records are in hand the
following varieties are noted; family and clan societies, neighborhood and
brotherhood gilds, societies for providing aid at weddings, funerals, in
sickness and in controversies. Others have for their object the conduct of
periodic feasts or picnics. There are many lottery organizations whose
functions are limited to the membership, craft gilds, merchant’s
companies and monopolistic gilds, labor organizations, village and district
governmental societies, co-operative farmer’s gilds, organizations of
villagers to guard the forests, to establish and conduct community schools
and to help poor boys prepare for the government examinations.
This paper is limited, primarily, to the organizations to be found
in the average Korean village and further to that type of village society
which attempts to enforce membership on all in the community and
exercises authority over the community. Another paper should be written
dealing with the purely “Voluntary Societies in the Villages of Old
Korea.”
The data in hand consists of the constitutions, rules and records
of twelve village gilds which attempt to govern the respective village from
149
which they were secured. Some [page 14] additional light has been thrown
upon them and their practises by the records of a score or more of
voluntary village societies and by conversations with informed villagers.
As samples of such records two are here quoted in full:
REGULATIONS OF THE TAI TONG KEI

(LARGE VILLAGE GILD) IN KWANG CHOO.
(Kwang Choo is a place of fifty houses about 20 milles from Seoul.)
The foundation of a gild is harmony of mind on the part of the

people. How, it may be asked, can they remain in harmonious mind
without obeying the doctrine of faithfulness? Because of this
consideration faithfulness may be called a constant accompaniment of
harmony. Whenever people aid each other at marriages, funerals or
sacrifices they show love and helpfulness and this certainly is the
foundation for the establishment of a gild and making the doctrine of
faithfulness to prevail.
It is a common custom of villages to furnish mutual protection
against fire and flood.
In this village there was a gild in bye-gone days but one or two
of the members did not attend to their duties properly and so it was
discontinued long ago. But some of those, who regretted that the gild was
abolished, have agreed with some others to collect money for the
establishment of the gild and they plan to prepare some exact regulations
for the gild. It is expected that all the members will love and help one
another according to the dictates of these regulations. As the object of this
gild is to secure love for parents, respect for elder brothers, loyalty to the
king and confidence among friends it is earnestly hoped that the members
will bear this is mind and never depart from the original purpose for
which the gild was established. Will it not be a thing to cause admiration
if all the members perpetually carry out these articles and never fail to
give diligent heed to their duties in the gild?
[page 15]
ARTICLES.
The object of this gild is to forward the doctrines of love for
parents, respect for elder brothers, loyalty to the king and confidence
between friends.
150
All members must trust and love one another and live in
harmony.
New members must obey the regulations and keep them always.
Each new member must pay a gild fee of 50 nyang.
Gild funds, collected from members, shall be put out at monthly
account.
It has been decided to choose only three so im (officers).
When there is work to be done in the gild the low members must
do it.
If any one join the gild for marriage and funeral benefits he must
pay a fee of 100 nyang.
Any one entering the gild for funeral benefits only shall pay 50
nyang on account of funeral benefits.
A so im who attends diligently to his duties in the gild shall not
be dismissed or changed.
Should a member have a marriage or a funeral in his house
within one year after the organization of this gild no gild money shall be
given him but subscriptions shall be made for him by the members.
When an announcement of a funeral or a marriage comes to the
gild after the expiration of the first year it must be reported first to the
three so im and then a benefit of 90 nyang shall be remitted.
Any problem of any kind that comes up in the gild shall be
decided after it has been reported to the three so im.
If any member absents himself without cause of from an
assembly of the gild when some matter is being discussed he shall have a
low punishment imposed upon him.
On all meeting days of the gild the three so im must come first to
the gild and record the members coming early or late. [page 16]
If a member is late on three meeting days he must pay a fine of
five nyang.
When funds are put at interest the borrower must provide the
names of three non-members as guarantors.
It has been decided to purchase a wedding outfit with gild money
that it may be used when there is a marriage in the village.
It has been decided that mourning outfits shall be bought at the
time when funerals are held.
When a member living in another place has a death in his
household the gild shall grant him 10 nyang instead of the mourning
outfit.
151
When a member does a wrong thing in the gild be shall be

examined and punished.
The so im must not privately forgive wrong doers among the
members when they are supposed to be punishing them.
When one of the parents of a member dies all the members must
go and condole with him in his mourning and each member must present
him with some part of a mourners outfit.
When an extra tax is collected from the members by the
magistrate it shall be paid by the funds of the gild.
Disobedience to a rule of the gild will bring a high punishment
upon the member.
When a member begins to talk before the three so im at a
meeting of the gild for consultation regarding something that has
happened in the gild a middle punishment shall be imposed upon him.
No members shall be allowed to sit in the places reserved for the
three so im and certain other elders.
If business prevents a member from attending a meeting on gild
day he should send a petition to the gild before the day of meeting and ask
the so im for leave of absence. In such a case no punishment shall be dealt
out to him.
If a person creates a disturbance when a meeting is in progress a
low punishment shall be imposed.
When there is some work to be done at the gild and a low [page 17]
member is sent to do it his food expenses shall be paid from gild funds.
If trouble arises in the village from fire, floods or thieves all the
members of the gild must assemble and render aid to the village.
When the gild members all assemble to help the village in time
of trouble any one who is absent shall be expelled from the village after he
has been severely punished.
AMOUNTS OF FINES.
High fine … … … … … … … 25 nyang.
Middle fine … … … … … … 12 〃
Low fine … … … … … … … … 7 〃
OFFICERS.
1 Chon Ui.
1 Kong Oan.
1 Yu Sa.
152
REGULATIONS USED IN THE YE CHOONG KEI.

REPORT OF THE CONSULTATION OF THE YE CHOONE KEI IN …………
We live together in this neighborhood enjoying ourselves in a

peaceful and prosperous manner, each following his own profession or
calling. For us the most important thing is kindness and harmony for we
cannot live without them for even a single day. We belive that kindness
and harmony are the product of love and righteousness.
When we are conducting some undertaking, such as a marriage
or a funeral or indeed any other affair, and whether it be hurried or
deliberate some of us fail to proceed in the proper way. There are two
reasons for this; some because they have no power or money and some
because they ignore the ceremonial methods.
In our village are many different persons; old and young,
superior and inferior, wise and stupid, strong and weak. These [page 18]
meet together at various times in interviews and discussions. In most
meetings where there are important matters relating to the village to be
discussed the persons who have power suppress the humble, the rich mock
the poor and the young jeer at the aged. Because of such things the
problems cannot be settled.
In consideration of the above matters and in order to preserve
kindness and harmony we have consulted regarding the interests of the old
and young and established this society which is called the Ye Choong Kei.
The objects of the gild are as follows:—
Any person who has to meet the expenses of a funeral or a
marriage will be aided by subscriptions and collections of money and rice
from each of the village houses.
Further matters relating to the repairing of the road and sacrifice
to the spirit of the mountain will be arranged for in the same manner.
Besides these things, any person who commits an offence against
the moral law will be made an example for the rest by the punishment of
severe blows with a whip, by requiring a monetary fine or by being
expelled from the village.
Also we have organized a society for preserving pine and other
trees that are growing in the forest so that we may have them for future
use. We have decided that anyone who cuts them shall be punished.
We sincerely hope that all of us will make up our minds to
observe these regulations and not commit a single offence. Thus love,
153
righteousness and politeness will become the sources of all virtues and our
descendents will follow us into the regions of truth and goodness.
Date ………
Place ………
Te Choong Kei.
[page 19]
BYE LAWS FOR FUNERAL RITES.
An intimation of a funeral that is to occur must be sent to the gild
house stating whether the deceased is father or mother of the member.
No intimation shall be received except in the case of the death of
the member himself or his father or mother.
Anyone who makes a mistake in writing the intimation shall be
fined 10 nyang,
If anyone gives false intimation he shall be expelled from the
gild after being punished with thirty blows.
Members of the gild shall make subscriptions after the matter has
been investigated.
The headman of the village shall be the collector of
subscriptions.
Each house shall give one toi of rice and ten nyang in money.
One of the members shall be chosen to go to the house where the
funeral is to occur to condole with the mourners.
Ten persons from the membership shall be chosen to protect the
funeral bier.
Each of the protectors shall be given five nyang for food.
Anyone of the protectors who fails to come on the appointed day
of the funeral shall be given twenty blows.
The headman of the village shall be the leader of the protectors.
The Ho Sang Cha Chi shall be given ten nyang for food.
Any of the members who refuse to make a subscription when the
collection is taken shall be punished with thirty blows of a whip and fined
50 nyang.
Five persons shall be chosen to welcome the funeral when it
returns.
Each of the five welcomers shall be given five nyang for food.
Any of the welcomers who fail to come on the day appointed
shall be given ten blows with a whip. [page 20]
154
Information shall be delivered to each member when a notice of

death arrives.
Anyone who delays in delivering the information shall be fined
10 nyang.
The information concerning the death shall be sent to the
headman of the village first.
If the headman delays in delivering the information he shall be
given thirty blows.
If the headman spends what has been collected he shall be given
thirty blows.
Any of the protectors of the bier who do not attend to their duties
shall be given thirty blows.
Any of the welcomers who do not attend to their duties shall be
given twenty blows.
If the headman spends what had been collected he must pay it
back in full after he has been punished.
BYE LAWS RELATING TO WEDDINGS.

An intimation of an intended wedding must be sent to the gild
stating therein whether it be the member’s son or daughter.
Intimations shall be accepted only in the instances of son,
daughter, grandson or grand daughter or of the member himself.
An intimation should be sent ten days before the date of the
wedding.
Any person who makes a mistake in writing an intimation shall
be fined ten nyang.
If anyone makes a false intimation he shall be expelled from the
gild after being punished with fifty blows.
The members of the gild shall makes subscriptions after an
investigation has been completed.
Each house shall subscribe one toi of rice and five nyang of
money.
The head man of the village shall be the collector of the
subscriptions.
Intimations of weddings should be first sent to the headman. [page
21]
If the headman delays in circulating the notice he shall be
punished with thirty blows.
155
After the intimation has been sent to the gild a notice shall be
forwarded to each member.
Any one who delays delivering the notice shall be fined ten
nyang.
If the headman spends what has been collected he shall be fined
50 nyang and given thirty blows.
On the wedding day one of the members shall be sent to the
house to congratulate the owner.
On the wedding day six strong men shall be sent to the house to
attend to business.
Each attendant shall be given 2 1/2 nyang for food.
Any one of the attendants who does not come on that day shall
be given 10 blows and fined ten nyang,
Any one of the attendants who does not attend to his duty shall
be given ten blows.
Any one who does not pay his subscription or who delays paying
it shall be fined 50 nyang and given 30 blows.
Any one who spends what has been collected shall pay back the
amount besides being punished.
BYE LAWS OF SACRIFICE TO THE MOUNTAIN.

The date of sacrifice shall be appointed after harvest during the
tenth month.
The object of offering sacrifice is to implore peace for the village
and a plentiful year.
A lucky day shall be chosen for the sacrifice.
The date shall be postponed if any unfortunate incident occurs in
the village such as a death or other impure matter. Another date shall be
chosen when it is postponed.
The sacrifice shall take place one month after the date is settled.
No guest shall be allowed to stay in the village after the date is
settled. If he stay one night after settling the date he [page 22] shall be
forbidden to leave until the day of sacrifice. Any guest shall be free to
leave after the sacrifice has been offered.
Any one who sends a guest away before the day of sacrifice shall
be fined 50 nyang and given 30 blows.
The preparation for the sacrifice shall be made by the villagers in
turn annually.
156
The house where the preparation is made ought to be pure and

neat.
It is forbidden to take money, grain, hemp or silk in or out of the
house of preparation.
If there is any disrespect or carelessness in the house the date of
sacrifice shall be postponed. When the date is postponed the expenses of
the next preparation shall be paid by the house of the former preparation.
Each person in the village must come up to the mountain to pray
on the day of sacrifice.
The things prepared for sacrifice are as follows:—
1 ox 3 plates of glutinous rice cake
5 kinds of fruit 1 plate of cabbage pickle
50 herrings 5 fine mats
1 plate meat broth 10 coarse mats
3 bottles of clear wine 1 incense stove and one incense box
3 jars of thick wine 3 pairs of large wax candles
1 sacrificial table 2 pairs of candle sticks
1 awning 10 torches
The expenses of preparation shall be met by collecting money
from every house or by funds remaining in the treasury of the gild.
Any one making a disturbance or behaving disrespectfully shall
be given thirty blows and fined 100 nyang.
After sacrifice the food shall be eaten by those offering it. The
remaining food shall be divided equally and sent to every house.
The headman of the village shall collect the money for the
expenses of sacrifice. [page 23]
Any one who delays in giving the collection shall be given 10
blows.
If the headman spends what has been collected he shall be given
50 blows and fined 200 nyang, besides paying back what he spends.
BYE LAWS RELATING TO MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS.

One person from every house must come to work at the time of
repairing the road. The expenses shall be met by funds remaining in the
treasury of the gild. 2 nyang shall be given to each person for food.
Any one who is absent at the time of repairing shall be given 10
blows.
157
The notice of repairing shall be delivered by the headman of the

village. If the headman delays in delivering the notice he shall be fined 50
nyang.
In the season of ploughing and hoeing the fields the work shall
be shared by all. Harvesting shall also be shared by all.
The expenses of this work shall be met by owner of the fields.
BYE LAWS RELATING TO THE PRESERVATION OF PINE TREES.

We plan to keep pine-trees growing in the forest in order that
they may be used hereafter. Any one who cuts down a large pine tree shall
be brought to the Magistrate and punished. If he cuts down from one to
ten young trees he shall be given 50 blows and fined 200 nyang. If he cuts
down large branches of pine trees he shall be given 30 blows. For cutting
small branches he shall be given 15 blows. Any one who cuts down a
large tree, not of the pine variety, shall be given 30 blows and fined 100
nyang.
If any one makes an arrangement with the wood cutter he shall
be punished equally with the cutter. [page 24]
Any one who shakes the leaves from the pine trees and collects
them shall be fined 50 nyang.
When there are pine grubs coming out in the forest the villagers
must destroy them before they become abundant. One person from every
house must take a part in the work of destroying the grubs for three day
periods in turn. Any one who is absent at the time of destroying the grubs
shall be fined 20 nyang. Any one who comes at that time must bring his
food with him.
BYE LAWS RELATING TO THE RECEIPT AND

USE OF MONEY RECEIVED FROM FINES.
Fine money shall be received in monthly installments during ten
months. Interest on fine money shall be charged at the rate of twenty
percent increase on the amount borrowed.
Any one who wishes to borrow on monthly installments must
provide three guarantors.
Any one who does not pay the installments for more than one
month shall be charged more interest. If he does not pay for three months
the guarantors shall pay the debt.
The date of receiving installments will be the 15th of every
month.
158
The expenses of matters that arise relating to the village will be

defrayed from the monthly receipts.
BYE LAWS RELATING TO PUNISHMENTS AND REPRIMANDS.

Any young man who does not respect the elders shall be given
20 blows.
Any one who insults and fights with others after drinking much
wine shall be given 30 blows.
Any one who oppresses weak persons and beats them shall be
given 10 blows.
Any one who does not come on the date the gild is opened shall
be fined 10 nyang. [page 25]
Any one who gets drunk and beats others on the date of the gild
meeting shall be fined 50 nyang.
Any one who does not obey his parents shall be expelled from
the village after receiving 50 blows.
Any one who disagrees with his brothers and quarrels with them
shall be fined 100 nyang and given 50 blows.
Any one who does not respect his friends and quarrels with them
shall be fined 30 nyang and given 30 blows.
Any one who insults and mocks this organization shall be fined
50 nyang.
Any one who harms the village by wrong doing shall be expelled
from the village.
Any one who commits a great offence against the moral law shall
be expelled from the village and brought to the magistrate for punishment.
List of those who may claim help in the case of a marriage or a
funeral
Mr. Yi, his father Mr. Nam, his granddaughter

Mr. Kim, his mother Mr. Mah, himself
Mr. Chee, his son Mr. Moon, his father
Mr. Chi, his daughter Mr. Pak, his mother
Mr. Kang, himself Mr. An, his son
Mr. Tai, his grandson Mr. Chyeng, his daughter
List of those to whom subscriptions will be given.
Mr. Yi’s house Mr. Chyeng No Mi
159
Mr. Cho Pok Nam Mr. Han’s house

Mr. Kang’s house Mr. Yi Kap Dol
There is a notable lack of uniformity among Korean villages in

the matter of government gilds. Many villages do not have such gilds.
Most villages, however do have a village assembly which chooses and is
presided over by its headman. And when a village gild is established this
assembly is ordinarily swallowed up by the gild; then the gild constitution
becomes the code of laws for the village and the gild president may
become the village headman. In at least one instance however, [page 26]
there seems to have been a dignified man nominally holding the post of
Chon In (village headman) and also a Yung Ui or Gild president who was
the acting headman of the village. Various villages have worked out this
matter of the relationship of the village assembly to the village gild in
various ways. We presume that the gild is the more developed and
complicated type of popular village government. The primary idea of the
Korean kei or gild is the use of money for mutual benefit purposes and
when adopted by the village community as a whole it adds these mutual
benefit features to the purely governmental activities of the ordinary
village assembly.
Although the village government gild is probably lacking in a
majority of Korean village the village customs which a study of these gild
records reveals, are universal and the village head-man is an always
present feature.
The writer has talked with a number of villages who admitted
that the functions of the gild as revealed by a study of the records in hand
were fully undertaken by the members of their respective communities
and they have pointed out his home or introduced me to the village
headman and the place of meeting but said there was no such gild in the
village.
The village headmen go under various titles. Some of these are
honorific and need not be discussed. The highest ranking headman is a
Myen-chang or Myen-chung. He is the headman of a myen or as we should
say in English a county. While the Myen-chang was originally elected as
spokesman by the leading villagers from all the villages in the Myen,
assembled in his presence by order of a government magistrate, this office
has not always been at the disposal of the popular assembly in the past and
the myen-chang is to become a regularly appointed government official.
[*Third Annual Report (English) of the Government of Chosen. ]
160
Another kind of headman is called a Ye Chang or head of a ye.

The ye being a district or township. There is also the Tong Chang. The
head of a tong or village. The term which [page 27] the writer has most
frequently met in the these records is Chong Ui He is ordinarily the head
of a tong. When a headman is called Yung Ui or Yung Choa it is probable
that he is president of one of these village gilds and in that capacity is
acting as village headman.
These variously named headman are indistinguishable to the
ordinary observer and are all chosen by the leading men of the community
over which they preside.
For instance Mul-Ami is a considerable village on the river not
far from Seoul. It was in close contact with the central government offices
and therefore the record showing the independent action of the village
assembly is doubly interesting. The following quotations show how their
headmen were secured:—
“Decision of the Conference held in the Year—Kap Cha, 1865.
The following decisions were made at our conference and
recorded as follows: —
It is very important that we should select two officers, one to be
the common headman (Choong-In) and the other to be a special headman
(Pyel-Im). It is the business of both of these men to see that the affairs of
the village and the government are properly carried out.
It is a very difficult thing for us to secure a headman because
when one is appointed he does not want to take the position but insists on
resigning whether or no. There are so many taxes to be collected and the
money is spent so easily. Because of these considerations we consulted
over the matter and decided that the appointment of our headman will be
reported to the magistrate after one is selected. Then he will be forced to
attend to his duty.”
Signed CHON-UI.
CHOONG-IN.
The expression, “Choose” or “Select” is used eight times in these

records in connection with securing gild officers.
The selection of gild officers is made by the villagers assembled
in their gild. Four instances can be cited. [page 28]
Moreover the village gilds undertake to control and correct their
own officers in a very different spirit than is shown by Koreans in the
submissive attitude generally assumed to toward Government officials.
161
Provision is made for the punishment by the gild of an officer;

who fails to attend to his duties. Six different places may be cited.
If a gild official is guilty of a great wrong he is turned over to the
Government. In gild number fifty three the so-im who misused gild funds
was promised severe treatment. He was to receive thirty blows with a
whip for using funds he collected for a wedding or a funeral and fifty
blows for appropriating funds collected for a sacrifice. There were also
fines imposed for these transgressions.
The village gild outside the South Gate of Seoul ordained that
any officer who failed to come to a meeting of the Tai-Pang when there
was business to be considered should be expelled from the society.
The question as to who constituted the membership of the gild
which thus chose and controlled its officers becomes a relatively
important one.
Among the twelve sets of records in hand there are a number of
instances in which a portion only of the village community have held
consultations and taken the initial steps in organizing or reorganizing a
village gild.
In the Kwang Choo regulations the following sentences appear in
the introduction;
“In this village there was a gild in bye gone days but one or two
of the members did not attend to their duties properly and so it was
discontinued long ago. But some of those who regretted that the gild was
abolished have agreed with some others to collect money for the
establishment of the gild.”
Document number twenty six [*When Gild constitutions are
referred to by number the latter indicates its position in a file of gild records
collected by the writer.] opens with the statement.
“The object of this circular is to afford the information that [page
29] certain persons in the town have nothing to rely on and have therefore
decided to establish a gild in order that they may help each other in
trouble.”
In number thirty five appears the clause.
“Certain gentlemen who reside in this town have decided to
establish a town gild.”
One page of the gild book of the Kak Sin Society has the names
of thirty two of the leading men of the place written as the reorganizers of
their gild.
162
The first thought that comes after reading these quotations is that
these four gilds at least were limited to a part of the resident villagers but
in the Kwang Choo regulations there are, among other broad stipulations,
some regarding the fighting of fire, flood and thieves on behalf of the
entire village. Number twenty six requires every house in the village to be
registered on its roll and in number thirty-five it appears that the “Certain
gentlemen” mentioned are organizing the gild on behalf of the
poverty-stricken villagers at large. At Kak Sin the terms for gild and
village and those for members and villagers are used without
discrimination and at certain times each household is required to make
subscriptions upon orders coming from the gild. In these four places gild
membership or at least the jurisdiction of the gild was not limited to a
portion of the local villagers. A further consideration of the material at
hand bears out the conclusion that the village government gild was
generally co extensive with the population or at least included the heads of
all households.
At An Sung “some well-known citizens” established the gild but
the regulations provide for, “All the people of all the villages” taking part
and further state that, “If any of the people refuse in any particular to obey
the regulations their wrong doing shall be reported to the magistrate’s
office after they have been severely punished.” One of the sections reads,
“The names of the inhabitants of every village must be recorded on the
roll.”
One of the uppermost reasons that a gild was desired in [page 30]
some village outside the South Gate of Seoul, whose name we do not
know, was that the young did not show proper respect to their elders and
the gild was considered a suitable weapon for bringing the body of young
men in the village to becoming manners. “We in the Orient,” wrote the
organizers, “formerly followed the laws of ceremony and were advanced
but these features have been driven away and lately there is no difference
between the old men and the young men. How can we help but be very
sad?” This gild also identifies itself with the entire village by announcing
that if any one transgresses this law (of respect for elders) the village
people will assemble and punish the transgressor with thirty blows of a
whip on the back. The gild further legislates certain actions for all the
residents.
When gild number fifty-three assembled there was sometimes
difficulty to decide questions because of the mixed character of the
assembly. There were, “Old and young,” “Superior and inferior,” “Wise
163
and stupid,” “Strong and weak,” “Those who had power and the humble,”
“The rich and the poor.” A reading of this document makes it quite plain
that the entire neighbourhood belonged.
Interesting information as to the number and kinds of meetings
held by these gilds; the names of officers and their duties; the methods of
punishment and the offences dealt with; the means of securing and
handing finances and the interrelation of branches might be compiled but
the limits of this paper require its restriction to the functions of these
societies.
The village gild is frequently the agent for carrying on the
complete system of village goverment.
The introductory circular to number twenty-six contains the
words, “It,” the gild, “will also provide regulations governing everything
that is done in the village.”
Paragraph eleven from the regulations of the Ye-Choong-Kei at
An Sung suggests that the gild took all things that occurred within the
village under its jurisdiction. This paragraph reads.
“The three officers assume their duties monthly in turn [page 31]
and make a monthly record and report of matters that occur in the town
and in the gild. They shall report all to the Five Kang Soo, who shall
decide all questions of lighter import. When a question is of too great
importance for the five Kang Soo to decide they shall refer the matter to
the Tong Chang. Should the matter be of too great weight for the Tong
Chang he shall report it to the Chip Kang. Thus all the people in the
village will be subject to the authority of the Chon Ui and be governed by
his orders.”
The village gild pays two kinds of taxes to the central
Government. We note that four of the twelve organizations, whose records
we are considering, collect assessments from individual residents or
secure them from some other source and pay taxes to the government or
government officials on behalf of the community as a whole.
The constitution of the Kak Sin gild says that when high or low
Government officials come to the place each house must subscribe two
mal of unshelled rice and three chun in money. It also states that such
officials shall be given their morning and evening meals with the cost of
tobacco and wine.
In Mul-Ami the gild paid out funds to Government officials on a
long list of pretexts, some were for the personal needs of the officials and
164
some were for purely governmental purposes. We copy a few of the more
striking ones;
“To purchase husks and sediment of grain for feeding the cattle
offered every month to the magistrate.”
“The cost of meals for the writer (ajun) in the magistrates office
during five months of every year.”
“The customary offering to the servants of the census bureau.”
“For expenses when the magistrate’s writer comes with drivers
and coolies to examine the people. (Five tone for the drivers, five tone for
the coolies and the balance for the writer.)”
“In lieu of a uniform for the writer in the magistrates office.”
“Expenses for drink for the servants of the office of the royal
funeral bearers at the time of roll call.” [page 32]
“Customary offering to the magistrate once in four years to feed
his yellow dog.”
“Customary offering for feeding the magistrate’s pigs, etc., etc.”
It is no surprise to find in the introduction to these regulations
from Mul-Ami the statements, “The village is poverty stricken……… We
are unable to support ourselves because of the taxes.”
In addition to the above type of taxes paid by the gild we observe
that the gild was an agent for collecting and remitting private taxes. The
Kwang Choo regulations contain the statement;
“When an extra tax is collected from the members by the
magistrate it shall be paid by the funds of the gild.”
The An Sung regulations read,
“All inhabitants in all villages are accustomed to delay the
payment of their land and house taxes to the Government office, therefore
it has been decided that new regulations shall be made saying that the
chief district justice (the Chon Ui)……… shall take charge of collecting
the taxes in all the villages……… also that house land taxes shall be
collected up to the first of the twelfth month of each year. However as
some of the people find it very difficult to finish paying the taxes before
that time the so-im of the town shall take charge of the balance of the
taxes. It is earnestly hoped that all the people in all the villages will be
careful not to cause the magistrate to make trouble and will for this reason
pay up their taxes before the people of other districts do so.” Not only did
the gild collect and remit the taxes in this latter village but it even
advanced the tax of certain villagers who were in hard circumstances.
165
In Yong In the tax list was kept along with other gild records by
gild officials. This gild also has an officer known as the tax collector.
Among a number of local public works undertaken by these
societies is the keeping of the local roads in repair. [page 33]
These roads are seldom more than good sized cow paths running
upon the dykes or on the ridges between fields in such places as the whim
of local circumstances has chosen to locate the bounderies of possessions.
The central Government has at times done some thing to build roads for
royal progresses. These however, were too frequently between the palace
and the site of a royal ancestral tomb and only incidentally of commercial
and practical benefit. Local magistrates occasionally did something in
bridge building and sent orders to villages to repair the roads in their
locality but in general all activity in this particular line was left to the
autonomy of individual villages. The keeping of these local highways or
the local section of a through highway in repair was generally considered
the concern of the village assembly or gild but in only one of the sets of
records before us is this function mentioned. It reads as follows:
“One person from every house must come to work at the time of
repairing the road. The expenses shall be met by funds remaining in the
treasury of the gild. Two nyang shall be given to each person for food.”
“Any one who is absent at the time of repairing shall be given ten
blows.”
“The notice of repairing shall be delivered by the headman of the
village. If the headman delays in delivering the notice he shall be fined
fifty nyang.”
The maintenence of the live timber near the villages was often
undertaken by separate voluntarily organized tree protecting gilds. The
writer has the written regulations of three such in hand and while it is
probable that this function may have ofter come under the province of the
village gild, as in the case of road repairing, only one speaks of it in its
regulations. It has already been quoted in the sample given.
Four of these twelve sets of records speak of helping at fires as a
function of the gild, making the following stipulations:
“All gild members must assemble and render aid when fire [page
34] breaks out.” In Kwang Choo a member was liable to expulsion from
the village if he did not do so.
Gild number fifty four provided a grant from gild funds for a
member whose house had burned down, and in the records of gild number
166
twenty six it reads. “The materials that shall be given from each house
when a calamity of fire has occurred to one of the members shall be:
One wooden pillar.

Certain additional specified pieces of timber.
A certain number of bundles of straw.
A certain number of bundles of straw string.
A given amount of money for building expenses.
A certain number of measures of rice.
“It has been decided that each of the members must come with a
workman and help rebuild the house of a man who has met calamity from
fire.”
Three of the documents speak of aid when danger or disaster
from floods arise. In Kwang Choo and in the gild outside the South Gate
of Seoul all members were required to assemble and help the village at
such a time.
These gilds ordinarily organize the villagers for united resistance
to marauding bands of robbers for there has been a great deal of organized
robbery in Korea. Especially in Winter and in years of scarcity bands of
robbers are numerous.
All gild members must assemble, when robbers come, and aid in
driving them away.
The conditions under which the alliance, number fourty, was
organized is an illustration of this condition in a pronounced form. The
community seems to have been divided between the robber group and the
village group and neither was without blame in its actions.
It is customary in villages for the gild to concern itself with all
cases of a criminal character and settle minor ones without taking them to
a Government official. But when the transgression is of sufficient
flagrancy for the officers of the gild or [page 35] the assembled body of
villagers to conclude it should be punished more severely than they are
ready to undertake the criminal is handed over to a Government
magistrate. The general wish of the gild is to facilitate the magistrate in
his duty of keeping order and to undertake only such services as are
otherwise left undone.
In the administration of justice and keeping the public peace the
gild resorts to the following methods of enforcing its will;
167
It assembles the entire community to act on cases of lawlessness

among its membership. It imposes monetary fines, whippings and
expulsion from the village.
A system of policing and self government by means of dividing
the community into five or ten house groups was at one time copied from
China and universally employed in Korea. There are still instances of its
use in the practises of these village societies and in other gilds. In an
ancient Chinese classic, the Chou Li, which describes conditions under the
Chou dynasty some centuries before Christ, this scheme is outlined.
[*Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. xxxi, Pt. ii, 1911, Pg. 192.
Article by Prof. K. Asakawa, Ph.D. entitled “Notes on Village Government in
Japan.”] It provides for the division of households into groups of five with
one of the householders appointed as leader and responsible to the village
headman for the acts of the members of the five households under his
jurisdiction. mention is made of this system of administration on the stone
drums in the gateway of the temple of Confucious in Peking. These drums
are said to be the most ancient monuments in China. [*Guide Book to
Peking containing translation of the writing on the stone drums of the Confucian
Temple.] In Japan this system has been embodied in the local governments
and was generally enforced during and after the reform of 645 A.D.
[*Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. xxx, Pt. iii, 1910, Pg. 267.
Article by Prof. K. Asakawa, PhD. entitled, “Notes on Village Government in
Japan.”] On the continent of Europe and in Old England also are to be
found evidences of [page 36] the same method of keeping the peace in local
communities. [*Pamphlet entitled, “Two Chapters on Mediaeval Guilds of
England,” Pgs. 13, 14. Prof. R. A. Seligman. ] It is interesting in the light of
these facts to read the following from the regulations of document number
seventeen;
“It has been decided to form an organization uniting houses into
groups of five for mutual protection. This is according to the instructions
of the mayor (Pu-Yung) and the imperial order.”
“When a person living in a group of five houses commits a
wrong he shall be severely punished. If the wrong doer does not take his
punishment the tong-soo, leader, of the five houses in which he lives shall
be punished in his stead.”
“If rowdies cause trouble without having just cause for doing so
all the people in the group shall help to drive them away from the town
and report the matter to the government office.”
168
“It has been decided to forbid drinking and gambling and if any
one commits a sin he shall be reported to the government office and the
tong-soo of the house where he lives shall be punished, etc.”
The officers whose names are attached to this document are all of
them dependent on popular choice for their posts. A number of well
informed Koreans have told the writer that this system was at one time
quite generally enforced in Korea by order of the Central Government. In
the village of An Sung a number of hamlets were scattered around a larger
central nucleus, in all containing one hundred houses with about five
hundred people. In order to properly control the outlying districts a plan
similar to this system was adopted. It reads as follows;
“It has been decided to select a number of the members and place
some in every village as private inspectors of the people. Each of these
officers shall have oversight of ten houses and if any of them fail to report
the wrong doing of those under their inspection the responsibility shall be
thrown [page 37] upon the Cha-Chi of the gilds. Wherefore it is hoped that
all the inspectors will attend faithfully to their duties.”
“It has been decided to send gild members to the surrounding
villages in this district and there establish village gilds. Yu Yer Pak shall
be sent to the northern part of the district to take charge of the villages in
that direction.”
“It has been decided to send a Cha Chi to Yun Chon village
where there are twelve houses and examine the residents to see if they
pass their time quietly without creating distributions. If so they shall
receive a special reward but if not all the people from all the villages must
assemble and consult as to how the people in those houses should be
punished.”
It will be noted that in both of the latterly quoted places the
policing of the towns was a main object in view.
The functions thus far discribed are such as are ordinarily
considered within the sphere of a municipal or village government. There
are some of a mutual benefit character which are also accomplished by
these societies.
For example the rendering of aid at funerals. The Confucian
emphasis on the ceremonial in funerals demands the expenditure of so
much time and money that it is practically impossible for any but the
wealthy Korean to conduct one of these ceremonies in a commendable
manner. This fact has given prominence to those organizations which
undertake to command the attendance of a body of mourners and promise
169
a grant of funds in aid at such times. Funeral and marriage benefit

societies are numerous in Korea and while only six of the twelve whose
records we have, speak of affording aid at funerals it is probable that in
every small village represented on the list the members of the gild have
constantly given aid to each other at these times of “Gladness and
annoyance” as they are called. In the larger villages such as Mul-Ami the
village government assembly was probably supplemented by a number of
voluntary yun ban or funeral societies in the accomplishment of this
function. These societies would be organized by members of the same
trade or artizan’s organization or commercial [page 38] gild. Sometimes a
group of neighbors form one and most frequently brotherhood or friendly
societies of men of kindred mind undertake to aid each other in this way.
The author has a number of the records of each of these types of village
organizations. Various Christian churches in Seoul are said to have
recently established them among their respective groups of members. In
the small country villages the entire community organized into its village
gild seems to have undertaken the task of thus co-operating in these times
of financial stress.
A grant of money or rice is given to the member at whose house
a funeral is to be held. This grant is sometimes made from funds that have
been gradually accumulated from fees and regular dues as an endowment
or it may be made by taking up a subscription, at the time of the funeral,
from each gild member. Taking and giving funeral benefits is in some
instances optional with a gild member, depending on the nature of his
membership. Aid in the matter of articles of mourning outfit is sometimes
granted.
The gild requires that its members shall go to the home where
death has come and condole with the household.
Men are provided to aid at the funeral.
Men to go forth and ceremonially meet those returning from a
burial are provided.
Proper forms of announcements must be followed.
The gild provides a funeral director.
The gild may pay the expenses of the men it sends to aid at a
funeral.
The same kind of financial burdens that come with funerals are
attendants upon wedding ceremonies, although not quite so heavy, and the
presence and aid of many friends is also a desideratum. Three of the
170
twelve societies under consideration definitely speak of rendering aid at

weddings.
Grants of money or rice are made from the gild treasury, or
subscriptions of rice and money from each fellow member are promised.
Some gilds loan a regular wedding outfit which it keeps [page 39] on hand
for the use of members on such occasions. A gild representative is
ordinarily sent to ceremonially offer congratulations on the wedding day.
Strong men, probably palanquin bearers, were promised as aids on the
wedding days in one society. Proper forms of announcement must be
followed and in gild number fifty-three, at least, the wedding benefits are
restricted to the marriage of the son, daughter, grandson and
granddaughter of a member or to the member himself.
Travelers in the interior of Korea have noted that the farmers
work in considerable groups at the busy times of the year. Such groups
may be voluntary organizations known as farmers gilds having written
constitutions such as the twelve we are considering, or as in the case of
number fifty three this work may he done under the direction of a village
government organization. The constitution of this society reads.
“In the season of plowing and hoeing the fields the work shall be
shared by all. Harvesting shall also be shared by all. The expenses of this
work shall be met by the owners of the fields.”
In gild number fourty the document reads.
“It has been decided to render assistance in times of trouble and
when public or private controversies arise.”
Also in gild constitution number twenty-six the first paragraph
reads.
“Certain persons in the town have nothing to rely on and have
therefore decided to establish a gild in order that they may help each other
in trouble.”
The expression “In trouble” in this latter clause may not mean as
much as in the first quotation but the frequency of the practise of utilizing
organized groups of people to stand by each other in the securing of
justice, collection of debts or in resisting collectors of debts, sometimes in
securing protection from the oppressions of officials of the Government
and in many similar coercive acts, more or less commendable in their
intent, lead the student to interpret these clauses as showing that the
village gild is sometimes used us a weapon in individual community
quarrels. [page 40]
171
The records of some of the commercial and craft gilds as well as

of friendly societies describe in detail the methods pursued by the
membership at such times.
In discussing the religious features, that seem to be rather
prominent in village gilds, there are two lines of consideration suggested,
one is the use which the gild makes of the sanctions of the Confucian cult
and the other is the worship of the tutelary spirit of the village.
Five of the twelve documents speak of conducting community
sacrifices to “The mountain,” to “The guardian spirit of the mountain” or,
to “The spirit of the mountain.” Number thirty-five speaks of collecting its
outstanding loans and holding a feast in the Autumn at the same time that
the other four have their general sacrifices and feast. Three speak of
holding their sacrifices in the Fall. Two specifying the tenth month. The
third of holding theirs in the Spring and Autumn.
Part of the expenses of the sacrifice were met from gild funds
and part from subscriptions of members in the village of Yong In. A
sorceress was empolyed. Three hundred nyang from the gild treasury was
given and each member of the village had to subscribe three measures of
rice.
In Kak Sin the expenses were met by enforced subscriptions from
each household and in gild fifty three appears the ruling.
“The Expenses of preparations shall be met by collecting money
from every house or by funds remaining in the treasury of the gild.”
Villagers were required not only to take a part in the
subscriptions but in the sacrificial service as well. One specifying a
punishment of ten blows on the back for absence. After the sacrificial
ceremony was over the food was eaten on the spot by the villagers or
taken to their homes. Gild number fifty-three has the fullest description of
the system of village sacrifices Its regulations may be noted in the second
of the two sample constitutions given in this paper.
The gild acts as an aid to the Central Government by providing
[page 41] the local administration in villages which the national
Government failed to give.
The inability of the old central Government of Korea to establish
and maintain a system that secured the proper administration of affairs in
local communities, especially when they were at some distance from
provincial capitals or magistracies, constituted one reason for the
existence of the system of village self government societies. The perusal
of the documents in hand shows that four at least of these societies
172
originated or were reorganized under conditions of pronounced

lawlessness. Moreover a purpose of securing peace and harmony is
prominent in the records of nearly all the rest of the villages herein
represented. The constitution of the gild at Yong In starts out by saying.
“The cause for these regulations is that towns in various districts
lack fixed regulations and the people therein have found it very difficult to
decide cases arising among themselves, wherefore the citizens in every
town ought to assemble and consult about establishing an organization
called a town gild and furthermore they should help each other so as to
prevent those evil practices which are happening in every place.”
The constitution of the An Sung gild begins.
“The purpose of this article is to say that the people of the town
have no regulations handed down from generation to generation and spend
their time in wine drinking and making disturbances in various places.
The five or six hundred people living in the one hundred houses of the
villages are in trouble and the town is in the verge of being broken up.
Because of these things some of the well known citizens have decided to
establish a town gild in various parts that those making disturbances may
be tranquilized.”
At Kak Sin the introduction reads:
“In its purpose of government the monthly gild has gradually
failed and this is a cause for regret. The village of Kak Sin has
degenerated more and more. Wherefore the government [page 42] officials
have made frequent visits and much trouble has resulted to the village.
Various persons have denounced innocent residents to the officials and
both the officials and the false accusers have taken their money. The
villagers have not been respected . . . . . . . Wherefore this Constitution has
been written and hereafter the people will meet with bad fortune or good
fortune according to their acts.”
Frequent notice has been taken of gild number fourty where the
people in various villages were bothered by bands of thieves. The
introduction reads.
“By the regulations of this alliance it has been ordered that some
virtuous and elegant men shall be chosen from the people of each of the
villages as Myen-Chang and Myen-Chung and Ye-Chang and Ye-Chung.
After they are chosen these elders must assemble all the people in the
towns and consult about organizing an alliance against thieves.”
This latter gild record evidently comes from a place far distant
from an official center. Each of the other three quoted is also from a more
173
or less isolated village or group of villages but the one at Kak Sin is within
reach of some official post By comparing these with the gild at Mul-Ami,
which is a large village in the suburbs of Seoul, the difference in their
problems will be noted. Mul-Ami and Kak-Sin are burdened by the
demands of officialdom and are organized to act in concert in fulfilling the
demands of and resisting officials. Mul-Ami pays twenty-four different
kinds of taxes to officials and Kak-Sin is so unmercifully “squeezed” that
no one will serve as headman. The other villages reap none of the
advantages of such police regulations as are maintained near official posts
and are therefore struggling to organize protection for themselves.
There is nothing essentially unpatriotic or of a rebellious nature
in any of these records. Some of the communities are greatly oppressed by
officialdom but the ideal of loyalty to the Government is always evident.
Number forty alone furnishes suspicions of high handed proceeding not in
keeping with the commendable spirit prevailing elsewhere. But however
true [page 43] this may be in general, the village gild often resisted
individual Government officials. Note the following paragraph from the
An Sung gild.
“When some of the people from the village have a verbal request
to make of an official……… All the people from every village must
gather and reach a decision after consulting about the matter.”
“In Kak Sin a pitiful plight was reached and partly because of
official oppression. The organizers of the local gild were of the opinion
that it was because of lack of unity on the part of the villagers that this had
come about. They said that happy conditions would be, “the result of the
people in the village uniting their minds and helping one another………
then the village,” the wrote, “will be without trouble and the business of
farming and handing merchandise will proceed peacefully, etc.” The
opening sentences describe the sad conditions into which they had fallen.
“The village of Kak Sin has degenerated more and more.
Wherefore the Government officials have made frequent visits and much
trouble has resulted to the village. Various persons have denounced
innocent residents to the officials and both officials and the false accusers
have taken their money……… The village headman refuses to serve for
he who assumes the office of headman will see his house and family meet
misfortune and will have no place to complain about his difficulties.” That
is to say he cannot get help from the Government for it is the Government
officials who oppress him. After describing the effort to reorganize the
regulations go on.
174
“When the Government officials come to the village we make no

promise to provide them with anything but morning and evening meals
and with the cost of tobacco or wine and if any official makes trouble by
seizing a person’s money the latter should come immediately and report to
the gild. To officials who move about the place when not on official
business none of the above mentioned things will be given.”
It required some temerity to put in writing such a decision, [page
44] and affix their names to it but the thirty two leading men of the village,
who composed the meeting for the reorganization of the gild, adopted the
device called “signing in bowl,” that is, they wrote their names in a
perfect circle. Thus there was no head of the list who could be called to
account by a Government official.
The general government recognized and utilized the village gild
system. In general the magistrates in all parts of Korea seem to have
accepted en toto the system of the village gild and recognized its chosen
headman as the responsible representative. The officials probably did not
admit of any curtailment of their authority to depose or refuse to have
dealings with any individuals who might be chosen to these posts by their
respective communities, yet as a matter of fact, the village choice was in
general accepted by the government officials. The books containing the
constitutions of these societies were sometimes stamped with the
government stamps in the general government offices at Seoul.
175
176
Volume IV, part III. 1913.
[page 1]
Marriage Customs of Korea.

By Arthur Hyde Lay.
Dr. Gale has invited me to furnish the Society with a paper before I go
home and as you were so good as to honour me by making me President
last year, I feel that I ought to do something in response to his request. I
have accordingly looked up and revised a few notes which I put together
some years ago on Marriage Customs in Corea, and though only dealing
with the question in a very rough way, they may perhaps be of some
interest.
Many curious marriage customs are to be found in Corea.
According to the station in life of the parties and the locality, differences
of course exist, but the ceremonials observed are all founded upon the
same general plan adopted from China. In Volume VI of the China
Review there is an interesting article on Chinese Marriages which
illustrates this fact.
It was generally held in ancient times that a boy should marry
from fifteen upwards. This is stated in the Si Hang Kalye H’wi Chan
(時行簡禮彙纂). In the Sa-rye Pyöl-lam (四禮復覽) written by the great
scholar Yi Chai early in the 18th Century the age is put as 15 to 20. But
nevertheless owing, no doubt, to the longing for male offspring to take
their part in ancestral worship the practice of marrying very young came
into vogue. Often a son had not long made his appearance in the world
before the parents began to cast their eyes around in search of his future
wife, and indeed, there were instances where unborn babes were pledged
in matrimony. Among the wealthy marriage took place as a rule when the
children were ten or eleven years old, and an Aged Father with a young
son liked to see him settled in this way as early as might be. With ordinary
people, however, it was usual to [page 2] allow the children to attain the age
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Marriage Customs of Korea
of fifteen or sixteen before they entered upon the married state, though
their partners were probably selected a long time before.
The system of early marriages was productive of much misery.
Apart from the young people themselves who were the principal sufferers,
the burden of support fell at times upon the eldest brother, the father being
dead. A Corean who was thus called upon not only to maintain his
younger brother, but further to provide him with a wife with additional
attendant expenses, once complained to me bitterly of the hardship
involved.
A change for the better was, however, effected when the legal
age which persons must attain prior to marriage was fixed by an Imperial
Order, issued on August 14, 1907 at full seventeen years and full fifteen
years in the case of a man and of a woman respectively, just as in Japan
under Article 765 of the Civil Code. The Order ran that it was a famous
law of the three ancient dynasties (Ha, Eun, Ju) that men had their wives
when they were thirty years old, and women their husbands when twenty
years old. Early marriage being an evil which nowadays had resulted in
national weakness, an instruction had been given in recent years
forbidding them, but owing to the mistake of the Authorities this had not
been put into force. At the time of restoration it was an urgent matter that
customs be improved, and so the age was fixed as indicated. The
prohibition referred to is contained in resolution No. 7 of the Deliberative
Assembly of July 30, 1894.
As to the present system of registration for Corean marriages,
they must be reported, in accordance with a Census Registration Law
promulgated by the late Corean Government in 1909, by the head of the
family to the local Village Headman Myun Jang, (面長) within ten days.
The latter then forwards the report for record to the Police Station where
the census registers are kept and the business of registration is conducted.
Now that Corea is part of Japan the tendency is growing to conform to
Japanese ideas in the matter of marriage ceremonials. [page 3]
Missionary influence having made itself largely felt in this as in
other directions throughout Corea, many marriages are conducted in
accordance with the rites of the various Christian Bodies.
As a general rule marriage does not take place between families
of the same surname possessing the same ancestral homes-pon (本). One
hears, however, of persons of the same name such as Kim (金), Yi (李),
&c. intermarrying, the reason being that their pon differ. On the other
hand, there are cases where those of different surnames are not permitted
178
to marry each other, because they are said to trace their origin to a
common source.
Young people are not consulted as to their inclinations: in fact
they have seldom even seen one another before becoming husband and
wife. The parents exercise supreme authority in the matter. Hence much
affinity or romantic affection cannot be looked for. The writer was,
however, once given to understand by a Corean of the Yangban class, that
second marriages were as a rule love matches, at least on the man’s side.
His opportunity to please himself in selection had come, but as objections
were entertained among parents to allowing their girls to become the
wives of widowers, the choice often required to be made from a lower
stratum of society. Against a widow a much more marked prejudice used
to exist with the result that she was made to feel the extreme impropriety
of her forsaking the memory of her late husband by being regarded as
occupying the position merely of a secondary wife. Prior to the reign of
King Sung Jong who ascended the throne in 1469 widows had been
allowed to remarry, but His Majesty gave orders that the practice should
be discontinued. On July 30, 1894 it was resolved by the Deliberative
Assembly that widows might remarry (resolution No. 8).
Let us suppose that a youth had reached the age at which his
parents considered it advisable that he should be wedded. Having first of
all ascertained by private enquiry that a certain maiden was likely to prove
suitable as regards appearance and [page 4] the other requirements of
eligibility they resorted to the indirect negotiation so favoured in the Far
East. That important and useful personage, the gobetween who may be of
either sex, CHUNGMAI (中媒), called also MAIPA (媒婆), in the case of a
woman, was deputed to undertake the delicate task of broaching the
subject to the young lady’s parents. Were it intended to take the proposal
into serious consideration, the latter for their part despatched their own
delegate to the house of the would-be father-in-law to ascertain the
qualifications of the young man. The preliminary investigations having
been concluded to mutual satisfaction, formal negotiations were
proceeded with at once in a business like manner. For the sake of
illustration, we shall describe what is likely to occur. The details which we
give are taken from a case we know of which occurred about 5 or 6 years
ago, and of course the interval between each stage in the proceedings may
vary according to circumstances.
Let us say that in the 5th month — at that time the Coreans still
adhered to the old Chinese calendar — the work of the intermediary is
179
concluded. On the 13th day of the 6th month the first important step is
taken by the parents of the future bridegroom. This consists in sending the
SAJU (四柱) — a document wherein are inscribed the four sets of two
characters each, specifying the year, month, day and hour of birth of the
son — to the Father of the chosen one. Now the Saju represents a
marriage note handed over for the purpose of ratifying the agreement. In
reply, twelve days later, comes a letter bearing the words Yon-gil (捐吉)
on the envelope, which is known as the TAIK IL (擇日) (choosing the day),
naming the date of the marriage. Then both families commence earnest
preparation for the approaching event. On the last day of the month the
fiance makes himself ready for his new honours by going through the
ceremony of doing up his hair, KWAL LE (冠禮), the hair being arranged
by some one specially selected as being a lucky person. In the days before
hair cutting came into fashion, an unmarried youth in Corea was
distinguished by [page 5] bare head and hair tied in a plait falling down his
back, and to do up the hair and put on a hat, to get married, and to become
a man were three things interdependent. With the putting up of the top
knot a new name KWAMMYUNG (冠名) is bestowed on the lad. At the
same time he puts on the POKGON (幅巾) or silk gauze cap worn by boys
at weddings and the CHORIP (草笠) or straw hat, in use by newly wedded
youths. Sometimes indeed a man put up his hair without being married but
this was done unostentatiously and was considered in the highest degree
improper.
The prospective bridegroom having thus observed all the
formalities necessary to entering upon man’s estate, the marriage deed or
contract is drawn up by his father for presentation to the other contracting
party. The document approximately runs thus:-
“With double reverences I, So and So, descendant of such an One,
present my respectful wishes on this……day of the year…… for Your
Honour’s manifold happiness, and hereby humbly agree, with your
gracious favour and permission to your daughter’s becoming the wife of
my son……who is of age and a bachelor. It is the custom of our
ancestors and wedding presents are bestowed. With respectful wishes I
offer this document and beg that you will note its contents.” On the
envelope is inscribed the name of the Father of the bride elect.
This instrument together with the Saju (四柱) and the Taik-il
(擇日) constituted the record of the marriage; for in Corea there was
formerly no system of public registration of weddings, a fact which in my
early days in Corea a Corean official of a reforming turn of mind
180
stigmatized to me as regrettable, expressing the hope that, in view of the

grave inconvenience entailed, some proper method of recording such
events might before long be introduced. The available documents
therefore were doubly precious and as such carefully preserved. It was
commonly said that they should be kept till the daughter had brought forth
at least one son, though the [page 6] advent of three sons was said to be
necessary before they could be disregarded, the idea being that male
children consolidated the position of the wife by arousing the regard of the
husband on the one hand and on the other by anchoring the woman to the
spot where her sons lived. Before such an auspicious event the man might
desire to dismiss her arbitrarily or she might be inclined to run away
through lack of any retaining influence. Should, however, the wife leave
of her own accord or be sent away for any reason, the contract was given
back.
As to the gifts to which reference is made, they are called
NAPCHAI (納釆) or NAPPEI (納幣), presents of silk. Custom regulates
their quantity and quality in accordance with position. In the instance we
are considering they consist of two pieces of Chinese silk, one of a blue
colour wrapped up in red paper, the other red and folded in blue paper and
two skeins of silk thread, one blue, the other red, to correspond with the
stuff. A girl who marries a bachelor wears the red garment outside and the
blue underneath, but where her consort is a widower the order of the
garments is reversed. Along with the marriage deed enveloped in a cloth,
these offerings are placed within a black lacquer box enclosed in two
coverings of red cloth. In some cases, however, two boxes are used to
contain the gifts, one black, the other red. Thus the parcel is conveyed to
its destined recipients during the evening of the 12th day of the 7th month,
the eve of the wedding day which has itself been selected as propitious by
the aid of an expert in the art of choosing lucky days. In the country the
gifts are usually sent on the wedding day, not the previous evening. In
order to conform to precedent the ceremonial of presentation calls for the
services of a box carrier for whom the orthodox dress is a red overcoat
with hat of the same colour and black shoes. In some parts of the interior
the coat is blue-black with hat to match. He is accompanied by four
lantern-carriers in black coats, and six or seven torch-bearers. The
procession is met by torchmen from the other house and escorted to its
goal where the casket is deposited upon a table placed in readiness.
[page 7] Thither as early next morning at 7.30 the bridegroom
elect sets out to take part in the appointed ceremony. In full court cap,
181
dress and shoes he is seated upon a white horse, gorgeously caparisoned

— we are citing as an example the case of a bachelor, for though he has
the alternative of making the journey in a chair carried by four men, a
widower should never go on horse back. In front, walk two servants
carrying paper umbrellas, and the rider is attended by a groom in black
coat and hat. The train is further composed of one of his relatives acting as
bestman on a steed of some description, it matters not what, two pairs of
lantern carriers — the rich sometimes have ten pairs or so — a goose
carrier clad in red, the same individual who has already taken the presents,
bearing the live bird, the emblem of conjugal fidelity, wrapped in a red
cloth — or a wooden figure in the form of a goose may be employed —
six female servants clothed in upper garments of green and lower
garments of blue and a YUMO (乳母) or nurse in a two-man chair. It must
here be mentioned that most of the costumes and other things required in
connection with a marriage are only borrowed for the occasion. In Seoul
and other large cities there are establishments which make it their
exclusive business to keep such articles for hire. In some country places
the outfit is village property and as such is at the disposal of the residents
free of charge. Neighbouring villagers wishing to share its use are
compelled to pay.
One of the bride’s male relations, say some ten years older than
the bridegroom, welcomes him coming thus with proper pomp and
circumstance. The latter bows once in silence and the other merely bends
his body slightly in return. Bows are exchanged when the relative
positions of the two men are approximately equal. Arrived at the house
the party enters the courtyard which is shaded from the sun’s rays. Care
must be taken by the future husband and those with him on first
admittance to avoid violating the Chu-dang (周堂) or prohibition against
being found by evil spirits in such part of the premises as they may
happen to be frequenting. Similarly with the wife [page 8] when she makes
her debut in her new home. Inside the fence or wall a small table is
prepared for the reception of the goose. The bridegroom then goes through
the prescribed ceremony. The bird is handed to him by its bearer, and
having assumed a position at a convenient distance, he holds it in his arms,
takes three steps forward and deposits it upon the table, then stepping
backward in like manner, with the assistance of the man in charge of the
goose, performs two obeisances in its direction in token of his desire that
the faithfulness of which it is the embodiment may rest upon his union.
The next scene takes place within the house. The bridal table,
182
TOK-JA-SANG (독자상), before which the pair plight their troth, has been
spread with specially prepared meats consisting of a male chicken, cooked,
with a red date in its mouth and a dish of red dates before it, a female
chicken, cooked, having in its mouth a white chestnut with the skin peeled
off, and in front of it a dish of raw chestnuts, and also a plate of
moon-shaped cakes, twenty-one in number. At two corners of the table are
wooden candlesticks with lighted candles of wax and at the other corners
are TONGJA (童子) or wooden images representing children. Behind the
table is a high screen to conceal the bride till she comes forth to
commence her acquaintance with a strange person of the opposite sex.
The man having taken up his station, she appears in bridal array, wearing
a wedding cap, CHYOKDORI (族頭里) and clad in a WON-SAM (圓衫), a
kind of cloak which is also used as a shroud at her burial, having a dragon
headed hair pin in her hair, and she stands at the other side of the table.
Then they pay their respects to each other in the customary fashion. The
woman first of all performs four obeisances, assisted therein by a maid
servant at each side. Having already made two reverences before the
goose, the man, also helped in the performance, contents himself with
bowing twice. A widower marrying for the third time is only supposed to
make three obeisances in all, and for the fourth time only two. The lady
wears a long garment to conceal her feet as a mark of honour to the
bridegroom, who in courtesy has long sleeves covering the hands.
[page 9] Her eyes are understood to be fastened up, but this
custom, like many others, is often more honoured in the breach than in the
observance, and she may simply keep her eyes shut. It is contrary to
etiquette for her to utter a word on her wedding day. The bowing finished,
the ceremony of drinking wine, three cups of which are presented to each,
remains to be performed. Here again, however, the wine is not of
necessity actually consumed. The cups are exchanged through female
servants, waiting one on each side of the table, and instructed by some of
the bride’s relatives. Those passing from the bride to her husband make
their way along the right side of the table, those from him to her along the
left side. The reason given is because in Corea the left side is honored by
men and the right by women. Sometimes the husband drinks a little of the
wine but the wife abstains, though all the same each must touch the cup
with the lips. After this is over, the newly married couple may sit down
together for the first time. The whole function described having lasted for
about an hour, the bridegroom is conducted into a specially prepared room
where he is regaled with a feast along with the best man, who retires
183
immediately the repast is concluded, and the servants are likewise

entertained in the proper place. At noon comes the “going away,” the wife
departing behind her lord and master, like a dutiful Oriental spouse,
carried by eight bearers in a chair the roof of which is decorated with tiger
skins. She is followed by two umbrella-carriers and four lantern-bearers in
the black coats, called HEUK-EUI (黑衣), used by chair men and official
servants, twelve maids with garments, green above and blue below (in
olden times the lower garments were red, and even now small girls have
them of red), the YUMO (乳母) or nurse, in a two-man chair, and a room
attendant PANG-JIK-I (房直) following. The Jinrikisha is often employed
as a modern innovation in the procession. Returned home the bridegroom
does reverence to his parents. Presents of money are bestowed upon all
the attendants. At one o’clock in the afternoon, so that no time may be lost,
the union is, as it were, consecrated through a visit paid by [page 10] the
pair to the temple containing the ancestral tablets of the bridegrooms’s
house, where are spread offerings of wine, fruit and dried fish. Each of
them reverently inclines the head two times. When the family does not
possess any such tablets, the same rites are gone through in the house
before screens on which are pasted papers, CHI-BANG (紙榜), inscribed
with the titles and degree of relationship of the four preceding deceased
ancestors, both male and female. Now the bride is in a position to make
the acquaintance of her father and mother-in-law, though some authorities
hold that the introduction should take place prior to the visit to the temple.
On this occasion she presents to the former a dish of dates, and to the
latter a cooked pheasant, and to both three cups of wine, making an
obeisance in each case. The other members of the family to which she has
been admitted are next made known to her. Immediately afterwards the
time comes to do especial honour to the bride and she goes through a
ceremony which is called KWAL LE (冠禮), as in the case of the man. Her
hair already dressed for the wedding is undone and then braided into two
coils and fastened in a knob by her mother-in-law. She is adorned with an
artificial head dress, a dragon-headed gilt hair-pin, a wedding cap, and
also receives seven upper garments of Chinese silk, a red Chinese silk
under garment, as well as jewellery, hair pins, finger rings and clothing of
various kinds. Thus fitted out, she is entertained at a banquet.
Later in the afternoon the couple return to the house of the bride,
where they spend three nights. The morning following the wedding the
son-in-law is introduced to his relatives by marriage and his
184
parents-in-law make him a present of a suit of clothes, a hat with horse

hair head-band and shoes.
On the third day is the final home coming when all the bride’s
belongings are carried with her to the new home where the parents are
awaiting the obeisances usual at this time. Three days afterwards the
husband is once more taken to his wife’s old domicile, either on a horse or
in a chair, supplied by her people. This is known as the second going,
CHAI-HANG (再行). [page 11] In out of the way places, this may be done in
the wedding month, or postponed till the third month. In the same month
the wife is sent on a similar visit, provided with presents of wine, cake and
vermicelli. Should some obstacle come in the way and prevent her from
going, custom demands that the visit be postponed till the third month of
wedded life. In the country where the two homes are separated by long
distances, she returns to see her parents in the year of her marriage, but
should she be unable to do so, the visit must on the same principle be
postponed till the next year but one after the event.
What we have described is a full ceremonial such as is observed
among the better classes, but variations and abridgments occur to suit
individual pockets and positions. For example, amongst the lowest classes
the marriage is sometimes celebrated at the house of the bridegroom. Let
us glance, by way of illustration, at a Corean wedding in humble life
which was contracted within the last six years in Seoul. The whole
ceremony lasted about two hours. Close on eleven o’clock in the morning
the guests began to assemble at the bridegroom’s house and soon
afterwards the happy man himself appeared on the scene mounted on a led
pony, white in colour, with high saddle, decorated as to its mane with
coins and ribbons and between the ears, with red pompoms. Two men
walked in front, one carrying a large oil paper umbrella, the other the
goose, while two attendants, also with similar umbrellas, followed in the
rear. By and by a messenger came hastening to say that the bride was near
at hand, and she arrived in a closely covered Corean chair, smartly
curtained and hung with tiger skins. Behind attendants bore her
paraphernalia. By her chair walked two women who upon reaching the
house lifted her out and almost carried her into the small room. After
making her obeisances she was supported till she reached her allotted
place on the wooden floor. Her eyes were firmly sealed, her face thickly
coated with white flour, her eyebrows fashioned into a narrow line to
make them conspicuous, the hair over her forehead brought into the
straight conventional shape by the pulling [page 12] out of superfluous hairs,
185
the cheeks and lips painted red. Brightly coloured silk formed her dress.
After the wedding the female guests crowded round and submitted her to a
minute inspection and the poor girl had to remain thus till sunset
motionless. In this case the bride was sixteen, her husband about twenty
and to follow their fortunes a little further, they now live with his mother
of whom he is the eldest son, the daughter-in-law taking the chief part in
the care of seven young brothers and sisters-in-law, leaving the older
dame free to attend to a small shop. One heard with no little surprise that
they were subsequently reported to be a happy family.
Altogether the position occupied by a married woman is
nominally a low one, as can be gathered from the terms by which she is
referred to. She has no name of her own, but is known by the name and
title of her husband with the word “house” placed after then, as Mr. So
and So’s house. It is unusual for persons other than relatives to make
enquiries regarding a man’s womenfolk, but when his wife is alluded to
by him he speaks of her as “that person,” as Ko Siki, which is an word
without meaning, or he uses some other disparaging expression.
Marriages in the old way, it can readily be imagined, are a cause
of much useless expense which bears heavily upon the poor who can not
really meet the outlay and have to borrow money to keep up the
appearances supposed to be called for on such occasions. Thus matrimony
is begun in debt from which it is not easy to secure freedom in after life.
It may be worth while noticing what the Coreans themselves
have to say about their national observances on the occation of a marriage,
and therefore from the columns of the “Cheguk Shinmun” (帝國新聞), a
Corean newspaper formerly published in Seoul, I took in 1906 the
following particulars of customs observed in various parts of the country.
In Kyöng Geui (京畿), Ch’ung Ch’öng (忠淸), Kang Wŭn (江原)
and Kyöng Sang (慶尙) Provinces marriage customs are practically
identical, differing only in details, but in the North [page 13] and West and
everywhere by the seashore they are of a special character. In the two
first-named divisions of the country the initial step is taken by the parents
of the bride in passe who transmit a CHU DAN (柱單), or letter asking for
the SAJU (四柱) to the house where the young man lives. Formal consent
to the marriage is regarded as having been obtained when the latter
document is forth-coming in response, and the rupture of an engagement
is a grave matter involving the return of the SAJU (四柱). When all the
arrangements for the union are completed and the day fixed is about to
arrive, a marriage note HON SO CHI (婚書紙), with a trifling gift of two
186
undergarments, is sent to the bride’s house in a lacquered box. On the

auspicious occasion a goose is presented and the wedding table, HON PAI
SANG (婚配床), is placed between the bride and bridegroom and the
ceremony takes place, consisting in the exchange of obeisances, four
rendered by the woman and two by the man in return.
In the northern and western districts negotiations are originated
by the despatch of a middle-woman, MAIPA (媒婆), to the girl’s house.
Should her parents be agreeable, they await the receipt of a formal
application before granting their sanction. When the wedding day comes,
a contract note may or may not be given, but there is no bestowal of
garments or box, nor are there any bowings. In these places a goose is
employed at the ceremony only by persons of rank and wealth who do not
exceed two or three in a district. In ordinary cases the bridegroom,
wearing a student’s overcoat, DO-PO (道袍), or occasionally official
clothes, KWAN-BOK (官服), proceeds on horse back to the house of the
bride where he is received in a room made ready, and regaled with special
food placed upon a large table called the KUN-SANG (큰상). At this
moment DAN-CHA (單子), notes written in common language and
couched in a jocular and personal strain, asking for food, are brought to
him from the scholars of the neighbourhood. On these he inscribes short
sentences in reply but if his ignorance be so great that he requires to enlist
the services of his best [page 14] man, HU-PAI (後陪), for the purpose, he
is made a laughing stock of. At sunset the bridegroom is introduced into
the bridal chamber. After three days the CHOK-CHANG-PUB (足掌法) or
practice of beating the soles of the feet, is observed so severely that the
bridegroom is pained almost beyond endurance. At Wi-ju (義州) when the
KUM-SANG (큰상) is placed before the bridegroom, young scholars
subject him to much teasing and buy the table from him.
In the provinces of Kyöng Geui (京畿) and Ch’ung Ch’ong
(忠淸) it is customary among gentle-folk to make the family of the bride,
if they have any means at all, responsible for almost the entire providing,
while the bridegroom’s people are content with supplying two
undergarments of female attire. The former must furnish two pairs of
blankets and even the common utensils, combcases and brass dinner
vessels for the young couple, and also the bridegroom’s clothes ― indeed
so far does their duty in these matters extend that they must keep the
bridegroom in raiment for years afterwards. Not unnaturally under the
circumstances many daughters are said to be the ruin of a house.
187
In parts of the Pyung-An (平安) and Whang-Hai (黃海)

Provinces there are in force ceremonial regulations which apply to high
and low, rich and poor, alike. It is laid down that when the subject of
marriage is broached, the market value of the girl shall be referred to as if
the transaction concerned the buying and selling of cattle. She is worth at
least two or three hundred Yang (兩) and sometimes more than a thousand,
and the contract money is paid over before the marriage is fixed. Of late
the sum demanded is reported to have varied according to her age, each
year of which, from the time she is first marriageable till she reaches what
is considered to be the prime of her maidenhood, advances her price by
one hundred Yang (兩). Therefore supposing that she would fetch eight
hundred Yang (兩) at eight, at ten she is worth a thousand. Scarcely is
there a woman in these parts who is not a wife before she is fifteen. In the
majority of cases she is married at seven or eight because of the
preponderance of poor people. Notwithstanding [page 15] that her parents
thus make a profit by her, they prepare no clothes for the bridegroom. The
practice of selling daughters is observed even by the rich, but there are
some such who do not dispose of them in this way, though they do not
exceed ten in a district. Social position is at a discount, and all that people
care for is to get a good offer for the hand of their daughter. Even a
servant if he have the sum needful can easily procure a wife, while a
gentleman’s son in poverty is at his wits’ end. Here the love of money
would therefore appear to be the root of all matrimony. Those who have
many daughters are counted among the wealthy in contradistinction to
their fellow-country men in Kyöng Geui (京畿) and the southern regions.
In recent years many inhabitants of the North-west having emigrated to
the provinces of Ham Kyeng (咸鏡) and Kang Wŭn (江原), the custom of
receiving money for the bride has been carried with them. In spite of their
monetary value, daughters are cared for very badly and when they go
away as married women they are treated worse than servants and have to
take their food outside. If they are unfortunate in their parents-in-law, they
lead lives of misery, eating the burned remains of the rice and doing all
kinds of farming work, except ploughing, in addition to sewing, weaving
and cooking. In the course of time their lot is ameliorated by the transfer
of the larger share of the burden to the shoulders of their own
daughters-in-law. The most miserable women in the world may
accordingly be said to be those of the Western part of Corea.
Amongst the lowest class in Seoul there is a custom of sending to
the bride some days before the wedding pieces of silk and cotton, green
188
stuff for the cloak, money, hair-pins, finger-rings, &c., as PONGCHI

(봉치), in a lacquer box, but if the offering be a meagre description, it is
sometimes slightingly rejected.
189
190
Volume IV, part III. 1913. The text below is taken from an original copy of the
volume preserved in the University of Oregon Library. The text in the volume
reprinted by the RASKB is full of errors of unexplained provenance.
[page 17]
Selection and Divorce.

By J. S. Gale. [James Scarth Gale]
In the selection of a wife the Five Elements, Metal, Wood, Water, Fire,
Earth play a leading part; and also the 60 year-names of the Cycle. The
Five Elements have their mutual relationships as expressed thus in Korea,
Japan and China:―
木 Wood brings forth Fire 火
火 Fire 〃〃 Earth 土
土 Earth 〃〃 Metal 金
金 Metal 〃〃 Water 水
水 Water 〃〃 Wood 木
Thus you have the circle completed, where Wood and Fire are
harmonious, Fire and Earth, Earth and Metal etc.
On the other hand mutual animosities may exist and conditions
under which they cannot agree:―
木 Wood overcomes Earth 土
土 Earth 〃 Water 水
水 Water 〃 Fire 火
火 Fire 〃 Metal 金
金 Metal 〃 Wood 木
Thus are they interlocked, no special Element supreme among them, and
yet each is opposed to, and superior to some other. These all enter vitally
into the fortunes of the East, bearing directly on the question of marriage,
as well as on that of house selection, grave selection, etc. As Mr. Lay
mentions, in his paper, the Sa-ju is a commanding document that comes
into action even before the selection of bride is made, and before the first
preliminaries are yet undertaken. This Sa-ju is the official record of the
clan for date of birth, as to year, month, day and hour. It was a matter of
191
Selection and Divorce
first importance in Old Korea that the exact hour of birth be known, as
well as day, month, and year. So the sundial, the [page 18] water clock, and
the cock-crow of the morning, all contributed to the exact recording of
that on which so much in the future depends.
Let us illustrate how matters are influenced by the Sa-ju, (四柱)
by supposing that the young man seeking marriage is twenty, that he was
born in the year 1892, in the 6th Moon on the 20th day, and at the 5th
hour. This provides the necessary four points from which to find one’s
bearings.
The first question then is to locate the year 1892 in the Cycle and
find its relation to the Five Elements. There are books and helps for this
that have been used for thousands of years in the East. Let us apply to one
that Korea uses and that is called Ch’on-keui Tai yo (天機大要). In it will
be found that the year 1892, which is called Im-jin (壬辰), has attached to
it, as its Element mark, Chang-ryu-Su (長流水) “Far-flowing Water”. The
next task is to find the Cycle name for the 6th Moon, and its relation to the
Five Elements. The same book will tell that the Cycle name is Chong-mi
(丁未), and it will be found by looking up the table that Chong-mi has for
its Element designation, Chon-ha Su (天河水) “Water of the Heavenly
River”, or “Divine-river Water.”
Now taking the question of the day, and looking up the calendar
we find that the 20th is Mu-sin (戊申), and that Mu-sin has for its Element,
Tai-yok T’o (大驛土) “Great Post-station Earth.” We find further that the
1st hour of all days beginning with the syllable Mu is Im-ja, therefore the
5th hour will be Pyong-jin (丙辰), and this again is worked out in the
Table of Elements, as Sa-jung T’o (沙中土) “Sand-surrounded Earth”. To
sum up then, the Year, Month, Day, and Hour would be Im-jin, Chong-mi,
Musin, Pyong-jin or eight characters in all (八字). The Koreans constantly
talk of their Eight Characters as being unlucky or lucky. These then
worked out according to the Table of Elements would read “Far-flowing
Water,” (長流水) “Divine-river Water,” (天河水) “Great Post-station
Earth,” (大驛土) and “Sand-surrounded Earth” (沙中土).
Now before we go any further in the way of examining the Sa-ju
of the bride prospective, we must look well at this [page 19] one of the
young man to see if it is propitious in itself. It looks very doubtful for here
are Earth and Water each appearing twice, and we know that Earth
overcomes Water and that they are mutually opposed. This is the general
law, but in this particular case they may be mated without disaster.
“Far-flowing Water” or “Divine-river Water” may exist beside
192
“Post-station Earth” or “Sand surrounded Earth” without damage; but had

one of the forms been No-bang T’o (路傍土) “Road-side Earth,” it would
have indicated that the person was unlucky in themselves, doomed in fact,
and impossible to marry with. This would naturally end the matter without
ever coming to an examination of the young woman’s Sa-ju (四柱).
If you will notice the twelve Oriental Hours which are Cha (子)
Chook (丑), In (寅), Myo (卯), Chin (辰), Sa (巳), Oh (午), Mi (未), Shin
(申), Yu (酉), Sul (戌), Ha (亥) you will find they enter by combination
into each one of these Cycle names, and each hour has a corresponding
animal deity
For Cha 子 we have the Rat 鼠
〃 Chook 丑〃〃 Ox 牛
〃 In 寅〃〃 Tiger 虎
〃 Myo 卯〃〃 Hare 兎
〃 Chin (jin) 辰〃〃 Dragon 龍
〃 Sa 巳〃〃 Snake 蛇
〃 Oh 午〃〃 Horse 馬
〃 Mi 未〃〃 Sheep 羊
〃 Sin 申〃〃 Monkey 猿
〃 Yu 酉〃〃 Cock 鷄
〃 Sul 戌〃〃 Dog 犬
〃 Hai 亥〃〃 Pig 豕
Some of these creatures are naturally opposed to each other and
some again live in harmony. In casting the horoscope for the bride and
groom, these Twelve Animals of the Horary Circle are very carefully
watched. The Rat and the Sheep are enemies, for the Rat dreads the
Sheep’s horns. The Ox hates the Horse, because he does not help him
plough. The tiger despises the Cock because his bill is so short. The
Rabbit [page 20] complains against the Monkey because he does not seek
peace and persue it. The Dragon has a grudge against the Pig because his
face is black; and the Snake dreads the bark of the Dog. It may seem like
mere child’s play, but the old world of the East did not at all view it so,
when the wise and learned gave their best attention to finding out how the
future of the young married couple would stand as regards these animals.
In the four cycle names of the young man’s Sa-ju (四柱), Im-jin,
(壬辰), Chong-mi, (丁未) Mu-sin, (戊申) and Pyong-jin, (丙辰), the three
hours Chin (辰), Mi (未) and Sin (申) occur. The corresponding animals
are Dragon, Sheep and Monkey. These are not inimical to each other and
so the process may go on.
193
As conditions thus far are fairly favorable for the young man, let
us now take up the case of the young woman’s Sa-ju and we will suppose
that her year is 1894, the 12th moon, 15th day, and 7th hour.
By a similar process we find that the four corresponding Cycle
names are Kap-o (甲午) Ch’ong-ch’uk (丁丑) Chong-sa (丁巳) and
Pyong-o (丙午). These again yield from the Tables of the Five Elements
the following formula:
“Sand-surrounded Metal,” (沙中金) “Brook-lower Water,”
(澗下水) “Sand-surrounded Earth,” (沙中土) and “Heavenly-river Water,”
(天河水).
Arranged so as to give a comparative view, the two results stand
thus:-
YOUNG MAN.
Year, “Far-flowing Water” 長流水,
Month, “Divine-river Water” 天河水,
Day, “Great Post-station Earth” 大驛土,
Hour, “Sand-surrounded Earth” 沙中土,
YOUNG WOMAN.
Year, “Sand-surrounded Metal” 沙中金,
Month, “Brook-lower Water” 澗下水,
Day, “Sand-surrounded Earth” 沙中土,
Hour, Divine-river Water” 天河水,
[page 21]
After a comparative examination of these two in the light of the Tables as
worked out in the Ch’on-keui Tai-yo (天機大要) it will be found that
while there are some minor antipathies that might be overlooked, the two
formula that pertain to the Month and Hour of the young woman are
diametrically opposed to the Day formulum of the young man, that is
“Brook-lower Water,” (澗下水) and “Divine-river Water,” (天河水),
would prove the ruin of “Great-Post-station Earth,” (大驛土) and so, if the
seekers are sincere and orthodox, the proceedings will cease from this
point.
This will illustrate the tedious process by which marriage
elective affinities are arrived at.
DIVORCE.
The question of divorce has troubled the world through all its
history, from the days of Moses down to the present British Commission
194
that now has the matter in hand for consideration. The great teacher of the
East, Confucious, wrote out a statement which has been the law for China,
Japan and Korea for two thousand years.
This is found in the Lesser Learning Vol. II in the section marked
“Husband and Wife.” Confucious says:―
“The woman’s duty is to prostrate herself submissively before
her husband, in such a way as to have no will of her own, but to
demonstrate a perfect form of obedience. In three ways she must show it:
First, when she is young, by obeying her father; second, when she is
married, by obeying her husband; and third, when she is a widow, by
obeying her son. There is no place for independent action on the part of
any woman. Let not her influence or her voice be seen or heard outside
the gates. Her work is to prepare necessaries, entertainment and
refreshment for her husband and his friends.
“Her special place is within the inner court where she is to spend
her days. Even though her parents die she must never exceed 100 li in the
journey that she would make to take part in the funeral ceremonies. She
must make no independent [page 22] decision, and in all her actions there
must be no step taken alone; but only after counsel and direction is she to
move, and only after definite proof is she to speak. In the day-time she
may not step out into the court for pleasure, and at night, only with a light
may she cross the threshold. These are things right and proper for women.
“There are five things that will disqualify a woman for
marriage:―
First: if she is the daughter of a rebel or outlaw.
Second: if she belongs to a family that has broken nature’s laws.
Third: if her ancestry is branded with marks of imprisonment.
Fourth: if her family has been diseased for generations.
Fifth: if she is a fatherless child and untaught.
“There are seven reasons for which a woman may be put away
by her husband:―
First: if she is rebellious toward her parents-in-law.
Second if she has no children.
Third: if she is unfaithful to her husband.
Fourth: if she is jealous-minded.
Fifth: if she has an incurable disease.
Sixth: if she is given to hurtful talk and tale-bearing.
Seventh: if she is a thief.
195
“There are, however, three conditions that modify these, and in

view of anyone of them the woman cannot be put away, although she has
fallen under one or more of the reasons for divorce.
The three condition are:―
First: if she has no father or brothers living to whom she can be sent.
Second, if she has worn mourning for three years for her
parents-in-law.
Third, if the husband has risen from poverty to riches while she was his
wife.
196
Volume VI. 1915.
[page 1]
The History of Korean Medicine.

N. H. Bowman, M.D. [Newton H. Bowman]
Severance Union Medical College, Seoul, Korea.
The life story of Korean Medicine is based upon a traditional

inheritance from the dim past, before the time when history began to be a
matter of record, and the subject does not claim our attention today
because it is a monument of ancient skill, for in fact it is not, but because
it comes to us as a part of the traditions and history of the Korean people.
After careful study of the subject the following outline is
suggested for consideration.
I. The Chinese origin (2838-2648 B.C.)
(a) Sil-long-se (신농씨 神農氏)
(b) The Pon-cho (본초 本草)
(c) The Pharmacy sign (신농유업 神農遺業)
II. The medical treatises and authors with a chronological outline of
the Korean library of medicine arranged according to the dynasties and
the date of their occurence.
III. The revision of the Pon-cho (본초 本草) 1393 A.D. and the
bibliography.
IV. Emperor Sin-chong’s (신종 神宗) proclamation (1608 A.D.)
(a) You-han, (류한 劉漢) the royal household physician.
(b) The Pon-cho (본초 本草) becomes a book and the accepted
standard for Chinese Medicine.
(c) The description of the Pon-cho (본초 本草)
V. The Moon-Chang (문쟝 門場) and the introduction of the
Pon-cho (1628 A.D.)
VI. The Pang-yak-hap-pyun (방약합편 方藥合編) as a standard for
Korean medicine. (1838 A.D.) [page 2]
197
The History of Korean Medicine
VII. The description and translation of a part of the

Pang-yak-hap-pyun (방약합편 方藥合編)
VIII. The origin of Acupuncture and its subsequent development.
IX. The organization of the Sil-long-se adherents, 1913 A.D. and the
granting of the title of “Scholar of Medicine” by the Japanese authorities.
X. Conclusion.
---------------------------
I. In the traditions of China is to be found the first glimpse of
what the Korean people believe to have been the origin of their medicine.
The legendary story begins with (a) Sil-long-se (신농씨
神農氏), the second of the five ancient rulers of China, who founded a
dynasty, which lasted from 2838-2648 B.C. This personage has been
honored with the title of “Father of Medicine” and he is reputed to have
written an original manuscript on medicine, called the (b) Pon-cho (본초
本草) which analysed in its component parts signifies the first manuscript
(“Pon”-1st, “Cho”-manuscript). (c) This tradition is commemorated in the
form of a sign on all retail drug shops where native medicines are
prepared and sold. The final syllable (honorific) is dropped and the word
for inheritance, you-aup (유업 遺業) is added, thus the sign reads
Sil-long-you-aup (신농유업 神農遺業) “inherited from Sil-long-se” or
inherited medicine, which in point of significance corresponds to the
English word pharmacy, except that it is never employed to indicate the
science of pharmacy, because there is no such distinction in Korean
medicine.
Wholesale drug shops of native medicines are called Yak-gai
(약계 藥契) but they are purely commercial and have no part whatever in
the subject under discussion. Thus the traditional story of Sil-long-se
(신농씨 神農氏) ends and the Pon-cho is lost sight of for a period of
about four thousand years when it reappears within the province of history
to which [page 3] reference will be made later in the order as it appears in
the synopsis.
II. The library of medical books is in possession of the
practitioners of native medicine and the number and kind varies
considerably. Some have at least one book on medicine and that book is in
most instances the one of the six written by a Korean on the subject of
medicine. Others possess more, but they are of Chinese origin and written
in Classic Chinese. The greatest number of medical books found in the
possession of any one practitioner of native medicine was seventy two,
198
fifty two volumes of which were by one author and that set was an
elaborate edition of the Pon-cho.
Referring to the chronological outline of the Korean Library
appearing herein, there are two books derived from the Whang dynasty
(황데헌원씨 黃帝軒轅氏), the founder of which was the 3rd of the five
ancient rulers of China (2697-2597 B.C.). They are included because both
of these books have until recent years been in the possession of many of
the present day practitioners of native medicine, but at present both of the
books are out of print, and it is not likely that another edition of them will
ever be issued again in Korea.
The other books included in the outline are bonafide members of
the present day Korean medical library, and are in actual use by the
practitioners of native medicine. Some of the books have a supplementary
sheet which mentions a large number of other books of Chinese
authorship, that were never in use in Korea by the Korean people,
therefore no mention will be made of them.
The next books in order of time do not appear until 56-59 A.D.
after which time they occur in fairly regular order of one or two books for
about every 250 years until the Mung (명 明) (Chinese “Ming”) dynasty
(1368-1628) is reached.
During this time a greater number of books came into use, all of
which may be noted by consulting the chronological outline herein
attached and further delineation of the Korean Library of Medicine will be
deferred except as it becomes [page 4] necessary to refer to it in treating
with special topics of this discussion.
III. The revision of the Pon-cho (본초 本草) occurred in the
Mung (명 明 (Ming) dynasty) (1368-1628 A.D.) during the reign of
Mung-tai-cho (명태조 明太祖) 1393 A.D. The Pon-Cho was revised by
one E-Se-Chin (리시진 李時珍) a Chinese doctor and scholar living at
Ko-wol (고월 古越) China. In the revision of the Pon-Cho the author
incorporated many new rules, which he took from contemporary sources
or from his predecessors; however be this as it may, the bibliographic
outline of the Pon-Cho herein given will show the sources drawn upon.
The rule of pulse science is strongly emphasized throughout the
Pon-Cho and frequent references are made to one or other of the books or
authors of the bibliography. Whether all are books to which reference is
made is uncertain, as some were probably names of teachers, but this is a
matter of conjecture. These references indicate much of interest as to the
character of the teaching in Medicine in China at that time.
199
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE PON-CHO.
TITLE OF BOOK
KOREAN CHINESE ENGLISH DEFINITION
맥결교증 脉訣巧證 A book of clever proof on the pulse.
맥결비숙화셔 脉訣非叔和書 Pi-sook-wha’s book on the pulse.
맥학긔경팔맥 脉學奇經八脉 Eight beautiful rules of the canon of pulse
science.
신농본경명례 神農本經名例 Rule of the original canon of Sil-long-se.
력대졔가본초 歷代諸家本草 Catalogue of medicine of all the
households of the preceding dynasties.
도씨별록합약 陶氏別錄合藥 The rule of gathering and
[page 5]
분졔법측 分劑法則 dividing medicine according to the
special records of Do-se.
의림즙약 醫林輯略 A summary of brief extracts from various
authors.
본초화 本草話 A catalogue of remarks on medicine.
셥성한람 攝生閒覽 Important decision on the preservation of
health.
사시용약례 四時用藥例 Rule of the use of medicine according to
the four seasons.
숭강비요 升降備要 Seung-Kang Pi Yo.
긔약비고 奇藥備考 Wonderful remarks on medicine.

약셩원해 藥性原觧 Original interpretation of the nature of
medicine.
긔미음양 氣味陰陽 Original remarks on sex.
숭강부침 升降浮沉 To float and sink alternately, as if to
ascend and descend.
표본음양 標本陰陽 The primeval force developed from
original remarks.
오미편승 五味偏勝 Five tastes contraindicating the use of
medicine.
복약금긔 服藥禁忌 Medicines to be avoided.
임신금긔 姙娠禁忌 How to avoid becoming pregnant.
오미의긔 五味宜忌 Five tastes to be avoided.
200
십졔 十劑 A treatise of ten remedies.

칠졔 七劑 Seven kinds of medicine.
리동원수즘 李東垣隨症 Rule of treating disease according to
용약례 用藥例 Yi-Song.
진쟝긔졔허 陳藏器諸虛 Chin-chang-ke’s rule of the use of
용약례 用藥例 medicine in chronic diseases.
쟝자화한 張子和汗 The rule of three; diaphoretic, emetic and
토하삼법 吐下三法 purgative.
[page 6]
토 법 吐法 Rules for emetics.
하 법 下法 Rules for purgatives.
한 법 汗法 Rules for diaphoretics.
IV. In 1608 A.D. just 215 years after E-se-chin (리시진 李時珍)
revised the Pon-cho the Emperor Sin-chong (신종 神宗) of the Mung (명
明) (Ming) dynasty issued a proclamation throughout his empire making
diligent inquiry of every man for the best treatise on the subject of
medicine known to the Chinese people. Whereupon an heir of E-se-chin
(리시진 李時珍) took the revised Pon-cho to the royal court of his
majesty. (a) The royal household physician, You-han (류한 劉漢) by
virtue of his position became the head of the Royal Commission before
whom came all replies and findings on the subject in question. After
having examined the revised Pon-cho, the Royal Commission pronounced
it most excellent, in testimony thereof the Emperor’s Seal was placed
upon it. (b) The Emperor ordered it copied and made into a book which is
the first mention of the Pon-cho being anything more in form than a
manuscript, as the word signifies. From this time on the Pon-cho became
the recognized standard for Chinese medicine. The Emperor also ordered
that the book be taught to the “Clever sons” of the empire according to
their selection by the doctors. (c) The Pon-cho is a book of varying
proportions, but the subject matter is the same in all the editions. The
smallest number of volumes found in any one edition was fifteen, and the
greatest number was fifty two. The script is all in Classic Chinese (슌한문
純漢文). It contains many drawings of animals, snakes, birds, plants,
flowers and vegetables, representing in all one thousand eight hundred
and seventy one agents, described in 60 parts and having a diagnostic and
a therapeutic index.
CLASSIFICATION OF MEDICINE ACCORDING TO THE PON-CHO.
201
KOREAN CHINESE ENGLISH

현슈류 天水類 13 Products of paddy fields watered by the rains.
[page 7]
디슈류 地水類 30 Products of paddy fields watered from the
ground.
화 火 11 Fire, Atmospheres, Flame, Fever, etc.
토 土 61 Earth.
셕류금셕 石類金石 28 Gold stone.
석류옥셕 石類玉石 14 Precious stones.
셕류일 石類一 32 Stone (I).
셕류이 石類二 39 Stone (II).
셕류 石類 47 Stone.
산초샹 山草上 31 Mountain grass (I).
샹초하 山草下 40 Mountain grass (II).
방초 芳草 56 Green grass.
습초샹 濕草上 53 Damp grass (I).
습초하 濕草下 73 Damp grass (II).
독초 毒草 47 Poisonous grass.
지이 芝栭 15 Mushroom found growing on rocks and pine
wood.
오과 五果 11 Five Fruits.
미과 味果 13 Appetizing fruit.
만초일 蔓草一 73 Vine grass (I).
만초이 蔓草二 19 Vine grass (II).
슈초 水草 23 Water grass.
셕초 石草 19 Stone grass.
태초 苔草 16 Vallisneria spiralis, a water-plant.
잡초 雜草 9 Various grasses
마맥도 麻麥稻 12 Hemp, Barley and Rice.
직속 稷粟 18 Panicled millet and millet.
숙두 菽豆 14 Beans.
조양 造釀 29 Brewing of alcoholic liquids.
군신채 葷莘菜 32 Peppery and acrid Vegetables.
유활채 柔滑菜 41 Soft vegetables.
[page 8]
파채 苽菜 11 Cucumbers, melons, and vegetables.
슈채 水菜 6 Water vegetables.
산과 山果 34 Mountain fruit.
리과 夷果 31 Miscellaneous fruits.
202
긔물 器物 54 Household goods.
파과 苽果 9 Cucumbers.
슈과 水果 6 Water fruit.
향목 香木 35 Fragrant wood.
교목 喬木 52 Old wide spreading trees such as Zelkova
Keaki.
관목 灌木 51 Shrubs.
우목 寓木 12 Parasitic plants, like misletoe.
포목 苞木 4 Bamboo.
잡목 雜木 7 Miscellaneous trees.
부록졔목 附錄諸木 20 Index of the species of trees.
림금류 林禽類 17 Forest animals.
산금류 山禽類 14 Mountain animals.
축류 蓄類 28 Domestic animals.
슈류 獸類 38 Beasts.
셔류 鼠類 12 Rats.
인 人 37 Parts of human body.
유명미용 有名未用 153 Famous remedies.
란성일 卵生一 23 Egg embryo (I).
란성이 卵生二 22 Egg Embryo (II).
화성 化生 32 Transformed beings.
습성 濕生 23 Centipedes.
부록 附錄 7 Earth worms (?)
룡 龍 9 Dragon
사 蛇 17 Snakes.
어 魚 31 Fish.
무린어 無麟魚 28 Skin Fish (without scales).
부록 附錄 9 Allied species of skin fish (?)
[page 9]
구별 龜鼈 17 Tortoise and fresh water turtles.
방합류 蚌蛤類 19 Mussels, clams and bivalves.
슈금 水禽 23 Water fowls.
원금 原禽 23 Squab, fowls.
V. Twenty years after the Pon-cho received imperial recognition
by the Emperor Sin-chong, (신종 神宗) the famous Chinese and Korean
Market called Moon-chang (문쟝 門場) was established in N. E. China in
the Laotung or Yo-tong (요동 遼東) province 700 li (333 ⅓ English
Miles) from the nearest Korean prefect, Wiju (의쥬 義州) and 300 li (100
English miles) from the Eastern border of the Laotung or Yu-tong
203
province which was the Yalu River, the N. W. Boundary of Korea. This
market was established at the close of the Mung (Ming) (명 明) dynasty
in the year 1628 A.D., and was continued for a period of 230 years during
which time it was the greatest ginseng (인삼 人蔘) market in the world.
The market was as the word signifies the “Door of trade” for Korea in
China. It was the only point in Chinese territory at that time open to the
Korean merchantmen. The Koreans took their merchandise there for
disposal and the Chinese did likewise. The trade consisted chiefly of
ginseng from Korea and silk from China; however there were other
commodities bought and sold by both countrymen. The Pon-cho became
the official catalogue of classification for all medicines of the two
countries and any one not contained in the Pon cho was marketed under
some disadvantage. In the meantime Korean Medicine of various kinds
developed in point of importance both in practice in Korea and in
commerce at the Moon Chang. The book of antiquity, the Pon-cho no
longer covered the new field of medicine which had sprung up from
Korea, therefore the necessity arose for either revising the Pon-cho again
or of writing an entirely new book on medicine in order to conserve the
trade interests of the Korean constituency. In the first instance a revision
of the Pon-cho by a [page 10] Korean who most needed it, would have been
a failure as a business proposition since the Chinese preferred the old to
the new, and also, because Korea was to China only a child and surely
what was not bred in the bone of a Chinaman could not come out in the
flesh of a Korean.
VI. Therefore a new book called the Pang-yak-hap-pyun
(방약합편 方藥合編) was written by one Whang-do-soon (황도슌
黃道淳) a Korean doctor and scholar of the Chinese classics living at
Sauk-chung-dong (셕졍동 石井洞) Seoul, Korea. For all ethical intents
and purposes, the author incorporated the fundamentals of the Pon-cho in
his new book. In introducing the book the author used the name of the
great teacher Confucius, whom he claimed to represent, admonishing all
who should read the book to follow its precepts as the author had done,
thereby dispelling all doubt as to authenticity in the minds of the Chinese
to whom the drugs were to be sold and justifying the practice of Korean
medicine in Korea. The book was written in mixed script (Chinese context
with Korean connectives). The first edition was published in the 447th
year (1839 A.D.) of the Yi (리 李) dynasty (Korea) seventy six years ago.
Eleven years later the second edition appeared. The third and present
edition appeared just sixteen years after the first, all of which were written
204
by the same author. The first edition appeared just twenty years before the
Moon-chang (문쟝 門場) the border market or the “door of trade” was
discontinued. Following the third and last revision of the book the market
continued for only four years.
VII. The Pang-yak-hap-pyun (방약합편 方藥合編) is a book of
only 58 pages containing a diagnostic index of diseases and therapeutic
indications for the use of 223 agents as medicine.
The book answers more nearly to the description of a catalogue
of medicine and is practically so regarded, but it does not contain a price
list of any description. It is in all essentials a tradesman’s commentary on
medicine, embodying many prescriptions for as many ills. Many of these
prescriptions are [page 11] popularly known to the laity who buy them from
the drug shops, Sil-long-you-aup (신농유업 神農遺業) and take them
home to use after the fashion of domestic medicine.
SA-AN-TONG’S EYE WASH.

MEDICINE NAME
당귀 當歸 A drug supplied by several members of the
Umbelliferae family.
황련 黃連 Rhizomes of the Coptis teeta.
젹작약 赤芍藥 The roots of Paeonia albiflora.
방풍 防風 Caraway seed.
행인 杏仁 Apricot seed.
성디황 生地黃 Rehmannia glutinosa.
Uses: ― A wash for sore eyes.
KOONG-RE-TANG’S GINSENG REMEDY.

MEDICINE NAME
쳔궁 川芎 A kind of medicine used for head troubles and
as a tonic.
반하 半夏 Pinellia ternata, a bean-like medicinal plant.
봉출 蓬朮 Mugwort and Atractylis ovata.
목향 木香 Putchuck root.
사인 砂仁 Inferior cardamons.
오약 烏藥 Lindera strychnifolia.
205
감초 甘草 Licorice.
인삼 人蔘 Ginseng.
계피 桂皮 Cinnamon bark.
Uses: ― A remedy for dropsical conditions.
[page 12]
NUMBER II, STOMACH MEDICINE.
MEDICINE NAME
창출 蒼朮 Atractylis ovata.
진피 陳皮 Dried orange-peel.
후박 厚朴 The Magnolia hypoleuca.
반하 半夏 Pinellia ternata, a bean like medicine plant.
젹복령 赤茯笭 Red China “root.”
곽향 藿香 Betony of bishopwort.
초과 草果 The ovada cardamon.
Uses:― Summer dispepsia.
A DIARRHOEA REMEDY.
MEDICINE NAME
초룡담 草龍膽 Gentiana scabra.
쳔궁 川芎 A kind of medicine ― used for head troubles
and as a tonic.
외자 桅子 The seed of a kind of aspen.
대황 大黃 Rhubarb.
강활 羌活 The Peucedanum decursivum.
방풍 防風 Caraway seed.
Uses: —A liver regulator.
THE FOUR MEDICINE REMEDY.

MEDICINE NAME
숙디황 熟地黃 Cooked Rehmannia glutinosa.
백작약 白灼藥 White roots of Paeonia albiflora.
[page 13]
206

and as a tonic.
Uses:― Tonic expectorant for cough, spitting of blood, etc.
E-CHUNG TANG’S INTERNAL REMEDY.

MEDICINE NAME
백출 白朮 A variety of Atractylis ovata.
전강 乾薑 Dried ginger.
Uses:― For jaundice and vomiting.
SAM-SO-UM’S GINSENG AND PERILLA NANKMENSIS.

MEDICINE NAME
소엽 蘇葉 Perilla nankmensis.
젼호 前胡 Angelica.
반하 半夏 Pinellia ternata, a bean-like medicine plant.
전갈 乾葛 Dried Pueraria Thunbegiana.
젹복령 赤茯苓 Red China “root”
길경 桔梗 The species of Campanula.
기각 枳殼 The bark of Citrus aurantium.
감초 甘草 Licorice root,
Uses: — For “colds” accompanied by fever.
PAL-MUL’S MEDICAL DECOCTION OF EIGHT INGREDIENTS.

MEDICINE NAME
백출 白朮 A variety of Atractylis ovata.
[page 14]
백복령 白茯笭 White China “root.”
207

and as a tonic.
Uses: — For impoverished blood and general debility.
YONG SUK SAN’S CAMPHOR AND CALCAREOUS SPAR REMEDY.

MEDICINE NAME
한슈셕 寒水石 A calcareous spar.
쥬사 朱砂 Cinnabar.
룡뇌 龍腦 Camphor.
Uses: — For croup in children.
CHUNG-WHA-PO-UN’S FEVER ERADICATOR AND NERVE TONIC.

MEDICINE NAME
현삼 玄蔘 A kind of medicinal plant, Scrophularia
Oldhami,
and as a tonic.
황백 黃栢 The yellow bark of the Phellodendron
amurense.
지모 知母 Anemarrhena asphodeloides.
현화분 天花衯 Starch obtained from the root of the
Trichosanthes japonica.
[page 15]
Uses:— For fever and to increase the negative principle in one’s nature.
PYENG WE SAN’S STOMACH REMEDY.

MEDICINE NAME
창출 蒼朮 Atractylis ovata.
208
후박 厚朴 The Magnolia hypoleuca.
Uses:—For cramps of the stomach following the ingestion of food.
The amount of each ingredient contained in the foregoing
formulas averages from 25 to 75 grains, making a quart of finished
decoction. The more progressive practitioners of native medicine regard
the Pang-yak-hap-pyun with scorn, because they look upon any book of
medicine that is not written in classic Chinese as being too inferior for
their consideration. In fact for a practitioner of native medicine to depend
upon a copy of the Pang-yak-hap-pyun only is considered prima facie
evidence that he can not read classic Chinese, otherwise he would do so
and avail himself of the store of knowledge contained therein. Therefore it
is to be noted that there are two classes of these practitioners of native
medicine, namely, those who read classic Chinese and those who can not,
a distribution which is known and recognized by even the laity.
ACUPUNCTURE.
VIII. Acupuncture bears the same relation to native medicine as
surgery does to modern day scientific medicine. The essentials of this art
and practice are taken from the Whang-chai-yung-choo-kyung
(황데령츄경 黃帝靈樞經), one of the two books originating in the
Whang (황데 黃帝) dynasty (2697-2597 B.C.). The authorship of this
book and its fellow is ascribed to the Emperor. Whether or not the ruler
was the real author or whether the title was given honorificially, [page 16]
and the real author remained unknown, is doubtful. It may be noted that
such manuscripts as appeared in this dynasty and the one preceding are
ascribed to the founder of the dynasty, but after this time a different order
obtains ― (see chronological chart). Therefore Emperor Whang (황 黃)
bears practically the same relation to acupuncture as Sil-long-se (신농씨
神農氏) does to native medicine.
Of the two books referred to as occurring in this dynasty, the one
mentioned is the only one which deals with the art of acupuncture and for
this reason the other book will not be considered further.
The fundamental principle underlying this practice is based on
the assumption that the blood becomes stagnated and will not flow
properly through the natural channels of the body. Acupuncture is also
believed to hasten relief, over and above what might be expected from the
use of drugs.
209
The Korean name for this art is “Ch’im” (침 針) which is a term

applied to any kind of an instrument used in piercing the flesh of the body,
however the term in its original use and the one adhered to in this
discussion was applied to needles only. At some subsequent time however
the word jim (찜 灸) came to be used, but to signify a different form of
treatment by the application of heat with or without medicine. The jim is
altered by modifiers to indicate what article is employed, for instance the
mugwort (Artemesia) a weed growing in all parts of Korea, is used quite
extensively for this purpose under the name of Sook jim (쑥찜 艾灸)
which is employed in two forms, the poultice and the fire ball. The
poultice is prepared by boiling a quantity of the leaves and the stalk, then
placing it in a cloth and wringing until the water is expressed. The hot
pulp remaining is then used as a poultice. The fire ball called 뜸 or 쑥뜸
is made by crushing a small quantity of the stalk and rolling it between the
palms of the hands, after which the ball, varying in size from a pea to a
walnut, is set on fire and placed over different portions of the body. The
“Pillow jim” (목침찜 木枕灸) is made by heating the wooden block on
[page 17] which the Koreans rest their heads while sleeping and applying it
to different portions of the body for various ailments. With this
explanation of the jim, (찜 灸) or the second term, the discussion of the
ch’im, the first and original word will now be resumed.
In 59 A.D. during the reign of Choong Mung (중명 中明)
appeared the Wee-hak-eep-moon (의학입문 醫學入門) a medical
Primary in which is included a few more rules for the application of the
ch’im and elaborating on the rules of the Whang-chai-yung-choo-kyung,
(황데령츄경 黃帝靈樞經) the original source of the ch’im practice.
After this there appeared a succession of books, but none of them were of
any special significance until 420 A.D., when the Tong-een-kyung
appeared, which was written by one Wang-you-il (왕유일 王維一). This
author modeled a man out of copper, which is signified by the title of the
book, meaning the Copper man book. He elaborated on all the previous
teachings of his predecessors and constructed a chart illustrative of the
Copper man’s anatomy, which is to this day the accepted standard of
anatomy amongst the practitioners of native medicine. In connection with
this anatomical scheme it was believed that there are (1) blood vessels (2)
nerves and (3) channels.
There are five kinds of channels illustrated (a) The spleen and
stomach (비위경 脾胃經) (b) the liver (간경 肝經) (c) the lung (폐경
肺經) (d) pericardium (심포경 心包經) and the (e) gall (담경 膽經).
210
(a) The channels given off from the spleen and stomach convey
nutritious material for final distribution to the different parts of the body.
(b) This organ gives off channels for the distribution of gall and
it is believed, now as it was then, that the eye is directly connected with
the liver by means of a gall channel, which accounts for the yellowish
discoloration of the eye in jaundice.
(c) The channels originating from this organ are supposed [page 18]
to contain air during foetal life but after birth when respiration is
established blood in supposed to enter, which continues through life.
(d) The oil channels are connected with an oil sac remotely
situated in the region below the diaphragm. This probably corresponds to
the omentum and possibly the base of the mesentery.
(e) These channels are confined to the upper half of the body and
they have no connection with the liver. They are the receptacles for a
complimentary fluid which is supposed to be the seat of courage.
All the above named channels are supposed to contain blood but
in a modified form, due of course to the presence of the respective
substances which they receive and convey.
The chart of anatomy consists of three parts, Sam Cho 삼초
三焦.
(1) Regional (2) Visceral (3) Surgical.
The Regional consists of three divisions:
(a) Upper third of the trunk—thorax, Sang Cho 샹초
上焦
(b) Middle third of the trunk—abdomen, Chung Cho
즁초 中焦
(c) Lower third of the trunk—lower abdomen, Ha Cho
하초 下焦
(2) The Visceral—In this chart there are 32 anatomical structures
named, which may be noted by referring to the chart. See chart number I.
(3) The Surgical—The blood vessels, nerves and channels
represent the chief items of consideration. These structures are described
as large and small, with erroneous origins and distributions, except for the
fact that some of the blood vessels are shown to originate in the heart. The
nerves are supposed to originate independent of the brain and cord and
have abrupt endings. Along the supposed courses of these blood vessels,
nerves and channels, certain points for the application of the chim are
described in great detail. Each point is described as a [page 19] separate
operation for a different group of symptoms all of which are based on the
211
pulse law, but there is no definite principle taught in any of the pulse laws
and the observer is left to exercise his own judgment and to formulate his
own interpretation of the symptoms. These points, described as sites for
the application of the ch’im, are determined by surface measurements
from a given point in the respective region. See charts II and III.
For example ― on the face, these points are determined by
measurement in a given direction from the corner of the eye.
On the forehead ― from a point midway between the eye brows.
Shoulder region ― from the center of the axilla and the point of
the shoulder; the chest-from the center of the mammary gland and from
the cardinal point at the end of the sternum where the aorta is supposed to
end.
The abdomen ― from the umbilicus. The Pelvis ― from the
center of the pubic arch in front and the center of the sacrum behind.
On the limbs ― from points before, behind and from either side.
The extremities ― from the ball of the foot and great toe.
The toes ― from the 1st and 2nd joints of each. The same rule
applies to the hands fingers. Special stress is laid on the significance of all
promontories of the body as suitable points for the application of the
ch’im.
The total number of operations described and the corresponding
number of groups of symptoms indicating the operation are one hundred
and sixty, but for the sake of brevity only a few are herein given. The
majority of the names of the operations have no special significance or
corresponding meaning in English, therefore it would be of no special
value to burden these pages with all their names. Example:-
Operation No. 2. “Cloudy gate” (운문 雲門) or Axilla.
Cauterize five times 3/10 of an inch deep for the relief [page 20] of stomach
sickness, painful arms and back, stopping of chest, cough and indigestion.
No. 15 ― “Gathering Valley” (합곡 合谷). Cauterize three
times 2/10 of an inch deep between the thumb and forefinger for headache,
foul sores, painful eyes, ringing of ears, sore mouth and throat, toothache,
fever and malaria.
No. 24 ― “Five Li” (오리 五里). Three inches up the arm from
the elbow. Use no needle but cauterize ten times for spitting of blood,
painful arm and shoulder, weak arms and legs, fever, enlarged glands of
the neck, cough and malaria.
212
No. 27 ― “Big Barn” (거골 巨骨). Cauterize 15/100 of an inch

deep three times between the shoulder and neck for blood poison of chest,
aches of the shoulder, arm and back.
No. 28 ― “Heaven pot” (현졍 天鼎) cauterize one inch after
the Poo-tol (부둘 扶突) 4/10 of an inch deep, 3 times for the dumps, sore
throat and hard breathing.
Other ambiguous names given to these operations are— “four
white”—“earth barn”—“welcome”—“man welcome”—“house itch”—
“milk center”—“milk root”—“water root”— “return”— “calf nose”—
“three li”— “young sea”—“small sea”—“bent wall”— “heaven
window”—“hearing hole”—“through sky”—“germ pillow”— “heaven
post”— “three focus”—“white ring,” etc.
The next book in order is the Chun Kum Pang (쳔금방 千金方),
“a thousand gold,” written in 632 A.D. which is practically a repetition of
the foregoing with individual interpretations by the author. The
Ch’in-Koo-Tai-Sung (침구대셩 針灸大成) 1682 A.D. is a book devoted
exclusively to the use of the ch’im and is the first instance of any book
being devoted to this subject alone. It delineates the virtues of the ch’im
and describes the successes obtained by this method of treatment, which is
also the first attempt to give anything like a clinical account of results. It
introduces a new ch’im which the author calls a Yak jim (약찜 藥灸) or
“medicine jim.” This jim has been described in the foregoing pages.
This chronology of medical books brings the subject down [page 21] to the
Yi (리 李) dynasty (Korea). There is one book, Tong-wee-paw-kam
(동의보감 東醫寶鑑) of Korean origin written by one Haw-Choon (허준
許浚) and entitled “A valuable treatise on Oriental Medicine,” that is
much employed by practitioners of native medicine who regard it is a
reliable source of information for both medicine and acupuncture. Of late
years the book has been revised and the old copper man’s anatomy has
been replaced with modern cuts taken from European anatomical books.
However the old sect of practitioners of native medicine do not accept
these innovations and they continue to believe in the old copper man
anatomy.
The other books originating in Korea and included in the
chronological outline do not treat of the subject of acupuncture.
The following is a list of books taken from the Chronological
Outline of the Korean Library of Medicine already given to show which
ones are concerned with the subject of acupuncture.
213

황데령추경 黃帝靈樞經 Wang-chai.
의학입문 醫學入門 Wee-hak-eep-moon.
동원십셔 東垣十書 Tong-won-sip-saw.
란 경 難經 Nan-kyung.
동 인 경 銅人經 Tong-een-kyung.
쳔 금 방 千金方 Chun-kum-pang.
침구대셩 針灸大成 Ch’im-koo-tai-sung.
동의보감 東醫寶鑑 Tong-wee-pow-kam.
IX. In 1913 all the practitioners of native medicine in Seoul,
Korea, were requested by the Japanese authorities to assemble for the
purpose of effecting an organization, which was done. A chairman and
secretary were elected and a membership of one hundred and fifteen was
recorded in this organization. Each member of the organization who
presented a membership certificate signed by the chairman and secretary
of the organization, accompanied with a registration fee, to the police
department, was granted an article of writing (March 1914) conferring
upon the applicant the title of “Scholar of [page 22] Medicine” 의성 醫生
which in effect is a license to practice native medicine in Korea for a
period of five years. Later this was extended to cover the life time of the
doctor so licensed.
This unique regulation has served the purpose of incorporating
this class of practitioners under government supervision and preventing
the perpetuation of the practice of native medicine in Korea.
X. In the preceding paragraphs the evolution of medicine from
prehistoric times has been outlined ― its appearance upon the far horizon
of history in China and its introduction into Korea has been set forth. The
old manuscripts of Chinese origin buried from the English-speaking world
in a mass of strange and scattered hieroglyphics have been brought to light
for our perusal. The knowledge gained by this study will not, of necessity,
give to us in this 20th century of intellectual environment greater energy
of thought, but it will give us a better understanding of the life-story of
Oriental medicine and its history in Korea.
[page 31-34]
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
Volume VI, part II. 1915.
[page 1]
The Pagoda of Seoul.

By J. S. Gale. [James Scarth Gale]
In calling your attention to the Pagoda that stands in the Public Gardens of
Seoul, I will quote first from Dr. Sekino, Assistant Professor of
Architecture in Tokyo University. He says, “The pagoda stood originally
within the enclosure of Wun-gak Temple. It is precisely the same in
shape as the pagoda that stood on Poo-so Mountain in front of
Kyung-ch’un Temple, Poo’ng-tuk County, which dates from the close of
the Koryu Dynasty. Its design may be said to be the most perfect
attainment of the beautiful. Not a defect is there to be found in it. As we
examine the details more carefully, we find that the originality displayed
is very great, and that the execution of the work has been done with the
highest degree of skill. It is a monument of the past well worth the seeing.
This pagoda may be said to be by far the most wonderful monument in
Korea. Scarcely anything in China itself can be said to compare with it.
The date of its erection and its age make no difference to the value and
excellence of it.”
Coming as this statement does from an authority, it gives a fair
idea of the place the Pagoda holds among the monumental remains of East
Asia. It has very often been examined and commented upon in the past by
travellers, but its origin and date have remained a question of doubt till the
present.
While it stands now in the midst of the beautiful gardens that
surround it, it has passed through many vicissitudes in the way of site
since the days of the Wun-gak Temple. In the winter of 1883 and 1884 Mr.
Percival Lowell, the American astronomer, visited Seoul as the guest of
His Majesty the King, and made many notes of things he saw in the
Capital. What he says concerning the pagoda is of interest: [page 2]
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The Pagoda of Seoul
“Throughout the Far East wood is the common article employed

in building temples. Though occasionally stone or some other more
durable substance is used, temples or pagodas so constructed, in whole or
in part, are rare.”
“It is to one of these rare exceptional occasions — in this
instance to the stone of which it is made — that is due the preservation of
the only pagoda still extant in Seoul. This structure is not a true pagoda. It
is a pagoda only in form; and now it is but a neglected ornament on a
certain man’s backyard. But it deserves to be mentioned for its beauty as
well as for its lonely survivorship. It hardly rises above its present lowly
position, for it is not above twenty-five feet high. So little does it overtop
the roofs of even the low Korean houses that surround it, that is baffles by
a singular delusiveness one who attempts to reach it. It lies almost in the
heart of the city, not far from one of the main thoroughfares; and it is
while walking down this thoroughfare that one catches a glimpse of it.
The distant glimpse never becomes a nearer view. From afar it is a
conspicuous object, and on a closer approach it vanishes. It reappears only
when it has been once more left a long distance behind; while from any
other point of view than this street, it is hardly visible at all. Piqued into
curiosity, I determined to ferret it out and see what it was, even at the risk
of dispelling the charm.
“The approach, as I expected it would be, led me up several
narrow cross streets, and eventually landed me before an ill-kept little
garden in the midst of which rose the deserted solitary pagoda. As I could
get no good view of it, such as I wanted, from the alley-way where I stood,
I was obliged to ask permission to break one of the most sacred Korean
rites — no less heinous an offence than the climbing to a neighbouring
ridge pole. The act was not reprehensible on the score of trespass, — my
asking permission precluded that, — but the climbing to any, even one’s
own roof, is, in Korean eyes, a grave affair, for it is a question of statute.
It is forbidden by law to go upon one’s own housetop without giving
one’s neighbours formal [page 3] notification of one’s intention to do so.
The object of the law is to prevent any women’s being accidentally seen
by one of the other sex. The women’s suite of houses are in the rear of the
compound, and their occupants might be easily overlooked when in the
enjoyment of their gardens from such a vantage ground.”
“The pagoda is well worthy the toil involved in getting a view of
it. Although it is eight stories in height, it is composed, the whole of it, of
two pieces of stone. Not, properly speaking, a real pagoda, it is an
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The Pagoda of Seoul
ornamental structure in the form of one. The stories are carved to

represent an actual building, while what should have been their sides is
exquisitely chiselled in bas-reliefs of celebrated personages. The white
granite has become slightly discoloured with age, but enough of its former
purity remains to bring it into effective contrast with the sombre gray of
the houses.”
“The idea of the pagoda is Indian; and the Chinese, when they
adopted, together with the Buddhist religion, this which had come to be
one of its expressions, took the idea without directly copying the form.
When the Koreans, in their turn, come to borrow, they took both idea and
form from the Chinese, their predecessors in the line of possession.”
“What I mean by the idea as distinguished from the form, will
appear by looking at the structure itself. The most cursory examination
will show the pagoda to be unlike other tall and slender structures in one
peculiar and fundamental respect. It is not a unit but a conglomerate.
Instead of being a perfect whole it suggests a series of buildings, of the
ordinary Chinese type, placed one above another skywards. The
suggestion is no accident but the result of design. Each of these stories,
whose number varies in different specimens, typifies a Buddhist heaven.
They represent the successive stages through which the soul, in its
advance toward purification, must inevitably pass. This is the idea
embodied in the pagoda. This much then the Chinese adopted; but in the
expression of the stories they followed their own models, just as they did
in the temples which they erected in honour of the same religion. This
intent — that of repetition [page 4] — counts undoubtedly for something,
in the quaintness with which the pagoda impresses the Western eye.”
This quotation will give an idea of how forgotten and neglected
the Pagoda has remained although one of the most interesting monuments
of Asia. It is associated with Buddhism and has had to share the contempt
and the neglect that Buddhism has fallen heir to.
However the questions before us remain none the less interesting:
What is its date? Whence came the model? What great motive lay back of
it to bring it into being?
Bearing somewhat upon its date and place of origin, tradition
says that it came from China during the time of the great dynasty of
Genghis and Kublai Khan, which lasted from 1260 to 1341 A.D. It is said
to be a present that accompanied a Princess of the Mongols who was sent
to be the bride of the Korean King. That the Mongols had much to do with
Koryu, and that on more than one occasion a Mongol Princess came to
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The Pagoda of Seoul
share the throne and help rule the land, are unquestioned. The statement
that the Pagoda came with one of them seems, however, impossible to
substantiate from any historical record. No mention of it is made in the
Koryu Sa, 高麗史 a history written by Cheung In-ji 鄭麟趾 who lived
from 1396 to 1478 A.D. One could easily imagine that he would have
mentioned it.
However I am anticipating; let me go back and give you some of
the statements of the tradition.
Dr. Allen in his book Fact and Fancy says on page 146, “A
marble pagoda representing the life and teachings of the Buddha was sent
from Nan-king to the present site of Seoul where it still stands.” He adds
in brackets “sent by the Chinese father of the Korean Queen.” Here Dr.
Allen correctly records the tradition. His mention of Nan-king, however,
may be a slip as the Mongols never made the southern Capital the centre
of their rule.
Mr Hulbert has written many times about the pagoda. His
impression, too, was that it was sent from China by the Mongols. He gives
as his chief authority the writings of [page 5] Keum-neung 金陵 or Nam
Kong-ch’ul 南公轍 who lived from 1760 to 1840 A.D., a comparatively
recent writer. He is removed by many hundreds of years from the date of
the Pagoda as he himself understands it, and so his statement needs to be
examined with all the greater care. He does not pretend to be at all sure of
his ground in what he says, but would rather seem to be giving a guess at
its mystery. He says:
“On entering Seoul by the South Gate and passing toward the
north in less than ten li you come to the site of an old Buddhist Temple
which had a Bu-do or Pagoda before it. It is now some four hundred years
since the temple fell to ruins but the pagoda still stands.
“In a history of Koryu it says” (but where I cannot find) “that in
the 11th year of Soon-je, 順帝 of the Mongols (1343 A.D.) the daughter
of King Choong-soon of Koryu, who was called Princess Keum-dong,
married the Emperor of the Mongols. The Emperor delighted himself so
greatly in her, that he raised a large subscription on her behalf to be
presented to the Buddha. He called workmen and made two pagodas,
which he put on board ship and brought by way of Yo-dong. One was
placed in P’oong-tuk by the Kyung-ch’un Temple, and one in Han-yang
before the Temple of Wun-gak. The Minister of the Mongols T’al-t’al
took charge of the work.
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The Pagoda of Seoul
“The pagoda has 24 shrines in which are pictures of the Budhisat,

Kwan-se-eum 觀世音. They are taken from the pictures of O To-ja,
吳道者, the famous artist of the Tangs. Tradition says that originally by
the Pagoda stood a stone on which was written an account of it, but time
has worn away all traces of the record.” (It is this inscription that I have
recovered and wish to present to you to-day.) “We do not know the names
of those who had a part in the writing. People are doubtful of the whole
story.
“Buddhism came originally from India and in the days of Han
Myung-je, 漢明帝, it first entered China (58-76 A.D.), and continued till
the time of the Mongols when it was specially honoured. Great temples
and halls were erected, and this religion [page 6] increased and grew. Thus
its influence was specially felt in Korea in the times of the Mongols, for
she then became a vassal state and offered her tribute every year. Because
of this she learned the habits and customs of the Mongol Empire. Thus the
days of success for Buddhism began with the days of Koryu.
“I have been amazed to find mention of pagodas in the History of
Koryu, and looked to see if I could find any trace of it in the history of the
Mongols, but find nothing. I wonder if they overlooked it. Perhaps Koryu
made her own pagoda and did not get it from the Mongols at all. It may
have been added by those writers who desired to make a wonderful story
of it.
“The Mongols were originally barbarians and so one need not
be surprised at their worship of the Buddha, but our country which lies
here beyond the sea, has, for 500 years and more, worn the cap and belt of
the Confucian scholar, and yet it came to be so ardent a follower of the
Buddha, just as the Mongols themselves were. It is indeed a distasteful
fact.
“Now Soon-je of the Mongols was born of barbarian stock, and
so one naturally thinks of him as a man with no religion, but T’al-t’al was
a renowned Minister of State, whom people of the world liken to
Che-kal-yang 諸葛亮. One so greatly honoured as he could not surely
have been a promoter of so contemptible a thing as Buddhism. I wonder if
it was because Koryu loved Buddhism that this pagoda was erected? This
too, is a question and a doubt, Koryu was a very wicked state. Between
king and courtier, as between father and sons, such acts were committed
as the Book of Poetry calls ‘the doings of the lost.’
“If we look carefully into the origin of this we find if all due to
the presence of Buddhism. Since ancient times those who have followed
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The Pagoda of Seoul
the Buddha have prayed for blessing but have failed to get it. Instead of
blessing they have found disaster and destruction; and yet they did not
know how to repent. Thus it was.
“I have noted down herewith what has transpired in the past, in
order that future generations may read and understand.”
Mr Hulbert who bases his conclusions largely on what [page 7]
Nam Kong-ch’ul says, gives his views in The Passing of Korea and the
Korea Review of December 1901.
It had long seemed to me likely that the inscription on the
Wun-gak Temple stone, that stands on the turtle’s back, not far from the
Pagoda, would answer the question of its origin, but even Nam
Kong-ch’ul who was born in 1760 says the inscription was lost to sight in
his day. Looking the stone over, many characters are visible, but it is quite
impossible to make out the sense. The Yu-ji Seung-nam, or Geographical
Encyclopaedia, says that it was written by Kim Soo-on, 金守溫 one of
the noted scholars of Korea, who graduated in 1441 and was in his day
Chancellor of the College of Literature. He was also a specialist in
Buddhism, but his works are nowhere to be found. After many years
search my esteemed friend Mr. Kim Wangeum, 金瑗根 found the copy
of an inscription said to have been written by Kim Soo-on, for the
memorial stone that stood before the Wun-gak Temple. I took it at once
and made a careful comparison with the dim characters remaining and
found it to be genuine. I give herewith a translation, as it throws much
light on the whole question of the Pagoda. It gives the date of its erection,
tells who built it, and also the motive that prompted the building.
The inscription reads; “For the ten years during which His
Majesty has reigned, he has won great renown for his righteous rule, has
demonstrated the principles of justice, and brought the sweet music of
peace and quiet to the state, making the people, and all that pertain to
them, happy and glad. During this time His Majesty has given himself up
to religion, and meditated on the deep truths of the Faith, desirous that this
subjects might be impregnated with a like spirit, and so win the blessing
of eternal life.
“Among the sayings of Yu-rai in the 12th Section of the Three
Chang Sutra 三藏經 there is a book called the Tai-Wun Gak 大圓覺
which is a special religious classic. In the midst of his many labours the
King wrote a commentary on this book and edited it, using both the
Chinese and the [page 8] Un-moon 諺文 to make it plain. He did it in the
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The Pagoda of Seoul
hope that the people would come to a knowledge of the Mahayana

Doctrine, 大乘
“In the 4th moon of summer and on the day Kyung-sool in this
year 1464, Prince Hyo-ryung, 孝寧大君, called Po, 補, set up a stone
“bell” to the east of the Hoi-am Temple and placed the sari 舍利 of
Suk-ka Yu-rai within it. He then summoned an assembly to celebrate its
erection, at which time he himself expounded the teaching of the Wun-gak
Sutra. On that night Buddha appeared in mid-heaven, and angel priests
were seen circling about the high altar. A bright halo surrounded them
with circles of glory. Fresh water gushed forth from the earth. The sari
increased and grew to be over 800 in number.
“In the 5th moon, Prince Hyo-ryung gathered them together and
presented them to the King, with an account of the wonders he had seen.
Therewith His Majesty and the Queen repaired to the Ham-wun Palace,
and worshipped. Again the sari increased and grew to 400 more, on
hearing which the Ministers memorialized the King with congratulations
for this good omen.
“On this a general pardon was issued to all prisoners, and His
Majesty sent an edict to the Government which read: ‘Among the
thousand great, good and righteous ones who have lived Suk-ka Yu-rai is
the fourth. His word has gone out in all directions, and his wisdom to the
ends of the world. His preaching, which saves the souls of men, has
advanced and now occupies the realm of China. There are over 84,000
books that pertain to it and yet the Wun-gak Sutra is the source and end of
all. I had already set my heart upon translating it and making it known, so
that its teaching might benefit others, when my uncle Hyo-ryung called an
assembly, at which time various Buddhas made their appearance before
our eyes. It was a wonderful manifestation. We, who live under all the
five kinds of darkness that afflict the soul, have seen a sight like this. And
now I propose to restore the Hong-bok Temple, 洪福寺 and change its
name to Wun-gak, and so build a memorial to the [page 9] highest of the
Buddhist Sutras, How do you regard my intention?’
“The officers of state bowed reverently and answered: ‘Shall we
not faithfully carry out the beneficent commands of His Majesty the
King?’
“The site of the temple was in Kyung-haing Ward of the Capital,
and the circumference thereof was over 2000 paces. When King
(Kang-hun) 康憲, T’ai-jo 太祖, first set up his capital in Han-yang, this
temple was the head of the Cho-ge sect of Buddhists, which sect at that
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The Pagoda of Seoul
time had disappeared, and their temple had been left deserted. It had
become a public meeting place, and had been so used for forty years or
more.
“In the 6th moon of the year in question, His Majesty paid a visit
to the place and looked it over. Paik-ak Mountain appeared as a protective
influence to the north, and Mok-myuk bowed reverently toward the
temple from the south; while the site itself looked toward the sun-lit
quarter. The ground was clean and neat, and just such a place as would
suit a special temple, so His Majesty commanded the followers of Prince
Hyo-ryung (the King’s uncle) to appoint a committee to take charge of the
work.
“They put up sheds at Tol-mo-ro (Suk-oo) 石隅, and there
began work on the image of the Buddha, when suddenly a cloud of glory
came down and settled on the house, and many flowers fell from mid-air,
flowers of all the five colours. Prince Hyo-ryung’s Committee at once sent
word to His Majesty announcing what they had seen, and then he himself
came forth to the Keun-jung Palace and received the congratulations of
his ministers. There he issued a general pardon, and promoted all the
officials one degree each in rank.
“In the 9th moon, on the day of kap-ja, clouds of light appeared
over the main temple, that shot up their streamers into the blue sky and in
front of the Ham-wun Palace. Again the officials wrote out their
congratulations, and pressed them upon His Majesty. He again announced
a general pardon and good will to the people. A great company of skilled
workers had [page 10] assembled, and though the King ordered them to take
their time, they worked with extra diligence. The four divisions of society,
officials, farmers, manufacturers and merchants, all made contributions.
Each, fearing that he might be last, worked so hard that on the eul-myo
day of the 10th moon the work was finished.
“Reckoning up the number of pillars supporting the building they
were found to exceed 300. The Hall of the Buddha stood up high in the
centre, and the inscription board above was written Tai kwang, myung jun,
大光明殿, Great-light Glorious-palace. To the left was the Sun-tang 禪堂
or Study Hall, while to the right was the Oon-chip, or Assembly Hall. The
gate was marked Chuk-kwang Moon 寂光門, Hidden Light, and the outer
gate was called Pan-ya 般苦, or Likeness Gate. Beyond this again was
the Hai-tal Moon 解脫門. There was a bell pavilion also which was
called the Pup-noi kak 法雷閣, Kiosk of Buddhas’s Thunder. The kitchen
was named Hyang-juk 香寂寮, Kitchen House. There was a pond on the
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The Pagoda of Seoul
east side where lotus flowers were planted; and on the west was a garden
park where flowers and trees grew. Behind the Cheung-jun 正殿 Palace
the sacred books were in keeping, and this house was called Hai-jang
Chun 海藏殿 or Sea Covering Hall. Also a Pagoda was built of 13
stories called Sul-to-pa 窣堵婆 (Buddhist Pagoda). Within it were
placed the accumulated sa-ri and the newly translated Wun-gak Sutra.
The palaces, halls, studies, guest-rooms, stores, kitchen, outhouses, had
each their particular place. The whole was magnificent and well
constructed, and the ornaments were lavish, imposing, beautiful, all in
keeping and fair to see. Its equal was nowhere to be found. Also the drums,
gongs etc., necessary for the service, and other useful implements were
abundantly provided for.
“On the 8th day of the 4th Moon of the year following, 1465, all
the noted priests from the national monasteries assembled to celebrate the
completion of the printing of the Wun-gak Sutra and the building of the
house. At this time His Majesty the King came forth and took part, his
Ministers [page 11] being present as well as envoys who came with presents
and tribute from afar. During the time of assembly rainbow clouds
appeared above them, and flowers from heaven fell like rain. A white
dragon ascended up to the height and a pair of herons danced among the
clouds. Thus many favourable and propitious signs accompanied it. The
assembled company saw these things with their own eyes, and out of
gladness gave presents of cloth and rice to the officiating priests.
“On the 8th day of the 4th moon of the year following the Pagoda
was finished (1466), and a general assembly was again convened. The
King himself was present, when flowers again fell from heaven and the
glory of the sari once more appeared. White streamers that shot up into the
sky, were at first divided as into two or three pillars. Then they circled
about till they became a wheel and multiplied into numberless circles. The
sun’s light became soft in its rays, and yellow in colour. Buddhist priests
and nuns, onlookers and laymen, gazed upward and did obeisance. It was
an innumerable company that saw and had a part.
“When His Majesty returned to the palace, students of the
classics, old men and musicians, united in a song of congratulation. The
people of Seoul, men and women, filled the streets, singing and dancing
with joy, and their expression of gladness was like the rolling thunder.
The King again issued a general pardon and all officers of state were
advanced one degree in rank. The various officials united in saying ‘We
have seen how Your Majesty has built this great temple, set up this Hall of
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The Pagoda of Seoul
the Buddha, and convened so great an assembly. We have seen the signs
and wonders that have accompanied it, such a thing as was never known
before. It is not sufficient that we recognize it as due to the influence of
the Buddha and the Bodhisat alone, but also to the virtue of His Majesty
the King, whose sincerity in religion has attained to the highest place of
union with the gods. We humbly request that this be carved in stone, so as
to be an eternal record for the future.’ Then the King called me, (Kim
Soo-on), and ordered me to [page 12] write. Thus I received the command
and in fear and trembling did not dare to refuse. I therefore make my
humble statement:
“Your Royal Majesty, born of Heaven, holy and wise beyond a
hundred kings, while still but a prince was far-seeing enough to quiet the
troubled state and to receive divine authority to rule, and thus You
ascended the throne. So diligently did You think out plans for the benefit
of Your people, that You scarcely had time to eat. Your exalted virtue and
good deeds resulted in harmony and good-will, so that rains came in their
appointed season, prosperity abounded and the people were happy with
abundant harvests. Thus Your Majesty ascended to the highest seat of
honour; Your fame was known throughout the world, and distant states
came without ceasing to make obeisance, came across dangerous defiles,
and over the stormy sea. Your Majesty’s excellence and exalted virtue
were such that even the Sam Whang and the O-je could not surpass. You
thought also of how the people in their long night of darkness were blind
and ignorant of the teachings of true religion, with no chance to ever know
the same. By means of the Holy Books, which You Yourself read and
studied, and then explained, You provided a way by which the people
might easily learn and know, not only for themselves but also for others.
And now, in the center of the capital, You have built a great temple
whither all mankind may gather, to learn the love and knowledge of the
Buddha. Your object is, that all the world, putting away evil and returning
to the right way, may finally reach the great sea of Yu-rai’s blessedness.
“Thus have officials, people, and those sharing in the work been
made extremely glad. Like children at a father’s bidding they came forth
and did in a month or two what could not have been done otherwise in
years. Great and wonderful it was! The King’s high aid and matchless
planning was in response to the great Buddha on high, and the wishes of
the people from below. All the spirits too yielded approval with joy, and
heaven and earth gave their witness, From the time [page 13] of its first plan
and beginning, many propitious proofs accompanied its advancement with
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The Pagoda of Seoul
the odours of fragrant incense. Beautiful and wonderful is the all-ruling

Buddha whose salvation extends for and wide. How shall I, a humble
servant, who sees but through the narrow opening of the bamboo, make
mention of the beauty of Buddha’s spiritual influence, or the King’s
imperial rule? Still, I was present at the Great Assembly, and saw these
wonderful things, Shall I not make them known, praise them, and let them
be heralded gloriously to the ages to come? Thus, I clasp my hands, bow,
and write this poem:
“Great and beautiful our King,
Blessed by Heaven with courage wide and wisdom;
Who saw the future, and made the rough place smooth;
Who made the stunted grow, and the prone to rise.
God gave the throne, the people gathered round;
Great was his command and glorious,
Once You became the King of Chosen,
You gave your heart and mind to kingship,
Following the footmarks of Yo and Soon, Moon and Moo,
堯舞文武
Making Your reign the equal of the Ancients,
With every fear and reverence added,
No hour was passed in idleness,
With righteous judgment and a righteous rule,
Ten years have rolled away,
Prosperity and abundance have been ours,
Like to the days of Heui-ho 熙皥.
Pityingly, you thought of the ignorant people,
Who, born of the same flesh and blood,
Are fallen in the darkened way,
Not knowing how to safely cross,
Then it was that the Wun-gak Sutra
Which is the mother of all religion,
Was explained by You and written out in full,
With characters and clauses, clear and plain,
[page 14]
So that all might easily understand,
Just as though the Buddha’s lips had spoken,
A bell was hung and a great assembly called,
Your kith and kin came forth to lead the way,
The rumor and the sound thereof
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The Pagoda of Seoul
Was like the roaring of the lion.

Spiritual responses came forth a hundred fold,
And reached the gracious hearing of my Lord the King,
Said He, ‘It is well,
Come to me all ministers and people,
Behold the blessings of the Yu-rai
Are beyond the mind to know or ken;
Abundant store has he,
How shall we speak the wonders of his working
An old site of a temple stood,
Within the ancient capital.
Why should this site not be restored,
So that the teaching may be known?
All the needed plans were drawn,
Just as His Majesty desired.
Then was Prince Po, by Royal command,
Made head and master of the work.
The people helped as children help a father,
And ere the days were passed it finished was,
Palaces, courts and rooms with balustrades―
Peacocks in flight, and birds upon the wing,
Thus was it made and finished.
A Pagoda also stands within the court,
Like to an ancient Ta-bo Tower.
Bells and gongs rang in the air,
Resounding out the law and doctrine,
Twice the great assembly gathered;
Twice the king came forth to see.
Marvels and wonders lent their presence,
Once and again in great abundance.
[page 15]
Men with eyes and ears both saw and heard;
All were made glad and happy.
The people of our state,
And even those beyond the border,
Spake with one mouth and happy heart
Calling aloud and singing praise,
Our good and gracious king
Came as the sage appears.
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The Pagoda of Seoul
A soldier he, and scholar too,

Such a reign his, as one among a thousand,
Our King heard with clearest ear,
Received into his heart the truth.
The influence of the All-wise,
And benefits of his gracious presence,
Were known to all the people,
As one awakens from a dream.
Our King hath loved us well
And peacefully provided,
Built a pagoda and a shrine,
So as to let the people know,
The fruits of righteousness were his,
Enlightened was the state.
Those who first saw, told others,
Who, coming after, awakened to the truth.
There is no limit to the greatness of this,
Wide its extended virtue.
How can one tell of all its sweetness?
On this fair stone I write it out.”
We had been led to understand from tradition that the pagoda
was built by Chinese and brought from China but this inscription would
seem to make it clear that it was erected here by Korean workers. The
kind of stone used is abundant about Seoul.
I quoted in the opening paragraph a sentence from Dr. Sekino in
which he says, “It is precisely the same in shape as the pagoda that stood
on Poo-so Mountain in front of Kyung-ch’un [page 16] Temple P’ung-tuk
County” and that pagoda is mentioned in the Yu-ji Seung-nam 興地勝覽
as follows; “Kyung-ch’un Temple stands on Poo-so Mountain, where
there is pagoda of 13 stories with 12 assemblies of the Buddha pictured.
The figures are most lifelike and definite in every detail, and the skill and
exactness with which they are made have no equals in the world.
“Tradition says that Minster T’al-t’al of the Mongols erected it to
make the place where he wished prayer to be made for himself. At that
time Prince Chil-yung, Kang Yoong, 姜瀜 had workers selected and sent
from Peking and they built the pagoda. Up to the present time, too, the
pictures of Kang Yoong and T’al-t’al are in the temple. On a hill to the
east this special kind of stone is to be found, called chim-hyang 沈香.”
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The Pagoda of Seoul
The writer of the Encyclopaedia was Su Ku-jung 徐居正 a

contemporary of Kim Soo-on and he says that already in his time tradition
had something to say regarding the pagoda in P’ung-tuk. Now tradition
does not speak in much less than a hundred years, and so the Pagoda of
Kyung-ch’un Temple was already old and weather-beaten before the one
in Seoul was erected in 1466. It is evident therefore that the one in Seoul
was made an exact copy of the one in P’ung-tuk, which was recently taken
to Tokyo and placed there.
There are three forms of memorial towers known to the East, the
pagoda, the dagoba and the tope. The pagoda and the tope commonly take
the form of a tumulus, a mound of earth or masonry. The dagoba is a heap
that commemorates the relics of some noted Buddhistic saint, without any
temple or hall for the Buddha being connected with it. The pagoda on the
other hand, quoting from the Century Dictionary “is a sacred tower
usually more or less pyramidal in outline, richly carved, painted or
otherwise adorned, and of several stories, connected or not with a temple.
Such towers were originally raised over relics of the Buddha, the bones of
a saint, etc., but they are now built chiefly as a work of merit on the part
of some pious person, or for the purpose of improving the luck of the
neighborhood.” [page 17]
The word pagoda comes from the Hindustani “but-kadah,” but
meaning image, and kadah temple. Chinese attempting to give the sound
rendered it by the characters peh, white; kuh, bond; and t’a tower,
peh-kuh-t’a or pagoda. (白骨塔).
This style of architecture, “pyramidal, richly carved and
ornamented” is Dravidian or Southern Indian. The story of how it found
its way across the inaccessible walls of the Himalaya Mountains, through
the vast continent of China, to this distant land on the sea, would embrace
the whole spiritual romance of the Buddhistic faith. One stands in awe
before the Buddha’s mighty relics, of which the Pagoda is one, and tries in
vain to measure the depth of its influence on the Oriental soul.
The pagodas of Korea are built, without exception, as far as I
have been able to find, to cover the relics or sa-ri of saints. These are said
to be not the bones, but gems that come forth from the head or brow of a
true master of the Buddhist faith.
That the results of deep study have to do with the physique is
something commonly accepted by the Oriental. A deeply versed Taoist we
are told, develops a halo that rises from his head or returns to it again as to
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The Pagoda of Seoul
a place of abode. So these sari are gems that grow in the brain or soul of
the Buddhist and when he is cremated they spring forth from the fires.
The Pagoda, then, was erected over the sa-ri of Suk-ka Yu-rai, as
I read from the inscription on the stone. Also the Wun-gak Sutra was
placed therein. This was the book that awakened in the King a great desire
for the Buddhist faith. Se-jo had murdered his nephew Tan-jong, and his
heart was in distress so he went to the Buddha for relief, and the Wun-gak
Book became his comfort and solace. This Su-tra gave the name to the
Temple and to the Pagoda, and so it is of special interest in this
connection. It is made up of twelve questions and answers, the questions
being asked by the assembled Bodisats and the answers given by the
Buddha.
Let me give you one of them as a sample.
“Question First:
The Moon-soo Sa-ri Bodisat arose among the many disciples
[page 18] assembled, bowed before the feet of Buddha, turned three times
round to the right, knelt, crossed his hands and said; ‘Great and merciful,
Highest of the High, I pray that in behalf of this assembly and those
gathered here You will tell us how Yu-rai, at the first, learned to live the
pure and holy life, also how we Bodisats may, by means of the Mahayana
Doctrine, win that pureness of heart that will drive away evil, and save the
races yet unborn from falling into sin.’ When he had said this he fell to the
earth, repeating his prayer many times, over and over again.
“The Buddha made answer:
“‘Good it is, my son, that you have, in behalf of those assembled,
asked how Yu-rai lived the holy life; also how the races yet to come may,
by means of the Mahayana Doctrine, win the perfect way, and not fall into
sin. Listen while I tell you, and while I speak into your ears.’
“The Moon-soo Bodisat, delighted to receive the teaching, sat
with all the assembled guests in deepest silence.
“‘Good child’ said he, ‘the High Buddha points to the Gate of
Tai-ta-ra-ni, which means Wun-gak, or Complete Enlightenment. From
this gate there flows forth purity and holiness, true and unchanging; also
the law by which one departs from anxiety and death, and the law by
which all defilement is put away. With this I would teach the listening
Bodisats.’
“‘The Law by which the Yu-rai came, finds itself in the perfect
Law of purity and enlightenment, the departure from darkness and the
entering into faith.’
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The Pagoda of Seoul
“‘As to what I mean by Darkness, good child, it is this! All living

beings have come from nothingness into an existence that experiences
many falls. Deceived they go blindly on, foolishly thinking that this
natural body is their real self, regarding its affinities and shadows as
objects on which to rest the mind. It is like the defective eye that sees
flowers in mid-air, or two moons in the sky. My dear child, there are no
flowers in mid-air, or two moons in the sky. Flowers in mid-air [page 19]
are seen by the diseased in mind only. Not alone are such deceived in the
shadow, but their nature is also deceived by the real flowers themselves.
Because of this defect the Wheel goes on with life and death bound to it.
This we call Darkness.
“‘My dear child, this that we call Lack of Light is not anything
that has form or can be seen. It is like things in a dream, which, while the
dream lasts, seem real, but when the waking comes, are gone. These are
indeed the mid-air flowers that vanish from the sight. We cannot tell
where they disappear to, nor how they disappear, but the reason for it is
that they are without being. So all mortals who are born into life, know
not whence they come, and know not whither they go. Hence comes the
Wheel with life and death hanging thereto.
“‘My dear child, the one who enters the Enlightened Way which
is the origin of the Yu-rai, knows that mid-air flowers have no being or
existence, no body or soul, no death or life, no origin or reason.
“‘Thought is an actuality and yet it is an unseen and
imperceptible thing, like Nothingness itself, and Nothingness is the
koong-wha-sang, 空花相 Flowers in Mid-air. One cannot say however
that there is not a mind that thinks. When once this mind that thinks has
rid itself of active thought then it can be said to have attained to
Cheung-gak Soo-soon, 淨覺隨順 Pure Enlightenment, Simplicity of
Action.
“‘Now, as to how this comes to pass, Nothingness pertains to
mind and cannot be influenced by change. Thus the hidden heart of Yu-rai
never increases, never decreases. Thinking and seeing have no part in it. It
is like the sphere of the world of the Buddha, rounded and complete filling
all the Ten Regions. This is called the origin of the Pup-haing or the
Buddha. Ye Bodisats, by means of this, and through the Mahayana Faith
are able to develop the heart of purity. When mortals act according to the
In-ji Pup-haing, they will never fall into sin or evil.’
“At this time the All-Highest, desirous of making the [page 20]
thought clear, repeated what he had said. He added ‘Oh Moon-soo Bodisat,
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The Pagoda of Seoul
all the Yu-rai from the beginning of the way, have by means of knowledge
awakened to this Lack of Light; they have awakened to know that through
Lack of Light men see flowers in mid-air. Thus have they escaped the
Wheel of transmigration, and like the man who awakens from a dream to
find it nothing, thus have they seen the world. Once enlightened, they
know this that fills all the Ten Regions of the Universe. Once they enter
the Faith of the Buddha, attain to the Doctrine, and cease from
Transmigration, they find at the end Nothingness of Nothingness. The
reason for this is that the original nature of Yu-rai is final and complete.
Give your minds, oh Bodisats, to this truth and show that if mortal man
purifies himself thus he will never fall into sin.’”
This is only one of the questions and one of the answers, but it
will, perhaps, give an idea of the book that moved the King to build the
Pagoda.
On the Pagoda itself are marked twelve Assemblies. These have
no relation to the Twelve Assemblies seen in the Wun-gak Sutra or to the
questions asked and answered there. The Assemblies carved on the
Pagoda are named after famous Sutras or Sacred Books that have to do
with the wider explanation of the Faith.
NAMES OF THE ASSEMBLIES.

I ― Neung-am Assembly 榜嚴會. This name comes from that of
a famous Sutra that was translated into Chinese in 1312 A.D. When this
original assembly was held 28 bodisats gathered and listened to an
explanation of the seven stages passed in the journey of the soul.
II ― Pup-hwa Assembly 法華會. This likens the law of the
Buddha to the lotus that comes forth from the miry earth and blooms a
beautiful flower. Of three special stages in the heavenly way, this
assembly stands for the highest attainment in the spiritual life.
III ― Ryong-wha Assembly 龍華會. This assembly teaches [page 21] that
the Miruk Buddha will have charge of the final kalpa, or age to come.
IV ― Yak-sa Assembly 藥師會. This assembly praises the virtue
of the Yak-sa, and tells how he awakened to the Faith and became a
Buddha.
V ― Ta-bo Assembly 多寶會. In this assembly the Ta-bo
Buddha tells by question and answer how he came to a knowledge of the
Truth.
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The Pagoda of Seoul
VI ― Mi-ta Assembly 彌陀會. This tells of Amida Buddha, the

eternal one, who had no beginning and no end. He was before
Sa-ka-mo-ni.
VII ― So-jai Assembly 消灾會. In this assembly appears the
Ta-ran Buddha. He tells how evils shall be done away with and blessing
secured.
VIII ― Wha-eum Assembly 華嚴會. This assembly tells how the
sunlight touches first the highest peaks of the hills, and later those lower.
It suggests the great ones who first know and understand. All the Bodisats
and the angels attend this assembly, and eight armies of dragons
accompany them as well.
IX ― San-se-pool Assembly 三世佛會. At this meeting the
Buddhas of the past, present, and the future, all assemble.
X ― Chun-tan Su-sang Assembly 栴檀殊像. Su-ka-yu-rai
ascended to heaven from the land of Oo-jun. After his departure a great
desire to see him once more possessed his disciples, so the king of Oo-jin
had an image made out of Chin-tai wood. From this time on, images of the
Buddha appeared. After a long time Su-ka Yu-rai came back to earth at
which time the image became a living Buddha, and the two walked side
by side. Crowds came to bow, but they could not tell which was the
Buddha and which was the image. This is the assembly that took place at
the time.
XI ― Wun-gak Assembly 圓覺會. This assembly met to
ascertain the requirements of Complete Enlightenment. The answer was:
First to keep the commandments, and second to keep the heart pure. (This
is the assembly told of in the Sutra that was the means of the erection of
the Pagoda.) [page 22]
XII ― Ryong-san Assembly 靈山會. In the Spirit Mountain
represented here, Su-ka Yu-rai spent much of his life. He discusses with
his disciples the three stages of the Buddha’s career.
Above these Assembly names on the south side of the Pagoda is
seen still another small tablet from which the characters have been effaced,
but judging from what still remains it seems to have been the name
Wun-gak t’ap, the Wun-gak Pagoda or Tower of Perfect Enlightenment.
1-The Pagoda was therefore built in 1464-1466 A.D.
2-The builder was King Se-jo who reigned from 1456 to 1468,
and the workmen were all Koreans.
3-The form of it was modelled after the Pagoda in P’ung-tuk
County, which had already been standing nearly a hundred years, and had
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The Pagoda of Seoul
been built by Chinese workmen. There is no evidence that this pagoda had
ever been brought from Peking though it finds its final resting place now
in Tokyo.
4-It was built to commemorate the excellence of the Wun-gak
Sutra from which it takes its name.
5-It is by far the most interesting Buddhist monument in Korea.
239
240
Volume VI, Part II.
[page 23]
Hunting and Hunters’ Lore in Korea.

By H. H. Underwood.
When curiosity prompted me a few months ago to attempt to find

out what kind of animals I was hunting, I was surprised to discover that it
was a field that had hardly been touched. It is to be hoped that some one
qualified for this work will take it up and treat it more thoroughly and
authoritatively than it is possible for me to do.
I first turned to a fairly complete collection of books on Korea
only to meet with statements ranging from the assertion that Korea
abounded in alligators and crocodiles to the more truthful though hardly
more helpful one that game of all kinds is to be found here.
Finally, in the last chapter of Captain Cavendish’s book, “Korea
and the Sacred White Mountain,” I found a list of the animals which he
had seen or heard of in Korea. In the main he has given the scientific
names, and has starred those that he personally saw, while some of the
others he has carefully marked as doubtful. This list has been of
considerable help, though as I went on, I have been presumptuous enough
to differ with Captain Cavendish, despite the fact that he was evidently
much better equipped to deal with the subject than I. Nevertheless, I feel
that the fact that he only spent a couple of months in the country and was
ignorant of the language, to a certain extent compensates for his better
equipment in knowledge of the subject, and in several cases I am forced to
believe that Captain Cavendish was mistaken in what he thought he saw.
Turning from books to native sources, the material available is
varied and vari-coloured in the extreme, and you have the advantage or
disadvantage, according to the development of [page 24] your conscience,
of taking and leaving what you like. Their animal stories begin with the
folk-tales, with which we have no concern here, and these merge into
other stories of animals endowed with supernatural powers, which to them
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Hunting and Hunters’ Lore in Korea
are matters of fact. Of such is the story of the snow-white fox, several
hundred years old, who to this day haunts the slopes of Kwan-ak-san.
These again are followed by a series which have their birth in
carelessness in observation, unbounded credulity and wild exaggeration.
Naturally the city-bred people around us can tell one little or nothing
about the animals, and many of them are ignorant of even the names of all
but the commonest species. The average farmer is only a degree better and
it is to the hunters and trackers that you must go for the modicum of truth
which lies beneath the covering of superstition, exaggeration and
ignorance.
A word or two in regard to these hunters and trackers and how
they hunt. Even among hardy mountain people, they are remarkably
strong and vigorous. On two occasions I have had men of over sixty who
raced up and down the hills and through the thick underbrush as though
they were boys. They left me far behind, several times offering to carry
my gun for me. Once, when stupid farmers, acting as beaters, has bungled
things, an old gentleman of over seventy, a famous hunter in his day,
offered to guide us and apparently found no great difficulty in climbing
the hills and beating through the brush. Most of them are good trackers;
one big fellow over six feet, hardly stooped to look at the tracks but strode
along as though he was following a path. I saw them track a boar back and
forth over the hills for the greater part of three days without being
seriously at fault once, and they told me of trackers who could estimate to
within an ounce or so the weight of a stag’s horns from its tracks.
Captain Cavendish says that the Koreans are too lazy and
cowardly to beat for tigers, and there are undoubtedly many Koreans
whom no money would induce to hunt tigers. But as [page 25] I have
watched them beat and noted the kind of territory that they had to go over,
it never occurred to me to call them lazy; and personally I think that a man
might be excused for hesitating about beating for tiger, though the
Koreans do it without making any fuss at all. The beaters are, of course,
entirely unarmed, while even the hunters were formerly armed with a gun
that was effective at only comparatively short ranges. This gun took an
unconscionable time to load after it was once fired and had no stock to
rest against the shoulder and steady the aim, but was held pistol fashion
and its fuse was as likely as not to go out at the wrong moment.
By beaters I do not mean a crowd of men who merely go through
the woods and make a noise, but a few men who by watching the position
of the other beaters, the lay of the land and the direction the animal is
242
taking, systematically drive him in. The hills are so precipitous that the
game will cross the ridges and valleys by one of a few fairly well marked
cuts or drives if the beaters do their work well. The hunter climbs up to
one of these places and waits, sometimes half an hour, sometimes three or
four hours, and I once sat at the top of a pass from 12:00 till 4:30. In cold
weather you can tell the time by the changing feelings in your feet, but
after a couple of hours the feeling ceases and their usefulness is at an end
till the next time. Two or three good beaters who know the country and
the habits of the game will send them in every time, while ten or twelve
men who merely make a noise will let the animals slip back again and
again.
But let us turn to the animals themselves, beginning with the deer.
Many Koreans will tell you that there are but two kinds of deer in the
country, Noro and Sasim. Closer inquiry among the hunters will show that
they subdivide the Noro into three species, Po-noro; Hyang-noro,
sometimes called Kuk-noro; and Tai-noro, known in some parts as
Ko-ra-ni. The Sasim are also divided into two species under the rather
indefinite manes of Kang-won Province Sasim and Ham-Kyung Province,
Sasim, the does of [page 26] both kinds of Sasim being known by the
specific feminine noun, Ner-aingai. The natives, then, divide the deer of
the country into five species and it remains for us to determine whether
this division in correct and if so what these species are.
The po-noro are small deer, without horns in either sex, the
males of which have the upper canines highly developed into large sabre
like tusks, three or four inches in length. Mr. Reppert, while living here,
shot two of these deer near Munsan-po or Buzan and it was from him that
I first heard of them. Later other foreigners mentioned having seen them
and I learned from the Koreans that they never have horns. In looking
these up I was rather puzzled by the fact that Lydekker in his book, “Deer
of all Lands,” states that there are but two species of deer having these
characteristics, i. e. the water deer of China and the musk deer. But
inquiry and observation soon showed that they are always found on the
plains by the river, their very name meaning “plains-deer.” Mr. Reppert
shot his by the river; Dr. Underwood told me that the first he ever saw
were in the reeds by the river; and I found that all the places mentioned by
the Koreans as frequented by the po-noro were close by a river or large
stream, though in some cases they have been driven to the low hills as
much as ten or fifteen li back from the water. Let us see how this
compares with what Lydekker says of the Water-deer: “A small member
243
of the deer tribe, from Northern China, differing from all other Cervidae,
except the musk deer, (with which it has no affinity), by the absence of
antlers in both sexes. To compensate for this deficiency the bucks are
armed with long sabrelike tusks. The species typifies a genus, and is
known as Hyrelaphus inermis. Water-deer frequent the neighborhood of
the large Chinese rivers where they crouch among the reeds and grasses.”
It seems therefore as though it is safe to say that the ponoro is the Chinese
water-deer.
By way of introduction to the Korean hyang-noro, I would call
your attention to a line in the above quotation from Mr. Lydekker: “The
water-deer differ from all other [page 27] Cervidae except the musk-deer by
the absence of antlers in both sexes.” While inquiring about the po-noro, a
Korean, who has hunted pretty well all over the country, told me that, in
the higher mountains of Kang Won province, deer were hunted for the
perfume contained in a small sac in the abdomen of the males. This be
stated was a somewhat inferior grade of the same perfume from China. I
went immediately to a Korean acquaintance of mine, who is a partner in
one of the wholesale hide firms outside the South Gate. There are four of
five of these companies in Seoul and most of the skins which come to the
city pass through their hands. He confirmed all that the first man had told
me and added that the fur was much coarser and more brittle than that of
the ordinary deer. Further inquiry among Koreans brought the information
that they were if anything smaller and darker in color than the po-noro,
and that they were usually found singly, though sometimes in pairs.
Compare this with the following description of the Musk-deer: “An
aberrant member of the deer family constituting the sub-family Cervidae
Moschinae. Both sexes are devoid of antler appendages but, as in the
Hydrelaphus inermis, the upper canines are long and sabre-like, projecting
below the chin with the ends turned somewhat backwards. In size the
musk-deer is about 20 inches at the shoulder. The hair covering the body
is long, coarse and of a peculiarly brittle character; it is generally of a
greyish brown color…… The special gland of the muskdeer is found in a
sac about the size of a small orange beneath the skin of the abdomen.”
When, in addition to the fact that the testimony of several classes
of Koreans tallies almost exactly with the above description, we
remember that musk is a well known commercial commodity in Korea I
think that in this case we are justified in taking the word of the Koreans
and concluding that the Hyang-noro of Korea is the musk-deer.
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The only objections which can be raised lie in the fact that the
range of the musk-deer, as usually stated, does not extend to the
neighborhood of Korea, nor do the altitudes at which they are [page 28]
usually found, from the Himalayas to Tibet, northwestern China, and
Siberia in the Altai region at altitudes of usually not less than 8000 ft, in
summer, correspond to the altitudes in Korea. The Siberian musk however
is a very inferior grade, and while the Altai mountains rise to great height
in certain peaks the mean altitude of the region is said to be between 5000
and 5500 ft. The higher mountains of the range that runs south from the
Paik-tu-san along the east coast of Korea would easily average between
3000 and 4000 feet while some rise to 5000 and 6000 feet. With the
difference in altitude no more than this and the fact that the musk of the
region from which they are most likely to have come is, like the Korean
article, of an inferior grade, it seems to me that we are forced to believe
that the musk-deer is here, and like many of our animals is an immigrant
from Siberia.
Captain Cavendish failed to see or hear of either the water-deer
or the musk-deer, but reports having seen a Muntjac of the species C.
Reevsi. I can not but think that what he saw was a water-deer and that
seeing the tusks he mistook it for a Muntjac. The Muntjac is a small deer
about the size of the water-deer but which has both horns and tusks. The
horns are rather peculiar, having a backward curve at the extremities
which almost amounts to a hook and the pedicles on which the horns rest
are very prominent, so much so that it is sometimes known as the ribfaced
deer. Another very noticeable feature is a black dorsal stripe. A deer with
these characteristics would surely attract attention, yet I have inquired
diligently. The hunters, one and all, stick to the assertion that there are
deer without horns and with tusks but that they have never seen or heard
of deer with horns and tusks.
It is both difficult and dangerous to state an absolute negative but
I can say that I, personally, am convinced that Captain Cavendish was
mistaken and that the Muntjac is not to be found in Korea.
The third species of deer is the Tai-noro, called Korani in [page 29]
many parts of the country. This is a small and very pretty deer, the males
of which have small antlers, with, as far as I can ascertain, only two tines.
They have no tail at all but a large spot of erectile white hairs on the rump
which serves as a guide to other members of the herd when in flight. I
have seen as many as seven or eight together but in the main they seem to
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travel in pairs. In color they vary from a light fawn to a dark greyish
brown that is almost black in certain lights.
My first impression was that these were identical with the
Japanese sika deer. But the sika are described as having a short black and
white tail with black markings around it, while these deer have no vestige
of a tail nor any black markings on them at all. I can hardly believe
therefore that these are the Japanese sika and my information is too
meagre to enable me to determine what they are.
Next above the tai-noro in size we have the sasim, which, as I
have said, the natives rather indefinitely divide under the names Kang
Won Province sasim and Ham Kyung Province sasim. The first of these is
apparently a species of sika deer known as Sika Mantchouricus, of which
a specimen is to be seen in the Zoo in this city. They are a fairly large deer
considerably darker as a rule than the korani, spotted in summer and with
large handsome antlers.
The Ham Kyeung sasim I have not seen though antlers have been
brought to the house which I was told were those of Ham Kyeung
Province deer. While the evidence which I personally have seen is rather
slender I am inclined to agree with Captain Cavendish that this is the Red
deer or Cervus Elephas. The antlers are certainly quite different from
those of Kang Won Province deer, being not only much larger but
different in shape and in the angle which they make with the head.
Before leaving the subject of deer I want to be bold enough to
attempt another negative statement. Captain Cavendish mentions the
existence of fallow deer in Korea. Taking just one point, these are deer
whose antlers are palmated to a considerable extent. I have been unable to
find any [page 30] Koreans who had even heard of such a thing as the
palmation of a deer’s antlers. Nor have I heard of any foreigner in any part
of the country having ever seen such deer. Personally I feel convinced
that there are only five species of deer in the country and that the two
smallest of these are respectively the Water-deer and the Musk-deer, and
that the Kang Won deer is the Sika Mantchouricus. I am inclined to
believe the Ham Kyeung deer to be the Red deer and I am free to confess
my ignorance as to the identity of the tai-noro. On the other hand I am
quite sure that neither the Muntjac nor the Fallow deer exist in this
country though I do not feel ready to make a definite statement to that
effect.
From deer the next step brings us to mountain goats, which are to
be found in various parts of this country. Captain Cavendish mentions in
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his list four or five species of mountain goats, sheep, and goat-antelopes,
of which he saw only one, and as far as I have been able to ascertain none
of the others are to be found in Korea. The first on his list and the one
which he has starred as having seen is the Nemorhedus caudata. This is
the Goral or the Himalayan chamois. The more usual scientific name is
the Nemorhedus goral and its range extends from the Himalayas
northward to Manchuria and Korea, though I have not found mention of
its existence in Korea except in Captain Cavendish’s book.
When I was in Kang Won province last December the hunters
told me of a place not far away where mountain goat were to be found. I
wished to go and try my luck at the time but they said that at that time of
the year the ice and snow made it impossible to get anywhere in the
neighborhood of the peaks where the goats were. I therefore made
arrangements to visit the place in the spring. This I did, and after a couple
of hours of hard climbing up and over about the worst bit of country I
have seen, we succeeded in getting four fairly good specimens. I had
expected that the horns would be hooked as are the chamois horns. The
Koreans had not only told me that they were, but added that the animals
made use of these hooks in a [page 31] novel and ingenious way. It would
seem that when they go to sleep on some lofty or precarious ledge they
hook their horns over the branch of a convenient tree and thus insure
themselves against falling off even if troubled with nightmare. I was told
that the horns were worn smooth on the under side from being used in this
way and so was keenly disappointed to find that they would not allow of
this. The animals were considerably larger than I had expected, and the
Koreans claimed that farther back in the hills, where even in April the
snow and ice made the cliffs inaccessible, still larger ones were to be
found. The height at the shoulder for the four we got was respectively 26,
27, 28, 29 inches; the horns were only 6 or 7 inches long; from the nose to
between the horns was 11 inches for the largest and 8 inches for the
smallest; while from between the horns to the tip of the tail was
respectively 50, 53, 54 and 57 inches. In color they are a beautiful
greyish-brown with pure white on the neck and belly, and a black dorsal
stripe. The hair is long, thick and remarkably soft; the tail, which was
longer than I had expected, shades from the brown grey of the body to
white at the tip. As to their weight, I should judge that they must have
been well over one hundred and fifty pounds, for the beaters, who would
pick up a seventy or eighty pound deer and trot off as though it were a
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mere feather, had all they could do to carry these at all, and how they ever
got them over the steep slippery pass on the way out I cannot tell.
I feel that in recompense for the hard things that I have said
about the country I must say a word for it in return. The steep, black cliffs,
with the pines in some miraculous way clinging to them here and there,
fell almost sheer to the river which twisted by in a succession of rapids a
full thousand feet below. In places it has cut for itself a deep canyon
through the solid rock and with the snow covered mountains on every side
it made a scene well worth the trip, had we gotten no game at all.
The Koreans call these animals mountain sheep, as a matter of
fact they are not sheep but goats. I have not been [page 32] able to hear of
mountain sheep in Korea though Captain Cavendish mentions having
heard of the Argali. These are the near relatives of the Rocky Mountain
Bighorn and are supposed to be the original from which the stock of
domestic sheep was derived. I understand that some of these sheep were
shot in Manchuria and if so it seems at least possible that they might be
found in the mountains of northern Korea, though men who have hunted
in both Manchuria and Northern Korea tell me that they have never seen
them on this side of the border. Captain Cavendish also mentions two
kinds of antelopes, the Saiga tartarica and the Procapra gutturosa and also
the ibex, though he marks these as doubtful and I feel that they are more
than doubtful.
If, however; these animals are to be marked as doubtful there is
on the other hand no doubt whatsoever about the wild boar, as the farmers
will tell you most emphatically. Wild boars are distributed over a large
part of the world and have many interesting features zoologically, of
which I will mention only one here. They have four complete toes of
which the two median ones are used in walking on dry land, the lateral
ones being too short to reach the ground, but these prevent the animal
from sinking in soft or marshy territory. The Korean boars apparently
compare favorably in size with those in other parts of the world. The
Indian boar, which measures 30 to 40 inches at the shoulder, is said to be
larger than the European member of the family, yet the smallest that we
measured stood 28 inches at the shoulder, the largest a full 40 inches, and
the Koreans claim that there are considerably larger ones than any I have
seen. I was told of one which weighed over 500 lbs. and had nine inch
tusks. The color of the animals varies largely, ranging from almost black,
through iron-grey, to a greyish brown. Beneath the long stiff bristles
(sometimes 8 inches on the back) there is a softer curling undercoat of
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dirty brown. The animals are very plentiful in the mountain regions and
are on the increase. They are a great pest to the farmers, as one large boar
is said to be quite [page 33] capable of ruining the crops in a day’s plowing
in one night. What they do not eat they root up, and I have seen fields
which looked as though some one had been hard at work getting ready to
plant trees. One of the Koreans described the appearance of one field by
saying that the boars had built themselves a house with women’s quarters,
guest room, kitchen and stables complete. They quite often travel in herds,
the Koreans reporting having seen 14 or 15 in a herd, though I myself
have never seen more than seven. The larger ones go by themselves and it
is these that are supposed to be dangerous. There are undoubted cases of
their charging even when unwounded, and only last fall a Japanese was, I
believe, almost killed by one not far from this city. Once I thought that
one, coming straight toward me, was coming all the way, but, as I
straightened up to make sure of him, he saw me and turned to one side,
thus giving me all the excitement and none of the inconvenience of his
really charging. One of the men went up to a boar that was supposed to be
dead and was knocked down the hill as the price of his mistake, but
otherwise I have seen no sign of anything but a desire to get away, which
they do at an astonishing rate, carrying a surprising amount of lead with
them. The old Korean guns often failed to get the bullet through the tough
hide and one of the hunters claims to have shot a boar from various parts
of whose anatomy he extracted a small bowlful of Korean slugs. The boar
I spoke of above had a hole clear through him from side to side and yet
was going at such a rate that I supposed I had missed his entirely, and
another one took three soft-nosed bullets from a modern high-power rifle
before he stopped. The natives tell great stories of the big ones to be found
in the more inaccessible mountains. They assured me that there were
boars with tusks 12 to 18 inches long, the nearest approach to this, that I
know of, being the one I mentioned with nine inch tusks. In weight they
vary greatly according to the time of year. In fall and early winter they
have a layer of fat two and three inches thick and in the spring practically
none. They are fond of wallowing in the mud and [page 34] the bristles
become so caked with it that the Koreans claim that small pine trees grow
on the backs of the larger boars. Pak, one of my men, stated that he
himself had shot one with seedling pines growing on it and when I
laughed at him, he naively remarked, “If I’d been telling that story to any
one else I would have told them the trees were big enough for roof beams,
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but seeing that it was you I made them only seedlings, and as you don’t
believe even that I wish I’d told you that they were bigger.”
There is one more interesting item which I must mention before I
leave the subject of wild boars. As nearly as I can ascertain they make
shelters for themselves. The Koreans claim that there are two kinds, one
made by the boars and one made by the sows for their young. I have seen
only the first, but perhaps before I go further I should explain what I mean
by a shelter.
One day on the hills I saw what appeared to be a low mound and
on inquiring what it was they told me that it was a boar’s “house.” I
kicked the snow off the top and disclosed a pile of sticks, straw, grass and
small branches, the whole about five or six feet across. Borrowing a stick
from one of the beaters, I started to scatter the branches and see what was
underneath, but found that, carelessly as they seemed to be laid on, they
were so twisted and matted together that it was almost impossible to tear
them apart. Finally two of us put our sticks under the whole thing and
lifting it up threw it back where it lay still intact. Underneath the ground
had been dug out to a depth of about eight or ten inches in a hollow a little
smaller than the covering. I couldn’t understand how the boar got in, till
the Koreans stated that he lifts the covering with his snout and once in, the
blanket, as you might call it, falls back snugly over him. Later I saw many
of these things on the hills. It is true that I never saw one being made, or
saw a boar in one, but I have seen them with plenty of tracks around. They
certainly were not made by men and they certainly are made. Personally I
am inclined to believe that they are the work of the boars. [page 35] The
second kind are said to be much more substantial, made of larger sticks
and raised from the ground. These the Koreans state are made by the sows
for their young. Not having seen them I merely state that the Koreans
claim that they exist, with the full knowledge that the Koreans state and
claim many wonderful things.
Less common than the boars, but still quite numerous, despite the
fact that several writers on Korea deny their existence, and even Captain
Cavendish makes no mention of them whatsoever, are the wolves. Oppert,
for instance, says that while the name, irrui is known in the far north,
neither name or beast is known in the interior of the country. Other later
writers state that it was unknown up to about fifteen years ago. In this
there is what I believe to be a half truth. But to explain my meaning I must
pause to speak of the wolves now in the country.
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There are two species, a small wolf known as irrui and a much
larger one known as mal-seungyeungi or neuktai. Dr. Underwood tells me
that the first winter that he was here, thirty years ago, he met a Korean
whose village had been suffering quite badly from the attacks of irrui
packs, made bold by the winter. Koreans getting on in years have told me
that the irrui have been in Korea ever since they could remember and that
their fathers before them had told them of these wolves, which would
seem to dispose of the statement that they were formerly unknown.
About fifteen years or so ago reports began to come in to the
government in Seoul from various parts of the country of what many
Koreans claimed was a hitherto unknown wolf. Much larger than the irrui,
it was also much bolder and often attacked women and children. So
serious was the pest that bounties were placed on the skins and in certain
districts troops were detailed to hunt them down. Due to this activity they
decreased rapidly for a time, but since the law restricting the use of
firearms they have apparently been increasing again. I am unable to tell
the technical names of these two kinds of wolves [page 36] nor can I
describe them very accurately. Koreans tell me that the two wolves in the
Zoo here are both small neuktai. At the time that they first made their
appearance in the country or first attracted attention, whichever it was, the
theory was advanced that they were large Siberian wolves, driven south
by special conditions, climatic or otherwise, in Siberia. Since then I have
heard both them and the irrui described as hyenas, jackals, wild-dogs, or
any other name that came handy, none of which seemed to fit. In colour
they are decidedly tawny, while as to their size the native reports are wild
beyond belief, as is shown by the use of the word malseungyeungi or
horse-wolf. I know of an authentic case however which shows the size
that some of them attain. It seems that some years ago near Syenchun, a
boy was bending over, working in the fields when a larger wolf stole out
of the woods and seized him. Shouts and the approach of men working in
another part of the field drove the beast off, and the boy, a good sized
twelve year old, was hurried to Dr. Sharrocks who personally treated him
and on whose word I have it that teeth marks from the upper jaw reached
almost to the spinal column while those left by the lower jaw extended to
the breast bone.
The irrui, as far as I can learn, are much smaller, being about the
size of an ordinary Korean dog and often travel in packs. I have never
heard of more than one or two neuktai being seen at a time.
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The Koreans claim that on occasions the irrui and neuktai hunt
together, the irrui acting as beaters and driving in the game which the
neuktai then pulls down and kills. In the division of the spoils the neuktai
takes his share first and then apportions the rest by weighing the irrui one
by one in his jaws and giving out the meat according to the weight of each
wolf. The man who told me this added that, while he had not witnessed
this himself, he had heard it from credible sources. I hope you will say as
much for me.
With regard to the bears of which there are also two species we
are a little better informed. These are the black bear [page 37] and the
oriental brown bear, known respectively as Ursus tibetanus and Ursus
arctos and are fairly common in this country. I have, however, seen no
sign of polar bears or any valid reason for labelling an ordinary brown
bear a polar bear or Ursus maritimus as has been done in the Seoul Zoo. In
talking with Koreans about these animals, I learned that in the mountain
districts of the north the natives use both snow-shoes and a kind of rude
ski. They also told me the story of a bear and one of these Korean
mul-pang-ors or water mills. It seems that the bear was attracted by the
idea of using the grain in the mill for his breakfast. As he stooped to get it
however the beam came down and struck him a heavy blow. He was
annoyed and tried to return the blow only to find that the beam was up in
the air beyond his reach. He stooped again, and again it came down and
hit him. This time he was really angry and grabbing it, beat it soundly. But
as the stream continued to flow it failed to learn a lesson and hit him again.
This time he got hold of it and held it down. But not only did it take all his
strength to hold it down, but when it was down, of course the grain was
under it and out of his reach. In the end the faithful mill administered a
lucky blow on the head and when he arrived on the scene the miller found
not only his grain intact but a dead bear into the bargain.
Last of all we come to the big cats, the leopards and tigers, The
average Korean lumps them all under the expressive word “Poum.” On
flags and screens, or gates and ceilings we are all familiar with the Korean
tiger. Around him have gathered tales and superstitions that are well
symbolized by the clouds of smoke and fire with which he is usually
enveloped on gates and walls. In the good old days, which are so often
thrown at us, his appearance always presaged disaster. In Wonsan, I
believe, on cold nights you could meet him prowling on the streets. Last
year one was seen at the North Gate of this city. Villagers tell of pigs,
dogs and sometimes people carried off; and yet where is he? Seen in one
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village tonight, he kills in a village a hundred [page 38] li from there before
daylight. It is this quality that particularly fills the average Korean with
dread and awe. The tiger apparently has no particular haunts but ranges
free from ridge to ridge, scaring the villagers in a dozen valleys with the
rolling echo of his roar as he prowls. Great strength, ferocity, cunning, and
many other qualities, real and imaginary, are attributed to him. But despite
all this the natives have since time immemorial hunted him with their old
matchlocks. Mr. Griffis said that the Koreans expressed the difference
between the Korean gun and the modern rifle as “Bang! Wough! Dead
hunter!” and “Bang! Bang! Bang! Dead Tiger,” The phraseology Mr.
Griffis evidently got from a dime novel but the moral is the same. There
was no second bang for the Korean. This tended to produce good shooting
and cool nerves. You will remember that it was the tiger hunters who
discomfitted the French and again it was the tiger hunters who stood to
their guns to the last man and won the enduring admiration of our
American blue-jackets who fought them.
As to the animals themselves, Captain Cavendish mentions the
Royal tiger and the Chinese Lauhu and stars them both. Of the leopards,
he mentions three species, the Bulu, the Maou, and the snow leopard,
starring the Maou. My own knowledge of the subject here, as in most
instances, is almost nil and I have not been able to find anything on the
matter in any available work. That the Royal Tiger, Felis tigris, is the
ordinary large Korean tiger there can be no doubt. But as to what the
Chinese Lauhu is and how it differs from the Royal tiger I do not know
and have been unable to find out. Of the leopards I have been unable to
find any data on either the Maou or the Bulu. Most of the works which I
have been able to consult seem to have rather vague ideas on the subject
of leopards in general, the size of the animals being put considerably
smaller than many specimens that we have in Korea. The snow leopard is
the same as the Himalayan ounce and is scientifically known as the Felis
unica. It is smaller as a rule than the other leopards and of a greyish color
instead of the tawny yellow of the leopard [page 39] skins with which we
are all familiar. For this and other reasons I doubt very much whether the
three leopards here in the Zoo are really snow leopards as they are
labelled and am inclined to think that this labelling in due to the same
carelessness which I instanced in the case of the bears. From what the
Koreans tell me however, I am inclined to think that the snow-leopard is
really to be found in Korea. The Koreans divide the “peum” under the
following names: whangkaraymi, chikkaraymi and pyopeum. There are it
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is true, numerous other names in use but as far as I can ascertain they are
merely synonyms for one or other of these three. The word “horaingi” is
merely a general term and is used interchangeably with “peum.” The first
two are said to be both tigers, the Koreans thus agreeing with Captain
Cavendish that there are two kinds. The whangkaraymi is the largest of
the peum and is said to be yellow with black stripes. The chikikaraymi on
the other hand is not only smaller but the Koreans claim that instead of
yellow being the predominant color the animal is more aptly described as
black with yellow stripes. Whether this distinction really exists and is
valid or not I do not know, but the Koreans stoutly maintain that it is not
only the different appearance of individual members of the same family
but that there are two distinct kinds of tigers. The leopards are lumped
under the general name of pyo-peum or one of its synonyms, though some
of the hunters have told me that there are several kinds of leopards but that
they were all called pyo-peum. I myself have not had sufficient
opportunity for observation to be able to say whether these divisions are in
any way justified or not and can only offer them to you as I have received
them from the Koreans.
As to tiger hunting, the Koreans claim that it is impossible,
unless by lucky chance, to shoot a “fresh tiger” as they call one that has
not recently killed. He apparently haunts no one particular locality but
wanders where he pleases in the wilder and more inaccessible mountains.
It is said that in the course of these wanderings all good tigers visit at least
once Sam-gak-san or Pouk-han. A country man who [page 40] knows and
has seen nothing is compared to a tiger who hasn’t even seen Pouk-han.
When a tiger has killed, the hunters gather and track him to the hills and
note toward which peak he has gone. Knowing the habits of the beast and
every inch of ground they can tell where he has probably laid up and then
the beaters and hunters separate. In beating for tigers the natives claim
that once he is started out of his cover he will invariably go up hill to the
top of the tai-teung or main ridge and follow along it rather than go down
hill and cross the hills diagonally as other game do. The hunter therefore
takes his place behind an improvised screen of branches, on the ridge,
usually near the top of a slight rise as he can then see the tiger as he comes
down the opposite slope and has him below him when he fires. The
beaters work much as for other game and apparently think no more of it
than of beating for deer. When I asked if they were not afraid they told me
that there was no danger as there was no such custom as for an
unwounded tiger to attack the beaters, Personally I should think there
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might be one that refused to be bound by custom. The natives have stories
which show an idea somewhat similar to our own of the effect of the
steady gaze of the human eye on wild animals. Two of the men who were
with me on my last trip were once out tiger hunting and wounded a large
tiger. After reloading their guns and thawing the ice and snow on their feet
they tracked him over the ridge and suddenly saw him behind a large
fallen tree with only his head visible. He was about seventy yards down
the hill and as they wanted to get to closer range one of them sat down and
bracing his feet on the icy slope got a good rest for his gun over his knee
and kept his eyes fixed on the tiger while the other man started slowly
down the hill on one side of the ridge. For a minute or so all went well and
the tiger, though he saw the man sitting there did nothing but lash his tail.
Suddenly however the hunter’s foot slipped, he lost his balance and before
he could recover himself the tiger was up the hill and had him by the foot.
Fortunately the other hunter finished [page 41] the beast before serious
damage was done. They firmly believe to this day that if the one man had
been able to keep his eyes on the tiger and hold his gaze the other could
have gotten to point blank range with perfect impunity. The story may be
rather tall in several points but the idea is the same. It is not a matter that
lends itself to investigation or experiment but is none the less interesting.
Tales there are without number, the most grewsome of a hunt to kill the
tiger that carried off the young wife of one of the hunter’s friends and to
recover the remains; tales of unexpected encounters when both tiger and
man turned tail and ran from each other; of tigers who hypnotize the
hunters; tales of men literally scared almost to death and many others.
Before closing these few words which are merely an introduction
to some of the larger animals of the country I should like to mention a few
of the uses which the natives make of the blood, bones, fur and various
organs of the body. Residents of Korea know that the blood of the deer is
largely sought for medicine and men often go to the country and hire
hunters so as to drink it warm. What is true of deer’s blood is true to a
large extent of the blood of boar and goat and to a certain degree of many
of the animals though I understand that none are supposed to be as good
for this purpose as the deer. Deer’s horns in the velvet are in great demand
as medicine and bring handsome prices per ounce, the sasim being hunted
primarily for their horns. The noro horns are also used though not
esteemed as highly as the saṡim’s. Beside the occasional use of boar’s
blood, the long tough bristles on the back are used in making Korean hats
and several other articles, while certain organs of the body, when dried
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and powdered, bring high prices. Bears are also more hunted for the
medicinal value of certain parts of the body than for the skin, bones or
flesh though these all bring fair prices. With the tigers and leopards the
bones are almost if not quite as valuable as the skin and are exported to
China where they are even more highly regarded in the preparation of
drugs than here. [page 42]
Of course, to-day there are practically no Korean hunters on
account of the laws restricting the possession of fire-arms. That the
requiring of a license and the limitation of the hunting season are both
good measures, no one would attempt to deny, but as game laws the
present regulations leave much to be desired. The hunting season lasts at
least a month longer than it should, and, while a man must have a license
to own a gun, trap or falcon, no license for hunting is required. The result
is that in the spring when the deer are weakened by lack of food during
the long winter, parties are made up and the sasim are tracked and run
down without guns. The hills at this time are like glass on one side and
heavy with mud on the other and when there is a constant pursuit that
gives no time to stop and feed, the animals are usually run down in a week
or less. Thus instead of increasing during this time of few hunters they are
rapidly decreasing and are in danger of becoming extinct. Much the same
is true of the musk-deer and certain other animals. The present law is
apparently framed simply to restrict the use of fire arms and not at all with
reference to the preservation of the game. Again in preserving and
classifying the animals of the country the Zoological Gardens here have a
great opportunity of which they are apparently not taking full advantage.
Many common species are not to be found there and the classification has
not been done with the care that might have been expected. No labels will
transform ordinary bears into polar bears and the mere word cervus over a
deer is, even though true, beautifully indefinite. It is to be hoped that when
some of the many other improvements which the Goverment-general has
undertaken are completed more attention will be turned to this department
and that game preservation both in the Gardens and in the country at large
will be properly handled. This time cannot, however, be put off
indefinitely as each year thins the furred and feathered population of the
land. But even before Governmental attention is turned to this subject a
most interesting field is open to some one capable of dealing with it in the
way it merits. Either with camera or gun a trip [page 43] into the country is
its own reward. The kindly country folk, the air, the scenery, the long
days on the hills, and the people crowding into the little rooms, in the
256
evening, to tell and hear wondrous stories, all have an unmatched charm.
Added to this that one can travel with all the luxuries of home and even
the most critical could not complain. A glimpse of the people and their
lives in the evenings and a glimpse of the animals and splendid scenery
through the day, this is worth much.
257
258
Volume VII. 1916.
[page 5]
Gold Mining in Korea

Edwin W. Mills.
Preface.―Although the origin of gold mining in Korea cannot be

stated definitely, it can, however, be traced back to a period before the
beginning of the Christian era. Gold mining, in all probability, was
introduced by followers of Ki-ja (箕子) who migrated from China to
Korea in 1122 B.C.
This paper is presented with the hope that it may be the means of
stimulating further interest in one of the great resources of Korea, and that
others may be encouraged to add from their store of knowledge to the
information and data set forth in the following pages.
My experience in Korea extends over a period of thirteen years,
during which time I have visited all the gold-districts mentioned in this
paper. I have also been connected with the companies operating in the
three largest gold-producing districts, namely ― Unsan (雲山), Suan
(遂安), and Chiksan (稷山).
I take this opportunity to acknowledge my indebtedness to
Messrs. Alf Welhaven, A. H. Collbran, and J. J. Martin, General Managers
of the Unsan, Suan, and Chiksan Mines, respectively, who have kindly
given me the data relating to the gold production of their respective mines
for 1915. I am indebted also to Messrs. T. Kawanabe and S. Kawasaki, of
the Mining Section, Department of Agriculture, Commerce, and Industry,
of the Chosen Government-General, for the information given to me
regarding the gold production of Korea for the years 1905-1914, inclusive,
and for the production of the French concession. Acknowledgement is due
also to Mr. A. F. Deardorff, of the Unsan [page 6] Mines, for the
photographs of the “rocking” and “grinding” stones. Finally, I am greatly
indebted to Mr. Raymond S. Curtice, American Vice-Consul in Seoul, for
his kindness in providing me with the data relating to the gold production
of Korea for the years 1884-1915, inclusive.
259
Introduction.―The peninsula of Korea lies between 33° 12´ and

43° 02´ north latitude, and between 124° 13´ and 130° 54´ east longitude,
[*Annual Report on Reforms and Progress in Chosen (Korea), (1913-1914) Seoul,
July, 1915, p. 158.] and has an area of 84,173 square miles. It is bounded on
the north-west by the Ya-lu (Am-nok) River (鴨綠江), which separates it
from Manchuria and flows into the Yellow Sea. On the north-east it is
bounded by the Tu-man River(豆滿江), which separates it from Asiatic
Russia and flows into the Pacific Ocean. Its length is about 600 miles, and
its width ranges from 150 to 300 miles.
The total population of Korea, on December 31, 1913, was
estimated at 15,458,863 [*ibid. p. 159.]. Assuming that the ratio of increase
for the past two years has been constant, it may be estimated that the total
population, on December 3, 1915, was 17,000,000.
Korea, in general outline, is similar to Italy, and has been aptly
called the “Italy of Eastern Asia.” [*Koto, The Journal of the College of
Science, Imperial University of Tokyo, Japan, Vol. XIX, Article 1, 1903, p. 1 .] As
Italy projects between the Adriatic and Mediterranean Seas, so does Korea
extend southward between the Yellow Sea and the Sea of Japan. The
outline of Italy is generally compared to that of a boot, while that of Korea
may be taken to represent a rabbit in a standing position, and facing China.
[*ibid, p. 3.]
Korea is essentially a mountainous country; some of the
mountains are extinct volcanoes, and one especially noted is Paik-tu-san
(白頭山) (White Head Mountain), in the extinct crater of which lies a lake.
The eastern coast of Korea is very [page 7] mountainous, but the western
coast is much less so, although dotted with almost countless islands.
The climate is very much the same as found in the eastern states
of America between the same latitudes, with the exception of the “rainy
season,” which begins generally in June or July, and extends over a period
of six weeks. The climate, as a whole, is excellent.
The geologic formations are composed mainly of Archean and
Paleozoic rocks through which recent volcanic rocks have been intruded.
The climatic conditions have been extremely favorable for the deposition
of auriferous gravels which have been found in every one of the thirteen
provinces of Korea.
Appended to this paper is a General Map of Korea upon which
the principal gold-districts, including placer deposits, are shown.
North and South Korea. ― For not only topographic and
climatic reasons, but also on account of mining conditions, Korea may be
260
divided approximately into two equal halves by drawing a line obliquely

through the peninsula from Yong-heung Bay (永興灣), near Chemulpo
(仁川.) [Koto, The Journal of the College of Science, Imperial University
of Tokyo, Japan, Vol. XIX, Article I, 1903, p. 7.] This dividing line not
only forms a natural boundary, as shown by Prof. Koto, but it is
convenient for descriptive purposes. North Korea thus comprises the
following five provinces:- Whang-hai (黃海道), North Pyeng-an
(平安北道), South Pyeng-an (平安南道), North Ham-kyung (咸鏡北道),
and South Ham-kyung (咸鏡南道).
South Korea includes eight provinces, as follows:- Kyung-ki
(京畿道), Kang-won (江原道), North Kyung-sang (慶尙北道), South
Kyung-sang (慶尙南道), North Choong-chung (忠淸北道), South
Choong-chung (忠淸南道), North Chul-la (全羅北道), and South Chul-la
(全羅南道). [*ibid, p. 8] [page 8] It will be shown in this paper that the
largest gold mines are in North Korea, and that its gold production has
been much greater than that of South Korea.
Historical References to Gold and Gold Mining. - Korea has
been known for many centuries to be rich in gold. It is not at all certain,
however, just how and when the occurence of gold in Korea was first
brought to the attention of any Western nation. Griffis states: “The first
notice of Corea in western books or writings occurs in the works of
Khordadbeh, an Arab geographer of the ninth century, in his Book of
Roads and Provinces. He is thus quoted by Richthofen in his work on
China (p. 575, note): ‘What lies on the other side of China is unknown
land. But high mountains rise up densely across from Kantu. These lie
over in the land of Sila, which is rich in gold……’”
“Richthofen rightly argues that Sila is Shinra and Kantu is the
promontory province of Shantung. This Arabic term “Sila” is a corruption
of Shinra ― the predominant state in Corea at the time of Khordadbeh.”
The above has been generally accepted as a fact, but, according
to Hulbert, it is difficult to believe, as “there is not the slightest intimation
in the (Korean) records of that time that Western traders ever visited the
coasts of Sil-la (新羅). [*Hulbert, The History of Korea, Vol. I, Seoul, 1905, p.
118.]
The earliest mention of gold in Korean history is noted,
according to Hulbert, in connection with the people of the kingdom of
Ma-han (馬韓), 193-9 B.C. It is stated that “another marked difference
between these people and those of the north was that the Ma-han people
held neither gold nor silver in high repute.” “The Ma-han people occupied
261
the south-western part of the peninsula, comprising the whole of the

present province of Ch’ung-ch’ung (忠淸道) and the northern part of
Chul-la (全羅).” [*ibid, p. 28.]
To the northward was the tribe of Nak-nang (樂浪), who later
joined the Kingdom of Ko-gu-ryu (高句麗). In connection with the court
of this ancient kingdom it is noted by Hulbert, that in about the year 26
B.C. “there were special court garments of silk embroidered with gold and
silver.” [*Hulbert, The History of Korea, Vol. I, Seoul, 1905, p. 40.] This
ancient kingdom probably comprised the present provinces of North
Pyeng-an (平安北道), South Pyung-an (平安南道), Whang-hai (黃海道),
and a portion of Kyong-ki (京畿道). [*ibid, p. 25.]
From the above it is evident that the Ma-han (馬韓) people were
ignorant of the value and use of both gold and silver, while it is certain
that the Ko-gu-ryu (高句麗) were familiar with both. In 10 B.C., during
the eighth year of the reign of On-ho (溫祚) in the small kingdom of
South Pu-yu (扶餘), it is recorded that the king rewarded one of his
victorious generals with “land, horses, and thirty pounds of gold.” [*ibid, p.
42.] Hulbert states “it is probable that this new kingdom (South Pu-yu)
sprang up in the district called Pak-che (百濟),” [*ibid, p. 42.] probably in
the present district of Chik-san (稷山) in South Choong-chung Province
(忠淸南道).
Records show that Ko-gu-ryu (高句麗), in the sixth century, was
paying a revenue of gold and jade, as a vassal state, to the Wei Emperor,
[*ibid, p. 78.] In 1036, the king of Ko-ryu (高麗) Wang-hyung (王享),
forbade the use of gold, [*ibid, p. 165] and this probably caused a decline
in the mining of gold at that time. During the years 1065-1077, in the
reign of Wang-whi (王徽) of Ko-ryu (高麗), a large Buddhist monastery
was built in Song-do (開城), and it is recorded that it contained a pagoda
“upon which 140 pounds of gold and 427 pounds of silver were
lavished.”[*ibid, p. 167] This would seem to indicate that gold mining,
both lode and alluvial, must have been increasing steadily to produce this
quantity of the precious metals. [page 10]
The first definite mention of gold mining I have been able to find
is that about 1079 “the people of Hong-wun (洪原) dug a hundred ounces
of gold and a hundred and fifty ounces of silver which they sent to the
king.” [*Hulbert, The History of Korea, Vol. I, Seoul, 1905, p. 169.] Apparently
gold mining continued, as the records show that about the year 1218,
during the reign of the king Wang-chul (王塡), several years before the
Mongol invasion, the envoy from the Mongol emperor, Genghis Khan
262
(成吉斯汗), was presented with gold in addition to other gifts, [*ibid, p.

189] In 1232 the king sent seventy pounds of gold, together with other
gifts, as a tribute to the Mongol general, Sal Ye-tap (撤禮塔). [*ibid, p.
194.] Again in 1340 the king Wang-jung (王禎) sent gold and silver to
China “to purchase many things of foreign manufacture.”[*ibid, p. 236.]
About 1380 it is recorded that General Yi Ta-jo (李太祖) was presented
with 50 ounces of gold upon his return to Song-do, after defeating
Japanese pirates in Chul-la Province (全羅道). [*ibid, p. 275.] About this
time the Ming emperor ordered the king, Sin-U (辛禑), to send him each
year one hundred pounds of gold together with other tribute. [*ibid, p. 275.]
It is recorded that the king succeeded in sending only three hundred
ounces of gold. [*ibid, p. 276.] However, in 1383, he was able to send one
hundred pounds of gold, with other tribute, to the Ming court. [* ibid, p.
276.]
Although no further mention of gold is made in Hulbert’s work
until the reign of the king, Yi-chong (仁祖). [*ibid, Vol. II, p. 93.]
1623-1650, it is quite evident that gold mining was carried on, even
though intermittently. There is no doubt that during the first and second
invasions of Hideyoshi (秀吉), 1592 and 1597, respectively, a
considerable quantity of gold must have been collected by the invading
armies and carried back to Japan on their return. During the reign of
Yi-chong (仁祖), about the year 1634, the Manchu envoy demanded
10,000 ounces of gold as [page 11] tribute. [*Hulbert, The History of Korea,
Vol. II, Seoul, 1905, p. 93.] In 1636 this was reduced to one hundred ounces
of gold yearly. [*ibid, p. 124.] As a matter of fact neither of these demands
was fulfilled. In 1660, it is recorded that the king Yi-hun (顯宗) “remitted
the tax on the gold mines at Tan-chun (端川), which had amounted to one
thousand ounces per year.” [*ibid, p. 146.]
Mining was again forbidden about the year 1724 by the king,
Yi-eum (英宗), who forbade silver and copper mining at An-byun (安邊),
[*ibid, p. 169.] but, curiously enough, no mention is made of gold mining.
An item of more than passing interest is that recorded regarding the part
taken by gold miners in an uprising in 1811.
In that year, during the reign of King Yi Kwang (純宗), Hong
Kyong Na (洪景來), a wealthy resident of Pyeng-an Province (平安道),
started an uprising by persuading 5,000 gold miners to accept his proposal
to set up a kingdom of his own. They caused the government considerable
trouble, and succeeded in taking the towns of Chong-ju (定州), Chul-san
(鐵山), Ka-san (嘉山), Soon-chun (順川), Yong-chun (龍川), Pak-chun
263
(博川), and Son-chun (宣川), in quick succession, An-ju (安州), was also
taken after a siege of ten days, but the arrival of government troops forced
the miners to fall back upon the city of Chong-ju (定州), where eventually
they were defeated by troops under General Yo Hyo-wun (堯喜元). [*ibid,
pp. 192-3.]
From the foregoing historical references it may be seen that some
strong foundation existed for the reputation Korea has had regarding its
mineral wealth. As has been shown a certain amount of gold was sent
annually to China as tribute, and, no doubt, a considerable amount was
bartered at the frontier markets. Further color was lent to Korea’s richness
in gold from the fable that Korean kings were buried in coffins of solid
gold. This fable doubtless inspired the predatory expedition of Oppert, a
German trader, from Shanghai in 1867. [page 12]
This expedition sailed up the Han River (漢江) to a place about
40 miles from the sea, and excavated what was thought to be a royal tomb
with the ostensible purpose of securing the gold coffin supposed to be
there. Their tools were insufficient for the work in hand, and they were
obliged to return to their boat, being attacked by the Koreans on their way
back. Thus the raid was abandoned, and the expedition returned to
Shanghai. [*Longford, The Story of Korea, London, 1911, p. 233.]
It has been clearly shown, I believe, that gold mines were worked,
particularly in North Korea, by the Koreans for many centuries before the
arrival of foreigners. Until the year 1895 it appears, from what I have been
able to learn, that the principal mining districts were under the patronage
of the Imperial Household, or of certain of the Ministers. The people were
forbidden by law to engage in mining unless they did so under the
direction of government officials. In many instances the necessary
authority was delegated to the provincial officials who were probably
more concerned with the amount of gold collected as taxes than in
encouraging the proper development of the mining industry in their
respective districts. Even though the regulations were not uniform for
regulating the mining work in the gold-districts, and though the taxes were
not fairly distributed, the records show that from 1884 to 1895 the gold
exportation amounted to a total of Yen 10,824,620. These figures do not
represent the true total, as, no doubt, a certain portion of the gold
produced would stay in the country each year and not be accounted for; it
is evident also that a part was carried away each year across the
Manchurian frontier, for which no accounting was made in the records.
Korean Mining Methods. ― Although the apparatus and tools
264
used by the Koreans in mining may appear very primitive to Western

engineers, it must be admitted that the Koreans have attained great skill in
using them. The tools used to-day in [page 13] placer mining differ but
slightly from those used during the past few hundred years.
I.- PLACER MINING.

Until recent years the chief source of gold was the auriferous
gravels which have been worked from time immemorial. Since the
introduction of modern mining methods and machinery by foreigners the
amount of gold won from lode mining has far surpassed that obtained
from placer mining,
Among the Koreans the following are ten of the most noted placer
districts:-
North Pyeng-an Province (平安北道) ………Un-san (雲山),
Yeng-byen (寧邊), Syen-chun (宣川)
South Pyeng-an Province(平安北道) ……… Soon-an (順安)
Whang-hai Province(黃海道) ………Su-an (遂安), Song-wha
(松禾)
South Han-kyung Province(咸鏡南道) ……… Ham-heung
(咸興), Tan-chun (端川)
South Choong-chung Province(忠淸南道) ……… Chik-san
(稷山), Mun-cui (文義)
There is no question in my mind that the gold production from
the placers in North and South Pyeng-an Province has amounted to as
much as Yen 800,000-1,000,000 per year at their most prosperous period.
For the year 1914 the gold production reported from placers in these two
provinces was Yen 300,813. [*Communication from Mr. S. Kawasaki.] As
these figures show only what was reported to the Government, it is a
certainty that the actual production was higher, because a certain amount
of gold was doubtless used or carried away by the miners without being
reported.
The Korean word for placer mining is To-chum (土店 토졈).
Placer gold or To-geum (土金 토금) means literally, “earth-gold.” Before
describing the methods usually employed [page 14] in placer mining I wish
to call your attention to the following list of tools generally employed;
these are shown in Fig. 1.
1. —Ho-mi (鋤 (호미)), used as a small pick or hoe in excavating
placer ground.
2. —Pyuk-chai (壁採 (벽치)), similar to the ho-mi, but much larger
265
and also used for excavating.

3. —Ka-re (銿 (가레)), or three-man shovel used for excavating.
4. —Yong-du-re (龍水瓢 (용두레)), or bailing box or bucket used for
bailing water in placer workings.
5. —Sam-tagi (草簣 (삼틱이)), used for carrying dirt that has been
excavated.
6. —O-reng-i (어롐이), used as a screen for collecting the pebbles and
coarse gravel from the sluice or ditch while the gravel is being washed
7. —So-ko-kri (소고리), a smaller basket, closely woven, used for
carrying the gold-bearing gravel to the panning-pool.
8. —Ham-ji (함지), the wooden bowl used for panning.
9. —Mot-chung (短釘 (못졍)), Ta-rai-chung (타리졍), an iron moil
without and with a handle, only used in cutting ditches or bedrock.
10. —Mang-chi (鐵椎 (망쳐)), a hammer of 3 to 5 pounds in weight
used in conjunction with the mot-chung.
There is another large basket used almost entirely in the country

south of Seoul which is used for the same purposes as the sam-tagi; it is
known as chil-tong (질퉁), but is of a different shape from the sam-tagi,
and is generally used with a ji-gei (지게). The sam-tagi is peculiar to
North Korea, while the chil-tong is characteristic of South Korea. The two
baskets are often confused by foreigners, who are not aware that sam-tagi
literally means a basket to be carried by the hands, while chil-tong means
a back-carrying basket.
The ten tools or implements mentioned above are shown clearly
in Fig. I, and, I believe, require no further explanation. [page 15]
Three methods of placer mining are in general use, and each of
these depends upon the local conditions pertaining to the ground to be
worked. (a). This method is used when the deposit is a shallow one in a
narrow valley. Work is started by digging a trench or ditch at a short
distance from and parallel to the stream. This ditch is arranged to be used
as a sluice for washing the gold-bearing gravel, and the water can be
easily deflected to one side when necessary to clean up the concentrated
gold-bearing gravel. The deposit being a shallow one, the pay-streak, or
portion rich in gold, is soon reached by excavating the worthless
overburden of dirt. This kam-chul (甘土 (잠줄)) as it is called by the
Koreans, means literally, “sweet earth.” Often-times it is sufficiently rich
in gold to be carried direct to the panning pool. When this is not the case it
is piled in a heap at the head of the sluice until a sufficient amount has
266
been collected. It is then thrown at more or less regular intervals into the
sluice where it is washed and concentrated by the flowing water. The
pebbles and coarse gravel are taken out by means of the o-reng-i which
acts in the dual capacity of a screen and a shovel. The gravel is gradually
worked down in this way until the gold-bearing gravel is concentrated.
The stream of water is then deflected, and the concentrated gravel
collected by means of the so-ko-ri and carried to the panning pool under
the watchful eye of the ever-present toktai (德大 (덕대)), or “mining
boss.” The ham-ji is used in panning to extract the gold, and the gold
recovered is turned over to the tok-tai for his disposal. This (a) method is
shown in Figs. 2, 3, and 4. Fig. 4 also shows the placer tools.
(b). This method applies to a broad valley with a deposit varying
in depth from 8 to 20 feet, where the stream is some distance from the
ground to be worked. Work is generally started by digging pits, varying in
size according to the number of men employed, until the pay-streak, or
kam-chul, is exposed. This is then collected in heaps and conveyed to the
stream, and panned there if sufficiently rich. If not, the method as outlined
in (a) is employed. This method is generally an [page 16] expensive and
wasteful one, because a great deal of gravel is left behind because of the
necessity of using if for dumping ground while the pits are being
excavated. Another bad feature is that, as a rule, no provision is made for
a system of drains or ditches which will permit of continuous working.
Thus a great deal of ground has to be handled two or more times before
the pay-streak, or kam-chul, can be entirely recovered. The yong-du-re, or
bailing bucket, has to be used a great deal when this method of working is
employed, because of the lack of drains. Figs. 5 and 6 illustrate the ground
worked by this method, and also show the yong-du-re in operation. (c).
This method is one where small shafts are sunk to reach the kam-chul, or
pay-streak. This is not a common method, however, and is restricted in
use to a very few places. Some years ago I visited a portion of the
Chik-san District where this method was in operation. After the pay-streak
is dug out, it is collected and treated in the same way as outlined in (a).
Unless the winter is mild, no work is done in North Korea
between December and March. Heavy rains during July or August also
interfere with the placer mining operations. A great deal of placer mining
has been done in the past by the farmers during their leisure time, and it is
true that a considerable amount of gold has been produced in this way that
has never been accounted for in the gold production of the country.
It is of interest to note here that a different method of working
267
placer deposits was at one time in operation in the Chik-san District

(稷山郡), when the work was being conducted under Japanese overseers.
The place of operation was at Sei-go-ri (三谷里), about 4 miles south-east
of the Sei-kwan Station (成歡停車場) on the Seoul-Fusan Railway. The
overburden of clay and gravel averaged 20 feet in depth, and the kam-chul,
or pay-streak, was from one to three feet in thickness. Work was started by
digging a pit about 60 feet square down to the pay-streak. This work was
generally let by contract, and it took from 10 to 12 days to complete this
[page 17] excavation. This meant the removal of some 2,400 cubic yards of
overburden. Owing to the difficulty of controlling the inflow of water
through the gravel it was not possible to use ground sluices, and a flume
and a sluice were therefore constructed at ground level, and supported by
poles, as shown in Fig. 7. Wooden blocks were used for riffles in the
sluice. The depth of overburden is shown in Fig. 8, and the absence of
large boulders is to be noted. In Fig. 9 is shown the method of removing
the pay-streak (kam-chul), and how it was elevated to the feed-box at the
head of the sluice. This feed-box is also shown in Fig. 7, and so are the
inclined ladder-ways for the men who carried the gravel. In order to
handle the water for short lifts, the Japanese utilized the principle of the
Archimedean screw, as shown in Fig. 10. So far as I know this method of
handing water has not been employed elsewhere in Korea. The sluice was
cleaned up at regular intervals, and the gold extracted from the auriferous
sands by washing and panning. The gold collected was sent to Dai Ichi
Ginko, Ltd., (First National Bank), Seoul.
Former Methods of Administration. ― Formerly all gold
mining, both lode and alluvial, was under the control of the Imperial
Household (宮內部). So far as I can learn the Government sent either a
representative from Seoul, or else was represented by the Governor of the
Province or the Magistrate of the District in which the placer mine or lode
mine was worked. These men, in turn, appointed the subordinate officials.
The various titles, or names, given to these officials, are as follow:-
1. —Kam-ni …… (監理 (감리)), or Superintendent,
2. —Wi-won …… (委員 (위원)), or Chief Overseer. [*The literal meaning
of Wi-won is “trusty man.”]
3. —Pah-won …… (派員 (파원)), or Chief Overseer. [*The literal
meaning of Pah-won is “distributing man.”]
4. —Pyul-chand 別將 (별쟝)), of Special Overseer. [*The literal
meaning of Pyul-chang is “special general.”]
5. —Sei-gam …… (稅監 (세감)), or Tax Collector. [page 18]
268
6. —Chu-sa …… (主事 (쥬사)). or Clerk or Book-keeper.

7. —Soo-bi-byung (守備兵 (수비병)), or Guards or Watchmen. [*The
literal meaning of Soo-bi-byung is “ready-watching soldiers.”]
8. —Sah-ryung …… (使令 (사령)), or Servants.
The Kam-ni (監理) was appointed by the Imperial Household, but I have
been unable to learn the date when this office was created. He was directly
responsible to the Imperial. Household (宮內部). The Wi-won (委員) was
appointed by the Kam-mi, and so was the Pah-won (派員). The Sei-gam
(稅監) was appointed by the Pah-won, and the Chu-sa (主事) received his
appointment from the Kam-mi. The Soo-bi-byung (守備兵) were sent
either from Seoul or by the Governor of the Province in which the placer
or lode mines were operated. The Sah-ryung (使令) were servants under
the direction of the Pyul-chang, and apparently were a part of his staff. In
the old days, so I am told, there was no Kam-ni (監理) to superintend the
mining operations, but the work was under the supervision of the
Pyul-chang (別將), who was appointed by either the Governor, or the
Magistrate, of the mining district. From what I have learned it would seem
that the Kam-ni is an office created within the last twenty-five years.
In these old days the general method of procedure in beginning
mining work was for the tok-tai (德大), or mining “boss,” to apply to the
Pyul-chang for permission to work a certain portion of ground. After
receiving this application, the Pyul-chang would then send one or more
Sei-gam to investigate the ground applied for, not with an object of
determining its value, but to decide the number of workers and the amount
of taxes which should be collected. In many cases the tok-tai was obliged
either to purchase the land, or else to come to some agreement with the
owner regarding the use of it for mining work.
The tok-tai employed a number of miners to dig the ground and
to extract the gold. The laborers were known as Yok-bu (役夫(역부)), and
also as Keum-chum-gun (鑛夫 (금졈군)). The placer miners were called
To-chum-gun (土店軍 (토졈군)) [page 19] to distinguish them from the
lode miners who were called Sok-chum-gun (石店軍 (석졈군)).
The miners usually worked groups of five or ten under the
direction of a tok-tai. Sometimes he paid them a daily wage for their
labors, but more often the custom was for the tok-tai to furnish food,
tobacco, and straw shoes for his men, and to pay the taxes according to the
number of men employed by him. The rate of taxes would vary with the
richness of the ground worked. The taxes were collected twice each month,
and were generally at the rate of 5 pun (五分 (오푼)) for each party of
269
five miners. If the production was very favorable this same rate would be
applied to each party of two miners; if unfavorable, the rate would be
changed to apply to each party of 10 miners, If the tok-tai, in addition to
providing board, tobacco, and straw shoes, paid the semi-monthly tax, he
was entitled to receive three-quarters of the production, The remaining
one-quarter was divided among the miners. On the other hand, if the
tok-tai furnished nothing, he generally got from one-third to one-half the
production, and the miners paid their own taxes. There were no fixed
standards for the different mining districts, therefore the rates as
mentioned above would vary according to the district.
Certain regulations were made regarding workings in proximity
to rice-fields, certain buildings, and tombs, but these regulations were
more often broken than observed. The Imperial Household made no
attempt apparently to regulate the mining industry in such a way as to
protect the miners, and to secure the best results, but endeavoured only to
collect as much in taxes as the miners could be made to pay. Without
systematic regulation of the mining areas it was a common matter for one
tok-tai to apply for and frequently to secure permission to work profitable
ground already held by another tok-tai. Unscrupulous officials were apt to
levy unjust taxes, make false reports, of taxes collected and of weights of
gold taken out, and they were also known to make false returns to the
Imperial Household [page 20]
2. —LODE MINING.
Lode mining, or Sok-chum (石店(셕졈)), has been characterized
by primitive methods. Gold from lodes is known as Sok-keum (石金
(셕금)), and means “rock-gold.” The following tools and apparatus are
those in general use:
1. —Mot-chung (短釘 (못졍)), an iron moil, used for chipping and
breaking stone.
2. —Ta-rai-chung (타리졍), same as above, but with handle for holding,
while striking with hammer.
3. —Mang-chi (鐵椎 (망치)), a hammer of from 3 to 5 pounds in
weight used in conjunction with the mot-chung and ta-rai-chung.
4. —Kool-tol (轉石 (굴돌)), or “rocking-stone” for crushing ore as it
comes from the mine.
5. — Kal-tol (磨石 (갈동)), or “grinding-stone” for grinding the ore
after being crushed by the “rocking-stone.”
6. —Ham-ji (함지), used for panning the finely crushed ore from the
270
“grinding-stone.”
7. —Sui-ryun-gei (水輪機械 (스륜긔계)), or water-wheel mill for
crushing and amalgamating gold-ore.
The ta-rai-chung (釘 (타리졍)) is simply the mot-chung with the
addition of a handle, and together with the mang-chi (鐵椎 (망치)) are
shown in Fig. 11, as well as in shown Fig. 1. The Kool-tol (轉石 (굴돌)),
or “rocking-stone” is shown in Figs. 12, 13, and 14. The kal-tol (磨石
(갈돌)), or “grinding-stone” is illustrated in Figs. 14 and 15. The ham-ji
(함지), is shown to good advantage in Fig. 16. Two examples of
sui-ryun-ki-gei (水輪機械 (수륜긔계)), one of ten stamps, and the other
of forty stamps, are shown in Figs. 17 and 18, respectively.
In lode mining the general method of working was to sink a
series of small shafts or pits on the outcrop of the lode or vein. A good
example of this kind of work is shown in Fig. 19. The ore was obtained by
breaking the lode-rock with mot-chung or ta-rai-chung and hammer.
When the ore became too hard for [page 21] this method, a fire was built
against the portion desired and the rock was thoroughly heated in this way,
and then water was thrown upon the heated rock. This caused the rock to
become friable, and a certain portion of it was then easily broken out. By
using this laborious method it became possible to extract ore which could
not be taken out in any other way. The next step was to crush the ore. This
is accomplished in two ways, firstly, by kool-tol (轉石 (굴돌)) and kal-tol
(磨石 (갈돌)), (“rocking and grinding-stones”), and secondly, by means
of the water-wheel mill known as the sui-ryun-ki-gei (水輪機械
(슈륜긔계)). These two methods are shown in Figs. 12, 13, 14, 15, 17 and
18, respectively. Abandoned kool-tol and kal-tol (from the Unsan District)
are shown in Figs. 20 and 21.
The ore as it comes from the mine is carried to the kool-tol (轉石
(굴돌)) where it is crushed to the size of chestnuts. The kool-tol is
generally worked by four men, one pair on each side, who rock back and
forth in unison. These stones are of good size, and weigh from 250 to 400
lbs. The crushing is continued until the ore is crushed to about 10 or 20
mesh. A rough screen, made of tin punched irregularly with small holes, is
used during the crushing, and the oversize is returned to the stone again
for further crushing. When the ore is finally reduced to the desired size or
fineness, it is sacked and carried to the kal-tol (磨石 (갈돌)) which is
generally located close to the panning pool. The ore is finally ground to
the fineness desired for panning, generally 60 to 80 mesh. This
finely-ground ore is then panned, as shown in Fig. 16. The Korean is an
271
expert at panning with his wooden pan or bowl (han-ji). It is generally of

one piece of wood, from 18 to 24 inches in diameter, with a depth of about
4 inches, and the sides flare slightly. Although this method is necessarily
slow and laborious, a large amount of gold has been won in this way.
The second method of crushing ore is by the use of the
sui-ryun-gei (水輪機械 (수륜긔계)), water-wheel mill, comprising
generally ten wooden stamps driven by an overshot [page 22] water-wheel.
The water-wheels are made of wood, and are about 12 feet in diameter.
Overshot wheels are the rule, the necessary water being conveyed by
ditches to the wheel. There is a tradition among the Korean miners in the
Un-san District (雲山郡) that the water-wheel mill was introduced from
China, but I have been unable to verify this. It is well known that
stamp-mills of the same general type are used near Kagoshima in Japan.
Whether the wooden stamp mill was introduced from Japan to Korea, I
am unable to state definitely, but I consider this is a point worthy of
further investigation.
These water-wheel mills are usually built in two batteries of five
stamps each, one battery on each side of the water wheels. But there are
some built with two batteries of ten stamps each, or ten stamps on each
side of the wheel, as shown in Fig. 18. This type can be used only where
there is sufficient water to run them, as they require more power than the
ordinary type.
To secure the best results the size of the ore fed to the mortars
should not be larger than a chestnut. The ore is fed at regular intervals,
and is crushed in the mortar by the action of the dropping of the iron-shod
wooden stamps. Mercury is fed from time to time in small quantities to
the mortar, where the gold freed from the ore is amalgamated. The greater
the gold-content of the ore, the more often mercury is fed. It is not
customary to treat the tailing, the over-flow from the mortar, and it is
permitted to run to waste. As may be easily imagined the crushing
capacity of these mills in extremely limited. The capacity ranges from
1000 to 2000 pounds in 24 hours, depending greatly upon the hardness of
the ore. The amalgam formed by the union of the gold and mercury is
collected from the mortars at regular intervals, and the gold is recovered
by retorting. Wherever sufficient water is available these water-wheel
mills are used in preference to the kool-tol and kal-tol.
During the year 1910 there was a tremendous boom in lode
mining in the Sak-ju District (朔州郡), and it is estimated that fully one
hundred 10-stamp water wheel mills were at work. [page 23]
272
The procedure in beginning work in any lode gold-district was

along the same lines as described under placer mining. The rate of taxes
was different in that each miner was taxed, instead of each group as in
placer mining. As has been stated there were no uniform regulations
enforced for the control of the gold-mining districts; consequently, what
was made to apply to one district did not necessarily apply to another.
However, in July 1895, new and important regulations
concerning mining were issued by the Government, and, in the same year,
a mining concession in the district of Un-san (雲山) was granted to an
American. [*Hulbert, The History of Korea, Vol. II., Seoul, 1905, p. 284 .] This
year marked the beginning of an important era in the development of gold
mining in Korea.
Foreign Concessions and their Development ― Until the year
1883, Korea had been closed to foreigners, although a treaty between
Korea and Japan had been ratified on February 27th, 1876. The first
foreign treaty was with the United States, and was ratified on May 19th,
1883. During the same year treaties were concluded with Germany and
Great Britain. [*ibid, p. 233.] In 1885, permission was granted to the
English firm of Jardine, Matheson & Co. to operate gold placers, but the
results were unsatisfactory. [*The Mining Journal, London, October 23, 1909,
p. 121.] In 1889 ten modern stamps were brought out from California
under the direction of the Government [*ibid, p. 122.]; these were taken as
far as Puk-chin (北鎭) in the Un-san District (雲山郡), but were not
erected for some cause. It is of interest to note, however, that these ten
stamps afterwards were incorporated in the mill at Chittabalbie
(泥踏(지리발비)), the pioneer of modern mills in Korea. This mill is
shown in Fig. 22.
From 1895 to 1906 foreigners were able to engage in mining
operations only through concessions granted by the Emperor or the
Imperial Household, and in some instances, by certain Minsters of State.
Consequently these conditions were [page 24] the cause of frequent
disputes and led to bribery in some cases. More or less rivalry existed
among the different nationalities in securing these concessions of mining
rights.
As already stated, the first concession granted under the
regulations issued in 1895 was to an American, Mr. James R. Morse, who
received from the Imperial Household on April 17th, 1896, the approval
of the concession rights for the Un-san District granted in the previous
year. This concession was later modified on March 27th, 1899, when the
273
agreed payment of 25 per cent. of the net profits to the Government was
compounded for a lump sum paid in cash, and for an annual payment
thereafter of Yen 25,000 per year. Within the next few years concessions
were granted to British, German, French, Russian, Japanese and Italian
representatives.
Thus far, the American companies have been the most successful
in their undertakings. At this time the three most profitable concessions
are being operated by Americans; these are the Un-san (雲山), Su-an
(遂安), and Chik-san (稷山) concessions, and for the year 1915 they have
produced gold to the value of Yen 5,657,244 or approximately 75 per cent.
of the estimated production for that year. Although these three concessions
are being operated successfully by Americans it should be noted that only
one, Un-san (雲山), is an American Concession.
The Su-an (遂安) concession was granted on November 4th,
1905, to a British syndicate (The Korean Syndicate, Ltd.) by the Korean
government, and comprises the Su-an District (遂安郡) in Whang-hai
Province (黃海道). The British syndicate, after doing a certain amount of
development work, leased their mining rights to an American company on
November 12th, 1907, receiving therefore a certain percentage of the
yearly profits.
The Chik-san (稷山) concession was granted on August 16th,
1900, by the Imperial Household to a Japanese syndicate, the
Shibusawa-Asano Mining Partnership, for mining rights in the Chik-san
District (稷山郡), South Choong-chung [page 25] Province (忠淸南道).
The operations by this syndicate were not wholly successful, and their
rights were taken over by an American company in 1911. This concession
is being worked successfully.
The first German concession was granted in 1897, and was
located at Tang-kogei (堂峴), in Kang-won Province (江原道), about 100
miles north-east of Seoul (京城). Mining operations were not successful
and the concession was abandoned. In 1908, under the new Mining
Regulations, promulgated in 1906, a mining area was selected in
Syen-chun District (宣川郡), North Pyeng-an Province (平安北道). A
small quantity of profitable ore was developed, sufficient for a five-stamp
mill, which was operated in 1910 and 1911. It was then closed down, as
there was no more ore. Later on this mill was sold to the French
concession, and placed in operation there.
The French concession was granted on June 7th, 1901, by the
Korean government to a French citizen, M. Saltarel, to work a mining area
274
to be located in the Chang-sung District (昌城郡), North Pyeng-an

Province (平安北道). A final selection of the mining area was made in
1908, and milling operations began in 1912. It is reported that the results
thus far have been satisfactory and the production for the years 1912-1914.
inclusive, had been approximately Yen 1,500,000.
The Italian concession was granted by the Korean government on
March 15th, 1905, to work a mining area to be selected in the Hu-chang
District (厚昌郡), North Pyeng-an Province. The Italian syndicate in
charge of operations made its selection of the mining area in 1909. Thus
far the undertaking has not been wholly successful.
The first British concession granted was in 1899, and comprised
mining rights in the Eun-san District (殷山郡), about 50 miles north-east
of the city of Pyeng-yang, in South Pyeng-an Province. Milling operations
were carried on during the years 1903-4 with very good results, but the
ore suddenly failed, and mining operations were abandoned in 1905.
The above list of concessions constitutes the principal ones [page
26] granted either by the Korean government, or the Imperial Household,
prior to the new mining regulations promulgated in 1906.
A short account will be given of the development of the Un-san,
Su-an, and Chik-san concessions to the end of the year 1915.
Un-san Concession. — This concession is being worked by the
Oriental Consolidated Mining Company, an American company, which
has been highly successful in its operations in this district from the
beginning. Operations were first started at Chittabalbie (泥踏(지리발비)),
and a twenty-stamp mill was placed in operation in 1897. This mill was
the pioneer of the modern stamp-mills in Korea. (See Fig. 22.) Before the
mine was abandoned in 1905, it had produced 152,632 tons of ore valued
at Yen 3,036,952.
In 1899 a forty-stamp mill was erected at Tabowie (大巖) and in
1907 was enlarged to eighty stamps. To June 30th, 1915, this mine has
produced 1,226,859 tons of ore valued at Yen 15,918,755.
A twenty-stamp mill was erected at Kuk-san-dong (京城洞) in
1900. It was increased to forty stamps in 1905. This mine was closed
down on January 15th, 1915, after having produced 551,892 tons of ore
valued at Yen 4,788,182.
In 1902 a forty-stamp mill was placed in operation at Maibong
(廌峰). To June 30th, 1915, 412,071 tons of ore valued at Yen 5,967,274.
have been produced.
In 1903 an eighty-stamp mill was erected at Taracol (橋洞). To June 30th,
275
1915, this mine has produced 1,173,208 tons of ore valued at Yen
13,749,526.
This mill is shown in Fig. 23, and Figs. 24 and 25 show the
battery and vanner floors, respectively. There are 16 batteries of five
stamps each, and 32 vanners of the Frue type. The daily capacity of this
mill is about 350 tons in 24 hours.
In 1908 a ten-stamp mill was placed in operation at Candlestick
(獨臺峰). From this mine 43,998 tons of ore valued at Yen 999,591 have
been produced up to June 30th, 1915. [page 27]
As may be seen from the foregoing the growth and development
of this concession has been exceedingly satisfactory. On July 1st, 1915, a
total of 210 stamps were in operation at the following mines:-
Tabowie. 80 stamps
Taracol. 80 〃
Maibong. 40 〃
E. Candlestick. 10 〃
The tonnage of ore crushed for the year ended December 31st,
1915, was 295,379 tons valued at Yen 3,758,135. From this ore, gold in
bullion and concentrates was recovered to the value of Yen 3,228,941.
The total tonnage of ore produced from the various mines since
1897 to December 31st, 1915, has been 3,986,772 tons valued at Yen
49,568,632.
The first dividend of 5 per cent, was paid in 1903. Since that time
to July 1st, 1915, the total dividends have amounted to 150 per cent, or a
total of Yen 12,871,550.
Su-an Concession. ― This British concession is held by the
Korean Syndicate, Limited, of London, but is being operated by The
Seoul Mining Company. This concession is being developed with highly
successful results. Although not as old as the Un-san concession, its
tonnage and output are increasing yearly. It shows promise of eventually
becoming the largest producer in Korea,
The first stamp-mill of twenty stamps was placed in operation in
the latter part of 1909 at the Suan Mine. This mine developed
satisfactorily, and the mill was increased to forty stamps in the autumn of
1911.
During the past three years a larger mine than the Su-an Mine has
been developed at Tul-mi-chung (楠亭), about six miles south of Hol-kol
(笏洞). A reduction plant, the pioneer of its kind in Korea, was placed in
operation late in September, 1915. This plant has a rated capacity of 350
276
tons in 24 hours, and is the first one in Korea to use Hardinge Conical
Ball-and Pebble-Mills, in place of gravity stamps for crushing and [page 28]
grinding the ore. Both plants also employ the oil-flotation process for the
recovery of concentrate. It is expected that the production of gold from the
Su-an concession for 1916 will approximate a total of Yen 2,500,000.
The Su-an Mill is shown in Fig. 26, and a portion of the
battery-floor is shown in Fig. 27. The Tul-mi-chung Reduction Plant is
shown in Fig. 28, and the Ball-and Pebble-Mills are shown in Fig. 29.
For the year ended December 31st, 1915, the Su-an concession
produced 108,078 tons of ore valued at Yen 1,789,224. The gold
production for the same period amounted to Yen 1,435,041.
Since the date of the commencement of milling operations in
1909, to January 1st, 1916, the Su-an concession has produced 433,361
tons of ore valued at Yen 7,945,328, with a total gold production of Yen
6,566,244. The dividends for the same period have amounted to a total of
Yen 2,180,087.50, or a total of 275 per cent.
Chik-san Concession. ― This concession was operated
intermittently by the concessionaires, Shibusawa-Asano Mining
Partnership, on a small scale until 1906. In this year American partners
were admitted, and in 1907 a small stamp-mill was placed in operation. In
1911 a reorganization took place whereby the control of the concession
rights was taken over by an American company, the Chiksan Mining
Company.
During the Japanese regime considerable work was done on the
placer deposits, and a small profit was made. Although no exact figures
are available it is probable that the alluvial gold production during this
time amounted to over Yen 300,000.
For the year ended December 31st, 1915, the production of gold
from this concession has produced Yen 3,199,073 in gold; and has treated
192,144 tons of ore during the period from February, 1908, to January 1st,
1916. This concession has now reached the dividend-paying stage, and is
being operated successfully. [page 29]
Earlier in this paper was mentioned the placer ground at Sei-go-ri
which was worked under the supervision of the Japanese concessionaires.
The present company has proved the existence of a large acreage of
ground containing sufficient gold to warrant the installation of a
gold-dredge. The order has been placed for this dredge, and it is expected
that it will be in operation before the end of 1916. Chiksan will therefore
have the distinction of starting the first gold-dredge in Korea.
277
The operation of this gold-dredge, in conjunction with the

present mill of forty-five stamps, should result in showing a considerable
increase in the gold-production for 1916, and for several succeeding years.
From the above brief description of the Unsan, Suan, and
Chiksan Concessions, it may be readily seen how important a part they
have had in the development of the gold-mining industry in Korea.
Japanese Mining Enterprises. ― Encouragement has been
given by the Government-General to large companies or corporations in
Japan, such as Messrs. Furukawa, Asano, and Kuhara, to undertake
gold-mining operations in Korea. This has resulted in the Furukawa
Partnership Company being granted a number of gold mining areas in
April, 1912, to the extent of some 14,842 acres, or 12,260,000 tsubo in the
Koo-sung District (龜城) in North Pyeng-an Province. This location is
shown on the General Map of Korea appended to this paper. Mr. S. Asano
is engaged in working placer deposits in the Soon-an (順安) and
Yeng-byen (寧邊) Districts; these are shown on the map just referred to.
Another venture worthy of commendation is the smeltery built at
Chinnampo by the Kuhara Mining Company, of Osaka, which began
operations in October, 1915. This undertaking should prove to be a very
successful one, and it will assist the immediate development of the mining
industry in many ways. In addition to receiving gold- and copper-ores
from many small mines or prospects, it is also treating the gold-copper
concentrate [page 30] from the Tul-mi-chung Reduction Plant of the Su-an
Mines, which amounts to several hundred tons per month.
Gold Mines Retained by the Government-General. ―
Consequent upon the mineral deposit surveys made during the past few
years in eleven of the thirteen provinces, the Government-General has
retained for experimental exploitation purposes the gold mines in Sang-ju
(尙州) District, North Kyung-sang Province (慶尙北道), in Wi-ju (義州)
District North Pyeng-an Province (平安北道), and in Ham-heung (咸興)
District, South Ham-kyung Province (咸鏡北道) [*Annual Report on
Reforms and Progress in Chosen (Korea), (1913-14), Seoul, July, 1915, p. 113.].
This is a new undertaking for the Government to engage in gold mining,
and the results will be noted with interest.
General Remarks. ― The Koreans have proved themselves to
be quite expert at the various methods of mining described in this paper.
They have been quick also to learn the Western methods of mining,
particularly as practised in American mines, What might be termed the
first training school for miners, under foreign supervision, was really at
278
the Chittabalbie Mine, Unsan concessions. As new mines were developed

more Koreans found employment and gradually a small army of efficient
native miners became trained.
The Korean miner, as a rule, is good-natured, and easy to manage.
It has been clearly demonstrated that he can be taught to become capable
and efficient, as is shown by the variety of work he has learned to do
under foreign supervision. To my mind, he is the best miner in the world
for the wage he receives, usually 50 sen per day, unless on contract work
when it may rise as high as Yen 1.00 per day. Not only do many of them
become expert hand-drillers, but they also learn very readily to operate
power-drills. Many of them do work that compares favorably with that of
foreign miners. The chief fault is the carelessness shown by the average
miner under-ground. This carelessness is the direct cause of practically all
mine accidents. [page 31]
In addition to the Koreans, a number of Chinese are employed at
the mines operated by the foreign companies. They are used as miners,
and also make good watchmen and mechanics.
A considerable number of Japanese are also employed as
carpenters, mechanics, clerks, etc.
Some idea may be gained of the importance of gold-mining in
Korea when it is realised that not less than 50,000 Koreans, several
thousand Chinese and Japanese, are at this time directly dependent for
their livelihood upon the foreign mining companies operating in Korea.
The Japanese authorities have realised the important part played
by the foreign mine concessionaires in developing the mineral resources
of the country, and are apparently willing to assist foreign mining
companies in every way possible.
As the mining industry expands so will Korea become richer in proportion,
because the money earned by the miners will add considerably to the
wealth of the country. In addition to the money paid out for wages, local
supplies, etc., the purchases of machinery and other mining supplies from
abroad will add appreciably to the imports of the country.
Mining Regulations. ― In June and July, respectively, of 1906,
the Korean Government, acting upon the advice of the Resident-General,
Prince Ito, enacted laws concerning lode and placer mining. These laws
were promulgated in September of the same year. These laws were
undoubtedly a step in the right direction, as, prior to this time, mining was
not under the sort of supervision or control that ensured the steady and
proper development of the mineral resources of the country.
279
The principal features of these mining laws are, as

follow[*Annual Report on Reforms and Progress in Chosen (Korea), (1908-9),
Seoul, December, 1909, p. 144.]:
“1.-Mines belonging to the State are brought under the control of
the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce, and Industry, [page 32] to whom
applications for concessions should be made by a Korean or a foreigner
in accordance with the Mining Laws of Korea.
2.-Mines already in operation, abandoned mines and
mine-ditches of which the ownership cannot be definitely ascertained,
become State property.
3.-To avert the evils of monopoly, mining districts are to be of
fixed extent, and to protect public interests mining is prohibited in
prescribed localities; but, on the other hand, in case of necessity mining
enterprises in private lands may be compulsorily expropriated.
4.-Full protection is to be extended to mining concessions
hitherto held insecurely, and their cancellation is to be disallowed
except in cases where the law provides otherwise. The concession rights
may be made the object of transfer by sale, gift, or succession, and of
mortgage.
5.-Taxes are to be levied on mining products and mining districts,
imports hitherto diverse being made uniform, and fees are to be charged
on application for concessions.
6.-In case a concession is competed for, the grant is to be made
according to priority of application, in order to put a stop to the evils
hitherto connected with arbitrarily granting concessions as the outcome
of questionable scheming and agitation.
7.-The boundaries of mines belonging to the Imperial Household
are to be re-defined and publicly announced.
8.-Any matter relating to foreigners in executing these laws and
regulations, should be referred to the Resident General for his consent."
The taxes were fixed at the rate of one per cent. (1%) of the
annual gross production, and an annual tax of 50 sen per 1,000 tsubo of
land (5/6 acre) in the mining area.
The gold mining areas were limited to 1,000,000 tsubo
(approximately 826 acres), except where it could be shown clearly that
more than this area was necessary. [page 33]
It was found that some of the laws were not satisfactory, and the
following amendments were made [*Annual Report on Reforms and Progress
in Chosen (Korea), (1908-9), Seoul, December, 1909, p. 144-5.] :-
280
"The Mining Laws were first amended by Law No. 3, issued on

August 6, 1907. By it the mines belonging to the Imperial Household
were transferred to the State and are to be treated in the same way as
mines belonging to the State. In order to simplify the procedure of
applications as far as possible, the law was again amended on March
16th, 1908, so that matters concerning foreigners, which require the
consent of the Residency, have been reduced to a few important cases.
Further the Resident General, with a view to encourage
investment of foreign capital in the exploitation of mines in Korea,
caused the competent Korean Authorities to modify the laws and
regulations, in so far as these provisions were felt to be inconvenient to
foreign investors, and to devise expedients for affording facilities to the
latter. The Korean Government consequently further revised, on July
7th, 1908, the Mining Law to the effect that the transfer of mining rights
and their hypothecation need not receive Government sanction, and that
the articles in the laws and regulations providing that mining permits
can be cancelled or mining operations suspended by the Government
should be limited or struck out as far as possible. Thus the stability of
mining rights in Korea has been secured. As already stated under the
heading of ‘Customs Duties,’ Law No. 21, which was issued on August
19th soon after the revision of the Mining Law, exempts from duty
machinery, instruments, and other necessary articles imported for
mining purposes, and remits the export duty on copper and concentrate
of gold, silver and copper (gold and silver bullion or coin being already
free of duty).
The Forestry Law of Korea further affords all possible
convenience and facilities for mining operations. In accordance with the
Regulations for the Disposal of State Forests and [page 34] their Products,
State forests may be rented or sold to mine operators by a free contract,
or the products of such forests may be sold to them."
These mining laws, as promulgated in 1906, have been recently
revised, and are to be promulgated within a short time. The principal and
most important change is that henceforth all mining rights will be denied
to foreigners, as set forth in Art. VI. of the Chosen Mining Ordinance
which states that “None can enjoy mining rights other than subjects of the
Empire or juridical persons organized in accordance with the laws and
ordinances of the Empire.” The only way in which foreigners will be able
to acquire such rights in the future will be to organize themselves as
partners of a legal person organized in accordance with the Japanese law.
281
The amount of royalty to be levied remains as before, namely, — one per

cent. (1%) of the gross output yearly, but the ground tax has been
increased from 50 to 60 sen per 1000 tsubo of mining area.
Foreigners who already possess mining rights will not be
affected by this revision, as they will be permitted to use and retain their
rights for any length of time in the future.
The laws, as a whole, have been extremely liberal, and compare
very favorably with the mining laws of other mining countries. As already
noted (p. 33), important revisions of the Mining Laws were made in 1908
with a view of further encouraging foreign capital to invest in mining
enterprises in Korea. It is therefore evident that the authorities have
realized the extent of the important work done by foreigners in developing
the mining industry in this country. Although the new Mining Ordinance,
about to be promulgated, may contain some unsatisfactory conditions, it is
not at all improbable that further revisions may be made eventually to the
satisfaction of all concerned.
The Government-General, in 1911, commenced a survey of the
mineral deposits in Korea with the object of [page 35] furnishing reliable
information to those interested in mining. In three years ending December,
1913, the survey of the five following provinces was completed:- North
and South Ham-kyung, North and South Pyeng-an, and Whang-hai. In
addition to these just mentioned, portions of the following six provinces
were surveyed:- Kyong-ki, North and South Kyung-sang, North and South
Choong-chung, and Kang-won. [*Annual Report on Reforms and Progress in
Chosen (Korea), (1913-14), Seoul, July 1915, p. 113.] This work has been
under the direction of the Mining Section of the Department of
Agriculture, Commerce, and Industry, and the reports issued thus far give
evidence of careful and earnest work. They are printed in both Japanese
and English. The Mining Section is fortunate in having competent and
courteous officials who are doing good work in gathering information and
collecting data regarding the mineral resources of the country.
Tables of Gold Production and Export. ― The first table
shows the Bullion and Gold Ore exported from Korea, 1884-1915,
inclusive. The second table shows the Gold Production of Korea for the
years 1908-1914, inclusive, and is made up from the returns made to the
Government-General by the various operators engaged in gold mining.
The third table shows in detail the gold produced by each province for the
year 1914, and is interesting in that it shows returns from all of the
thirteen provinces.
282
[page 36]
BULLION AND GOLD ORE EXPORTED FROM KOREA.
1884-1915, incl.
Year Bullion. Gold Ore. Total.
1884 …… ￥ 312,022 ￥ ― ￥ 312,022
1885 …… 141,594 ― 141,594
1886 …… 1,130,488 ― 1,130,488
1887 …… 1,388,269 ― 1,338,269
1888 …… 1,373,965 ― 1,373,965
1889 …… 982,091 ― 982,091
1890 …… 749,699 ― 749,699
1891 …… 689,078 ― 689,078
1892 …… 851,751 ― 851,751
1893 …… 918,659 ― 918,659
1894 …… 934,075 ― 934,075
1895 …… 1,352,929 ― 1,352,929
1896 …… 1,390,412 ― 1,390,412
1897 …… 2,034,079 ― 2,034,079
1898 …… 2,375,725 ― 2,375,725
1899 …… 2,933,382 ― 2,933,382
1900 …… 3,633,050 ― 3,633,050
1901 …… 4,993,351 70,584 5,063,935
1902 …… 5,064,106 52,988 5,117,094
1903 …… 5,456,307 139,671 5,596,068
1904 …… 5,009,596 98,340 5,107,936
1905 …… 5,206,805 449,303 5,656,108
1906 …… 4,666,103 136,587 4,802,717
1907 …… 4,617,950 21,006 4,638,956
1908 …… 4,770,491 44,674 4,815,165
1909 …… 6,112,419 73,123 6,185,542
1910 …… 8,833,609 517,431 9,351,040
1911 …… 9,099,796 234,891 9,334,687
1912 …… 9,416,235 274,938 9,691,173
1913 …… 9,961,514 392,400 10,353,914
1914 …… 9,664,267 569,713 10,233,980
1915 …… 11,366,587 929,619 12,296,206
[page 37]
283
GOLD PRODUCTION OF KOREA. 1908-1914. incl.

GOLD GOLD ORE. PLACER GOLD Total
Year
Momme Value. Kwamme Value. Momme Value. Value
1908… 499,887 ￥2,499,171 1,210,640 ￥ 71,010 61,715 ￥243,570 ￥2,813,751

1909… 636,216 3,109,773 836,779 166,164 132,545 526,969 3,802,906
1910… 795,990 3,774,957 2,653,254 209,920 204,922 821,609 4,776,486
1911… 959,727 4,433,838 347,500 12,499 146,184 591,618 5,037,955
1912… 986,221 4,644,983 1,601,124 187,233 167,158 670,693 5,502,907
1913… 1,200,674 5,692,321 1,372,396 70,223 233,176 970,205 6,732,749
1914… 1,228,991 6,064,318 1,382,520 110,016 142,570 575,350 6,749,684
[page 38]
GOLD PRODUCTION OF KOREA BY PROVINCES FOR THE YEAR 1914.
GOLD GOLD ORE. PLACER GOLD Total
Province.
Momme Value. Kwamme Value. Momme Value. Value
Kyong-ki… 2,981 ￥10,597 12,454 ￥ 343 ― ― ￥ 10,940

NorthChoong-chung 35,391 120,174 13,905 16,998 1,160 ￥ 6,273 143,445
South 〃 107,978 529,084 ― ― 44,889 170,580 699,664
North Chul-la …… ― ― 6,480 2,595 4,930 19,670 22,265
South 〃 ― ― ― ― 2,685 10,695 10,695
North Kyung-sang 3,393 13,756 300 140 4,951 19,754 33,650
South 〃 270 1,020 ― ― ― ― 1,020
Whang-hai …… 253,218 1,046,759 207,601 32,532 850 3,400 1,082,691
South Pyeng an 17,840 72,289 ― ― 72,512 300,681 372,970
North 〃 869,688 4,261,119 1,126,120 56,248 33 132 4,317,499
Kang-won …… 1,264 3,910 ― ― 191 799 4,709
South Ham-kyung 1,968 5,610 15,660 1,160 9,528 42,002 48,772
North 〃 ― ― ― ― 341 1,364 1,364
1,288,991 ￥6,064,3 1,382,520 ￥110,01 142,570 ￥575,350 ￥6,749,68

18 6 4
[page 39]
The difference shown in the above tables between annual
exportation and annual production is due to the fact that a large part of the
gold produced is not reported to the Mining Section of the Government,
but is shown in the customs reports.
From the foregoing tables, and from the description of the
concessions operated by the foreign companies it is quite evident that
284
North Korea produces a much greater amount than South Korea, and it is
apparent also that the mines operated by foreigners are producing a large
percentage of the entire output of the country. The tables show also that
gold production is steadily increasing year by year.
The outlook for a continued increase in the production of gold
from Korea is promising, and I venture to predict that the greatest increase
will be shown from the successful development of large low-grade
gold-bearing deposits.
NOTE-Throughout this paper all calculations have been made by taking

Yen 1.00 as being equivalent to $0.50.
1 Kwamme equals 8.267 lbs. (Avoir.)
1 〃〃 10.047 〃 (Troy.)
1 Momme 〃 2.411 dwt. (Troy.) or 3.75 grams.
1 Tsubo 〃 3.953 square yards.
285
286
Volume VIII. 1917.
[page 1]
Introduction to the Study of Buddhism in Corea.

By The Right Rev. Mark Napier Trollope, D.D.
Bishop in Corea.
(Authorities used are referred to in the footnotes. As far as possible the transliteration of
Corean names and words been avoided, the full Chinese and Corean equivalents being
given in the text. No system of transliteration having met with universal approval, I have,
where necessary to transliterate at all, followed in the main the system adopted by the
French Fathers in their Dictionnaire Coréen Francais, sometimes adding a phonetic
rendering for clearness sake. Most of the phonetic systems of transliteration in vogue are
quite unscholarly and etymologically impossible. I have also obstinately adhered to my
life-long practice of spelling Corea with a C. I shall be pleased to alter that practice when it
becomes usual to spell Corinth, Constantinople and other similar names in English with a
K.)
I make no apology for asking the members and friends of the

Corean branch of the Royal Asiatic Society to turn their attention to the
study of that great religion known to us as “Buddhism,” 佛敎 불교 or
佛道 불도 which has played so important a part in the history of the
Asiatic Continent. It is indeed a subject of fascinating interest and extreme
importance whether we regard it intrinsically, as a contribution to the
religious and philosophic thought of the world, or extrinsically from the
point of view of the wide sway it has held and still holds over millions of
our fellow creatures. I do not purpose to enter in any detail into the rather
foolish controversy as to whether Buddhism boasts more adherents than
Christianity or any of the other great religious systems of the world — a
controversy of which the issue depends almost wholly on where you place
the vast population of China. There are of course no accurate statistics of
the population of the Chinese Empire available. But men like Professor
Rhys Davids, who are anxious to place the clientele of Buddhism at the
highest possible point, cheerfully estimate the population of China at five
287
Introduction to the Study of Buddhism in Corea
hundred millions and [page 2] then throw the whole into the Buddhist side
of the scales. [*See his popular little manual entitled “Buddhism: being a sketch
of the life and teachings of Gautama the Buddha.” Twenty third thousand.
S.P.C.K. London, 1912.] Compared with this, the fact that he similarly
places the whole population of Corea (reckoned when he wrote at eight
millions) in the same scale may be described as a mere flea-bite. But it is
also an evidence of the absolute unreliability of such guess-work statistics.
However great a rôle Buddhism may have played centuries ago in the
Corean peninsula, it is ridiculous to describe Corea as being now, or as
having been at any time within the last five hundred years, a Buddhist
country. [*The latest statistics give the population of Corea at a little less than
fifteen million, the number of Buddhist temples as 1412 and of monks 6920 and
nuns as 1420, i.e. 8340 in all. For five centuries, i.e. from the 14th to the 19th,
Buddhism was forbidden all access to the capital and other great cities of Corea. ]
And although Buddhism has retained its hold on China much more
successfully than on Corea, great sinologues like Dr. Legge and Dr.
Edkins agree in maintaining that it is ludicrously inaccurate to speak of
the China of to-day as a “Buddhist country,” even in the very vague sense
in which we can describe the nations of the European and American
continents as “Christian countries.” Even so however the wide spread of
Buddhism in Asia is remarkable enough. Although practically extinct now
for nearly a thousand years in India the land of its birth — whence, after a
vogue of nearly fifteen centuries, it was finally ousted by Brahmanism and
Mahometanism — Buddhism can still, in one form or another, certainly
claim to this day to be the religion of practically all Ceylon, Burmah,
Siam, Annam, Cambodia and Cochin China, as well as of Thibet and
Mongolia, while its professed adherents in China proper probably number
not less than fifty millions, and, as we know, so careful a student as the
late Professor Lloyd reckoned that it was still entitled to be called at least
“the creed of half Japan.” [*The Creed of Half Japan : by Arthur Lloyd, M.A.,
London, 1911.] In round figures therefore Buddhism can probably claim
even now not less than a hundred [page 3] million devotees. If moreover, as
Bishop Copleston [*Buddhism, primitive and present, in Magadha and Ceylon,
by Reginald Stephen Copleston, D.D., Bishop of Colombo. London, 1892 .] has
remarked, we remember that in those ancient days, when Greeks and
Romans, Jews and Christians were still comparatively few in number and
Mahomet had not yet arisen, vast unnumbered multitudes in India and
China and Central Asia were “taking refuge in the Buddha,” it is quite
possible that, up to the present moment in the world’s history, more men
288
and women have sought salvation in Buddhism than in any other religious
system.
The subject before us to-day is the place occupied, and the part
played, by this world-famous religion in the country now known to us as
Chosen or Corea. But it is impossible to think or talk intelligibly on this
limited subject without first sketching in the background, so to speak, and
refreshing our memories on the subject of Buddhism in general, at least in
its main outlines. I beg you, therefore, to note carefully the limitations I
have placed on myself in the title of this paper. As Professor Rhys Davids
says, “to trace all the developments of Buddhism, from its rise in India in
the fifth century B.C. … down to the present time, would be to write the
history of nearly half the human race.” [*Rhys Davids, op: cit. p. 8.] My
programme is something more modest, as this paper is only intended to
serve as an introduction to the study of Buddhism — and of Buddhism as
it has found expression in Corea. In other words I hope that this paper will
only be the fore-runner of many more on this subject to be subsequently
read before this Society by students far better equipped than myself. Much
of what I have to say will be very elementary and possibly already
familiar to some of those listening to me. But I want to get it down in
black and white, partly with a view to refreshing our memories, and partly
in order that we may have it handy for reference as we proceed further in
our studies. At the same time I do not want to overload the paper with
material which, however interesting in itself, has no bearing on the study
of Buddhism in Corea. Roughly speaking, we [page 4] know the order in
which, and the dates at which, the Buddhist faith reached the various
countries where it has since taken root. And it will be necessary to discard
all reference to the Buddhism of those countries which lie, so to speak, off
the main stream of our investigations.
Buddhism, we know, is an Indian religion, and had its original
habitat in and near the old kingdom of Magadha, in the basin of the river
Ganges, some four or five hundred miles N.W. of Calcutta, in a district
still called Behar, because of the numberless Vihara or Buddhist
monasteries with which it was at one time covered. And the Holy Land of
the Buddhists stretches over this district northward from the
neighbourhood of Benares to the borderland of Nepal. As I have already
reminded you, Buddhism has long been extinct in India, the land of its
birth. But Buddhism is an essentially missionary religion, and its
emissaries, pushing southwards from India, had evangelized the island of
Ceylon as far back as the third century B.C. And as the Buddhism of
289
Ceylon probably preserves, in its Pali scriptures, the most authentic

tradition as to the original contents of the Buddhist faith, reference to it is
more or less inevitable in any study of the subject. On the other hand, the
Buddhism of Burmah, Siam and Cambodia, however interesting in itself,
need not delay us, as, even if these countries were not originally
evangelized from Ceylon, the connexion between the Buddhism of Ceylon
and that of the countries of the Indo-Chinese peninsula was in subsequent
years so close as to make it unlikely that these last would throw any
additional light on the subject immediately before us.
It is these countries, Ceylon, Burmah, Siam and Cambodia,
which preserve in the main the tradition of the Hinayana 小乘 소숭 or
“lesser vehicle” — popularly known as “Southern Buddhism.” And this,
as we shall see, differs so widely from the Mahayana 大乘 대숭 or
“greater vehicle” variety, — popularly known as “Northern Buddhism,”
— with which we are chiefly familiar in China, Corea and Japan, that one
sometimes wonders how they come to be regarded as branches of the [page
5] same religion. By way of making as clear as possible, in a rough and
ready way, the difference between Hinayana and Mahayana, the lesser and
greater vehicles, I do not think I can do better than quote the following
words of Professor Lloyd, after premising that, as Pali is the sacred
language of Hinayana Buddhism, so Sanskrit 梵書 범셔 is that of the
Mahayana variety, and that it is from Sanskrit originals that practically all
the Buddhist Scriptures with which we are familiar in China, Corea and
Japan have been translated.
Professor Lloyd says:-
“The word Mahayana means “The Large Vehicle” or
“Conveyance,” and is used to distinguish the later and amplified
Buddhism from the Hinayana or “Small Vehicle,” which contains the
doctrines of that form of Buddhism which is purely Indian . . . . . It would
be a mistake to suppose that the Greater Vehicle differs from the Lesser
only because it contains in it more of subtle dialectic and daring
speculation. The case is not so: the Pali books are every whit as deep and
every whit as full of speculation as their Sanskrit rivals. The Hinayana is
the Lesser Vehicle only because it is more limited in its area. It draws its
inspiration from India and India only . . . . . But when once Buddhism
stepped outside the limits of India pure and simple, to seek converts
amongst Greeks and Parthians, Medes, Turks, Scythians, Chinese and all
the chaos of nations that has made the history of Central Asia so
extremely perplexing to the student, immediately its horizon was enlarged
290
by the inclusion of many outside elements of philosophic thought. It was

no longer the comfortable family coach in which India might ride to
salvation: it was the roomy omnibus intended to accommodate men of all
races and nations, and to convey them safely to the Perfection of
enlightened truth.” [*Lloyd, op: cit, pp.1-2.]
The northward move of the early Buddhist missionaries appears
to have followed the valley of the Ganges and the Jumna — in a
north-westerly direction rather than due north — and to have passed over
the watershed, which separates the [page 6] head waters of these rivers
from those of the Indus, into the Punjab and Cashmere, and further on still
into the lands lying between what is now the north-west frontier of India
and the Aral and Caspian Seas. Here in lands, known vaguely to the old
geographers of Europe as Parthia, Bactria and Scythia, and now largely
covered by Afghanistan and Turkestan, flourishing Buddhist communities
had been founded in the second century B.C., and here Indian religion and
culture had shaken hands with the religion and culture of Persia and of
Greece, carried thus far east under the standards of Alexander the Great
and his generals. And although these lands were to fall later under the
sway of Mahometanism, they remained strong enough and long enough in
their Buddhist faith to send out fresh shoots eastward across the deserts of
Central Asia into the Chinese Empire. Thus the Buddhism which found its
way into China early in the Christian era, and ultimately from China into
Corea and Japan, was of the “Northern” or Mahayana variety (Greater
Vehicle) and was already tinged, before its arrival in the Far East, with
foreign elements, borrowed certainly from Persia and Parthia, and
possibly also from countries even farther west. It is interesting to note in
this connexion that recent historical research has done much to prove the
veracity of the old tradition which made S. Thomas the Apostle the first
Christian Missionary in these lands on the borders of India, Persia and
China. And it is by no means improbable that interfiltration of Christian
and Buddhist ideas, which certainly occurred later in China, owing to the
missionary labours of the Nestorian Church, may have begun thus early.
One thing is, I think, quite plain — namely that Buddhism came into
China originally from these countries on the western borders of the
Empire, which occupied the territories now roughly covered by the
geographical term Turkestan, and not directly from India or Indo-China in
the south. Indeed the huge mountain-barrier of the Himalaya and allied
ranges, which stretch over fifteen hundred miles from the borders of
Turkestan to the northern confines of Burmah, formed a quite sufficient
291
barrier to prevent any such direct [page 7] communication. And this

possibly accounts for the prominent part played by “the West” in all
Chinese, Corean and Japanese Buddhism. In after years the Chinese and
allied peoples may have learned that India — or T’yen-ch’youk-kouk
天竺國 텬츅국 (Chon-Chook-kook) as the Buddhists called it — was
the real home of Buddhism and lay to the south: but it had come to them
from the west, and Sye-yek-kouk 西域國 셔역국 (So-yok-kook), or the
“kingdom of the Western region,” is still the name by which the Buddha’s
home-land is known to his far-eastern devotees, while myriads of
Buddhist believers live and die in the hope of attaining, through the good
offices of Amida, to the unspeakable bliss of the “Western paradise”
西天 셔현. Similarly the first Europeans who found their way to Japan
were known as Namban 南蠻 남만 or “barbarians of the south,”
because they reached Japan via the China Seas, long before more accurate
geographical knowledge led to their being called “Sei-yo-jin” 西洋人
셔양인 or “western ocean men.”
With regard to the arrival of Buddhism in China, there seems no
reason, in spite of vague rumours and traditions on the subject, for
believing that it was any way known there until the latter part of the first
century A.D. — that is, about the time when the twelve Apostles were
busy spreading the Christian faith in the west. Chinese annals are usually
reliable and the Chinese annals quite clearly connect the first advent of
Buddhism in China with the mysterious dream of the Emperor Ming-ti
明帝 명뎨 of the later Han dynasty 後漢紀 후한긔 in A.D. 62. As a
result of this dream, in which, on several successive nights, he had seen (I
quote Professor Lloyd [*Creed of Half Japan, p. 76. Professor Lloyd and
others with him think that these first “Missionaries” to China may after all not
have been Buddhist at all, but Christians. After pointing out how the truth of the
old legend about S. Thomas the Apostle’s mission to the East has been
rehabilitated in recent years, he draws attention to the curious parallelism between
the Emperor Ming-ti’s dream, and the vision of S. John the Apostle (Rev. VI. 2) a
prisoner on Patmos about this date.]) “a man in golden raiment, holding in his
hands a bow and arrows and pointing to [page 8] the west,” he had
equipped and sent off westwards a mission to seek for the teacher whom
his dream had seemed to proclaim. While on their journey westwards his
envoys met in the mountain passes two travellers of foreign name and
nationality, leading a white horse laden with sacred scriptures and
religious emblems. Convinced that in these men they had found that
which their Emperor had sent them to seek, they turned back with them
292
and introduced them to the Chinese capital, then situated at Loh-yang,

洛陽 락양, in the present province of Honan 河南 하남. Here they were
well received and housed in a temple, which is said to be still standing and
to be still known by the name of “The White Horse Temple” 白馬寺
백마사. This mission was short lived, as both missionaries died shortly
afterwards in about the year 70 A.D. They had however apparently
succeeded in translating into Chinese some of the scriptures they had
brought with them. And of these, one — the “Sutra of the 42 sections,”
四十二章經 사십이쟝경 containing a collection of short and pithy
sayings of the Master — has, after going through many editions and
revisions, come down to our own day. Apart from this however, this first
missionary effort on the part of Buddhism (if it was a Buddhist mission!)
seems completely to have died out. And nearly eighty years elapse before
we hear of a fresh batch of Buddhist missionaries arriving in the Chinese
capital in the year 147 A.D., this time under the leadership of a Parthian
prince, Anshikao, who appears to be known under a slightly different
name (Axidares [*See Lloyd, op: cit: pp. 117-119.]) to European history.
From that time onwards Buddhism took root in the Chinese Empire,
although it was not until the beginning of the fourth century A.D. that
Chinese subjects were actually allowed by the Chinese authorities to
become professed monks and nuns of the new religion. And it is indeed a
remarkable fact that during the first two centuries of its existence in China,
the authorized representatives of Buddhism appear to have been
exclusively foreigners. [page 9]
The career of Buddhism in China has been a chequered one,
ranging from warmest patronage by some of the Emperors of the various
dynasties under which it lived to the bitterest persecutions suffered under
others. Throughout, it has had to meet the implacable hostility of the
Confucian literati, such as Han Moun Kong (Han Yu) 韓文公 (愈)
한문공 (유), one of the foremost statesmen, philosophers and poets of the
Tang dynasty 唐紀 당나라, whose protest against the public honours
with which the Emperor had caused an alleged relic of the Buddha to be
conveyed to the imperial palace in the year 819 A.D., is still reckoned a
master-piece of Chinese literature, and renowned as one of the most
celebrated of Chinese state papers. [*This document is such a delicious
specimen of the overweening arrogance characteristic of the Confucian literati
whether of China or Corea, that it seems worthwhile to transcribe the following
passage — “Buddha was a barbarian. His language was not the language of China
His clothes were of an alien cut. He did not utter the maxims of our ancient rulers
293
nor conform to the customs which they have handed down. He did not appreciate
the bond between prince and minister, between father and son. Supposing indeed
this Buddha had come to our capital in the flesh, under an appointment from his
own state, then your Majesty might have received him with a few words of
admonition, bestowing on him a banquet and a suit of clothes, previous to
sending him out of the country with an escort of soldiers, and thereby have
avoided any dangerous influence on the minds of the people, But what are the
facts? The bone of a man long since dead and decomposed is to be admitted
forsooth within the precincts of the Imperial Palace.” He then goes on to beg that
the bone may be destroyed by fire or water, adding “The glory of such a deed will
be beyond all praise. And should the Lord Buddha have the power to avenge this
insult, then let the vials of his wrath be poured out upon the person of your
humble servant.”
See Giles, History of Chinese Literature pp. 201-3 and Mayers, Chinese Reader’s
Manual, p. 50.]
Meanwhile through good report and ill report — and there has
been plenty of the latter, whether well or ill deserved — Buddhism has
survived through all these centuries and spread throughout the length and
breadth of China, covering the land with temples and monasteries and
propagating its tenets, in [page 10] however corrupt a form, so far and wide,
as to lend not a little plausible justification to the oft-repeated description
of China as a “Buddhist country.”
From the third century of our era onwards an ever increasing
number of Buddhist missionaries found their way from India into China,
while not a few Chinese undertook expeditions to India, in order to visit
the sacred scenes of the Buddha’s life and to obtain relics, images and
authentic versions of the Buddhist scriptures. Of these last, the two most
famous were the monks Fa-hien 法顯 법현 and Yuan Chwang 元奘
원쟝 or 玄奘 현쟝 (or Hsiouen Chang), of whom the former left China
in A.D. 629 did not return until A.D. 645. [*It is interesting to note that Dr.
Legge in publishing an edition of Fa-hien’s travels for the Clarendon Press
(Oxford) used a version of the book which had been published by a Corean editor
in Corea in 1726. It is also worth noting that in the list of Chinese pilgrims to
India, extracted from old Chinese works and printed in the introduction to Mr.
Beal’s Life of “Hiuen Tsiang,” the names of no less than six Coreans appear. The
Nestorian missionaries arrived in the Chinese capital A.D. 635, and may have met
Yuan Chwang.] The vivid and very human records of these two
indefatigable pilgrims have come down to us intact, and are of great
historical value, as we are told, on the authority of those responsible for
294
the Archaeological Survey of India, that “if it were not for the Chinese
pilgrims who visited India, we should know next to nothing of the history
of that country for several centuries.” Yuan Chwang is said to have
brought back with him to China no less than six hundred and fifty seven
volumes of Buddhist scriptures in Sanskrit, not a few of which he
translated into Chinese. And you will find his name, as well as that of
another indefatigable translator, Kuma-rajiva 鳩摩羅十 구마라십 — a
celebrated Indian Missionary who reached China about A.D. 400 —
prefixed to many of the Chinese versions of the Buddhist classics now in
use in Buddhist temples in Corea.
The industry of these and other translators was undoubted. But it is an
open question whether it did not bring a curse rather [page 11] than a
blessing with it. Professor Rhys Davids [*Rhys Davids. Buddhism. p. 20-21.
But cf. Beal’s Catena of Buddhist Scriptures from the Chinese .] protests against
the “great misconceptions with regard to the supposed enormous extent of
the Buddhist Scriptures,” maintaining that in their English dress they are
only about four times as great in bulk as the Scriptures of the Old and
New Testaments. But he is speaking only of the Pali scriptures of
“Southern Buddhism.” The Sanskrit Canon of “Northern Buddhism,” with
its Chinese versions and appendices, has assumed dimensions which are
the despair of the student. Professor Lloyd [*Lloyd. Creed of Half Japan. pp.
152, 210.] speaks of “that overwhelming flood of Buddhist books and
translations which has served to make the history of Buddhism in China
such a hopeless chaos.” And it is hardly surprising under these
circumstances to hear that the Buddhist world in China, “distracted by the
immense volume and bulk of its religious books,” welcomed a reaction
under Bodhidharma 達磨大師 달마대사 and other teachers, in the 6th
century, who boldly taught that you cannot get Buddhism from books, and
that if you want enlightenment, you must get it by meditation, 禪 션
while others, weary of the confusion, resorted to the simple expedient of
walking into a library, closing their eyes and stretching forth their hands,
in faith that they would be guided to the book which was to simplify their
Creed. Hence arose the distinction between the Syen and the Kyo — or as
we should say between the “mystical” and “dogmatic” — sects,
禪敎兩宗 션교량죵, which are the only two recognized in the Corean
Buddhism of to-day. [*It is course common knowledge that Buddhism had split
into a number of divergent sects before it left its native India. Some of these
variations were transported to China, which added not a few sects of its own. In
Japan the process of sectarian subdivision has gone on until the number of sects
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into which the followers of Buddha are divided may be counted by the score, if
not by the hundred. Of these the most important are the Shingon 眞言宗, Tendai
天臺宗, and Zen 禪宗, the Jodo 淨土宗, the Shin 直宗(commonly called
Hongwanji) and Nichiren 日蓮宗 .] [page 12]
The mention of Bodhidharma’s name reminds me to note in
passing, before we leave Chinese Buddhism, a fact which marks the
shifting of the centre of Buddhist gravity from India to China. For
Bodhidharma, a native of South India, was the twenty eighth in lineal
succession of the Patriarchs, 尊者 존쟈 who had presided over the
Buddhist Church in India since the death of its founder. And in the year
520 A.D., taking the alms bowl of Buddha and the patiarchal succession
with him, he migrated from India to China, wearied probably with the
internal dissensions of Buddhism and the increasing hostility of
Brahminism in his native land. True to his principle of meditation, on
arriving at the temple of Syo-rim-sa 少林寺 소림사 [*There is a small
temple of this name, Syo-rim-sa, outside the north west gate of Seoul.] at
Lohyang, the then capital of China, he is said to have remained seated in
silent mediation, facing a blank wall, for nine years until his death, thus
becoming famous all down the ages as “the wall-gazing Brahmin”
壁觀婆羅門 벽관파라문.
With him we must leave this brief sketch of early Buddhism in
China, for nearly one hundred and fifty years before Bodhidharma’s day,
in the year 372 A.D. history records the arrival of the first Buddhist
missionary in Corea, or — to speak more accurately — in Kokourye, the
northernmost of the Three Kingdoms into which the peninsula was then
divided — Silla, Paiktjyei and Kokourye 新羅 신라 百濟 백졔 高句麗
고구려. The new religion spread rapidly through the three kingdoms, and
before the close of the sixth century A.D. had passed on to Japan. [*The
first Buddhist missionary, the monk Marananda, is recorded to have reached
Paiktjyei in 384 A.D. while 528 A.D. is given as the date of the introduction of
Buddhism into Silla. In 552 A.D. the Corean records tell of the first introduction
of Buddhism into Japan, by emissaries of the king of Paikjyei .] But into the
fascinating subject of Japanese Buddhism I must not wander. Immensely
interesting as it is, it is plainly a later off-shoot from the Buddhism of
Corea and cannot throw much light on that religion in Corea itself, for the
relations between the two countries during the centuries which followed
[page 13] were never intimate enough to allow of much reflex action by
Japanese Buddhism on that of Corea. And the great lights of Japanese
Buddhism, of a later age, like Kobo Daishi, 弘法大師 홍법대사 appear
296
to have gone straight to the fountain-head in China for more advanced

study and to have drawn their inspiration from there rather than from
Chosen.
On the other hand China and Corea were bound together by
much closer ties, civil and ecclesiastical. And so it happens that the
development of Buddhism in Corea was largely affected by what was
going on in China. And when Thibet in the fifth and sixth centuries of our
era embraced a form of Buddhism, drawn partly from India and partly
from China, and, in embracing it, remoulded it in a form unknown
elsewhere in the Buddhist world, this new variety of the old religion
(which was largely connected with spells and magic and which afterwards
under the name of Lamaism extended to Mongolia) not only reacted on
the Buddhism of China, but to a certain extent on that of Corea also.
So far we have been considering the religion known as
“Buddhism” merely as an external phenomenon and watching its progress
through the centuries as it gradually permeates the peoples of Southern,
Central and Eastern Asia. It is time now to turn our attention to its
contents. And here our difficulties crowd upon us thick and fast. In
considering these difficulties, I wish to say at the outset that I do not
regard it as any part of my business here to take up a critical attitude or to
institute comparisons between Buddhism and Christianity, to the
advantage or disadvantage of one or the other, though occasionally a
reference may be allowed to what is very familiar to us in our Christian
experience, simply to make things clear by way of comparison or
illustration. I speak indeed as a convinced Christian, convinced too that
the Catholic Faith as enshrined in the creeds of the Church is not merely
one among many possible religions, all equally excellent, but the One
True Religion. I am however no reckless iconoclast and my religious
convictions do not in the least prevent me from approaching such a [page
14] religion as Buddhism with a respectful and even sympathetic interest.
But the difficulty and complexity of the subject are enormous.
To begin with, Buddhism is by origin an Indian religion. And the
Indian mind has always evinced a positive distaste for mere history and
for the recording of bare facts as such. Moreover the teacher whom we
know as the Buddha left no writings. Nor is there any fixed canon of
scripture, universally accepted by all Buddhists, to which we can appeal
either for the facts of his life or the main outlines of his teaching.
Mahayana differs from Hinayana, “Northern” from “Southern” Buddhism,
the Sanskrit from the Pali canon and both from the Chinese.
297
All forms of Buddhism everywhere, indeed, agree that the

Buddhist canon of Scripture is comprised in the Tripitaka, 三藏 삼장 or
“Three receptacles,” which may be said to correspond roughly to the Two
Testaments (Old and New) of the Christian Bible. All are moreover
agreed that these “Three receptacles” consist of
(a) The Vinaya 律藏 률장 section, which gives the
disciplinary rules of the Buddhist community.
(b) The Sutra 經藏 경장 section, which professes to give the
discourses uttered by the Buddha during his life time.
(c) The Abhidharma 論藏 론장 section which includes a
number of metaphysical and miscellaneous treatises.
But there the agreement ceases, nobody being able to state precisely what
is and what is not included in the several sections. [*A comparison with the
corresponding facts relating to the Christian Scriptures of the Old and New
Testaments may here be permitted by way of illustration. All Christians,
Protestant and Catholic, Eastern and Western, are agreed and have been agreed
since very early times that the New Testament is composed of precisely twenty
seven well-known documents and no more. (It is interesting to note that this is the
number given on the Nestorian Monument, erected at Si-ngan-fou in China in 782
A.D.) Nobody thinks of putting the Apocryphal Gospels (of which many are
extant) or even the authentic writings of such well-known contemporaries of the
Apostles as S. Clement, S. Ignatius, or S. Polycarp on the same level as the
Canonical Scriptures of the New Testament, still less of inserting in the Canon
great Christian classics like S. Augustine’s Confessions, Thomas a Kempis’
Imitation of Christ, Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress or Milton’s Paradise Lost. There
is very nearly the same agreement about the Scriptures of the Old Testament
except for a margin of fourteen no very important books, accepted by Roman
Catholics, rejected by Protestants and assigned a middle position by the Church
of England, under the title “Apocrypha”] [page 15] A further difficulty arises
from the syncretistic character of Buddhism. It has the most extraordinary
capacity for absorbing into its system, and making part of itself, any
religious beliefs, however alien to its first principles, which may be
prevalent in the countries to which it goes. Tree-worship and
serpent-worship almost everywhere, Shivaite and Brahmin elements in
Ceylon, nat-worship in Burmah, ancestor worship in China,
Kami-worship in Japan, the almost monotheistic worship of Adibuddha in
Nepal, the terrible superstitions and the magical cult of the
Bon-worshipper in Thibet, have all found a welcome from “Buddhism”
and been assimilated in turn.
In Corea, for instance, nearly every Buddhist temple has two
subsidiary shrines — one to the “Seven Stars” 七星 칠셩 of the
constellation known to us as the “Great Bear,” and one to the “Spirit of
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the Hill” 山神 산신 on which the temple stands — neither of which can

have much to do with Buddhism proper. But the oriental mind, not having
been trained as our minds mostly have been, along the lines of inexorable
Aristotelian logic, simply revels in what too often appears to us a
bewildering inconsistency, coupled with a habit of hazy inaccurate
analysis, and a willingness to accept as “facts” statements supported by
the slenderest evidence or by none at all. The literary fertility of the
Chinese has made the confusion worse confounded. Sutra after Sutra has
been composed in, or translated into, Chinese, with the words “spoken by
Buddha” 佛說 불셜 on the title page, but without the slightest evidence
as to the truth of the statement and much evidence to the contrary. And in
this connexion we need to remember that no reliable or connected
biography of “the Buddha” has reached [page 16] us. We have to piece it
together, as best we can, from different works in different languages,
dealing with different periods of his life and all of doubtful date — the old
Pali chronicles and scriptures of Ceylon bearing away the palm for
authenticity and reliability, as evidenced by the remarkable discoveries
made by those responsible for the Archaeological Survey of India. [*The
Sanskrit work known as the Lalita Vistara, on which most of the Chinese (and
therefore Corean and Japanese) lives of “the Buddha” are based, seems to date at
the earliest from the early centuries of the Christian era, i.e. five or six hundred
years or more after “the Buddha’s” life time. Professor Rhys Davids puts its
historical value, as evidence for the facts of “the Buddha’s” life, on about a par
with the historical value of Milton’s Paradise Regained, as evidence for the facts
of the life of Christ.] Until recently there was an acknowledged discrepancy
of nearly five hundred years between the earliest and latest dates assigned
to the birth of “the Buddha.” And so lately as 1893, in the “outlines of
Buddhist doctrine,” drawn up under the auspices of the leading Buddhist
sects in Japan for circulation at the Chicago Parliament of Religions, the
date of his birth was given as 1027 B.C. whereas it is now almost
universally admitted that he died in his eightieth year about 480 B.C. He
must therefore have been born about the middle of the Sixth century B.C.,
and was, roughly speaking, contemporary with Confucius in the east, and
Pythagoras in the west, and flourished somewhere near the period when
the Jews were returning to Palestine after the Seventy Years’ captivity in
Babylon.
In endeavouring to form some idea as to what the main contents
of the Buddhist religion really are, it seems natural to recur to that which
is probably the oldest and most authentic formula in Buddhism — a
299
formula as characteristic of Buddhism as the Trinitarian baptismal

formula is of Christianity — known in Sanskrit as Trisarana, or the “Three
Refuges” 三歸 삼귀:-
(A) I take refuge in Buddha 歸依佛 귀의불.
(B) I take refuge in Dharma, or the Buddhist “law” 歸依法
귀의법. [page 17]
(C) I take refuge in Samgha, or the Buddhist “church” 歸依僧
귀의승.
This formula is, I think, in universal use wherever Buddhism of
any variety is known. And it will be convenient to arrange our thoughts
under these three heads.
(A) “I take refuge in Buddha.” But whom or what do we mean
by “Buddha”? For “Buddha” is not, strictly speaking, a personal name at
all. It is a title which, according to the tenets of Buddhism, has been
already borne by many individuals previous to the one whom we know as
“the Buddha,” and which will be borne by many others in ages yet to
come. It is used to describe the state of those who have attained to Bodhi,
or complete intelligence, and so, having broken away from the bondage of
sense-perception and self, are completely holy and ready to enter Nirvana
涅槃 녈반. The universe in which we live has, according to Buddhist
theory, already passed through many Kalpas or previous periods of
existence, each of which produced numberless “Buddhas.” According to
one computation the last three Buddhas of the previous Kalpa and the first
four of this (of whom our Buddha is the latest to appear so far) make up a
group of seven “ancient Buddhas.” [*Hanging on the walls of most of the
larger temples in Corea may be seen a large picture, representing the worship
offered to “Buddha” by the Buddhist Church on behalf of those who have died in
the midst of one or other of the avocations of ordinary daily life, which are
pourtrayed in the lower part of the canvas with a vigour and humour recalling the
“Kermesse” pictures of some of the Dutch painters. But the “Buddha” represented
as the object of worship in this curious picture consists not of a single figure but
of “seven Buddhas” — Chil-ye-rai, 七如來 칠여래 who are pourtrayed in a
row at the top of the picture. These “seven Buddhas” stand in some not very
easily explained relation to the mystic Trinity of Buddhas of which mention is
made lower down.] According to another computation our Buddha is the
fourth in a series of five belonging to this kalpa, of whom three
(Krakuchanda, Kanakamuni and Kasyapa) preceded him, and the fifth,
Maitreya, or Mi-ryek 彌勒 미력 is the “coming saviour” for whose
advent all devout Buddhists are waiting. [page 18]
It is a curious thing that, although figures of this “Coming
Saviour” are not very frequently found over the altars in the Buddhist
temples of Corea, the name Miryek has become permanently attached to
300
the isolated stone figures standing in the open air — many of them of
great size and obviously of great antiquity — which are to be found in so
many places. So much is this the case that Miryek — somewhat like
(Bodhi) Dharma in Japan — seems to have become a common term in
Corea for all such statues, to which (if I remember rightly) the name of
Buddha is never given. This devotion to Miryek, or Maitreya, in Corea,
needs some further elucidation, which cannot however be entered on here.
Those who, like Maitreya (Miryek), have, after many previous
existences, reached the stage in which they are ripe for the attainment of
Buddhahood in their next earthly existence but who have deliberately
delayed the attainment, in order that they may devote themselves to the
salvation of others before they pass into Nirvana, are known as
Bodhisattwa, 菩薩 보살. And these form a numerous and popular class
of divinities, who play a very important part in Mahayana Buddhism and
to whom I shall have to refer again.
Not only, however, is it the case that many other individuals,
besides the one familiar to us as “The Buddha,” have in past ages attained,
or will in future ages attain, to Buddhahood, but every Buddha, including
the one best known to us, has passed successively through a great many
previous existences in the three worlds of heaven, earth and hell, as man
or beast or spirit, as a preliminary to the attainment of Buddhahood and
Nirvana. And one of the most popular books in the Buddhist Canon is the
Jataka, giving the story of the five hundred and fifty previous lives lived
by him whom we know as “the Buddha” before he appeared in the world
for the last time as Gautama Sakyamuni, or Siddartha, the princely son of
Suddhodana, the King of Kapilavastu and his queen the lady Maya.
It is however with this historic “Buddha,” the man who was born,
as we have seen, about 560, and who died about 480 B.C., [page 19] that we
have chiefly to do. And, to prevent confusion, let us begin by recounting
some of the names by which he is best known. European writers on
Buddhism are always apt to take too much for granted in their readers, and
by ringing the changes on these various names without any warning or
explanation, to create a great deal of avoidable confusion.” [*The
terminology of Buddhism presents one of the greatest difficulties to the beginner.
The same name or word is spelt differently in Pali and Sanskrit and differently
again in the various vernaculars of the countries where Pali and Sanskrit
scriptures are used — e.g., in Singhalese, Burmese, Siamese, Thibetan,
Mongolian. Their translation or transliteration into Chinese characters brings in a
further difficulty, as the characters are of course pronounced differently in Corean,
301
Japanese and the various dialects of China. E.g., the character 佛 is Poul in
Corean, Butsu in Japanese and Fa in Chinese.]
First then, there is the name Buddha, 佛 불 or 부쳐 which is,
as we have seen, strictly speaking a title and not a name, and which is, as
such, used of many others besides the historic Buddha. It is moreover, I
think, quite plain that the term “Buddha” became used for something very
like the Christian term “God” or “Godhead” or “the Divine Essence,” in
some of the later, more mystical and more highly developed forms of
Mahayana Buddhism, prevalent about the date when Buddhism passed
from China to Corea and thence to Japan. Hence we find the curious
mystic Trinity of Vairochana Buddha, 毗盧庶那佛 비로사나불
Loshana Buddha, 盧舍那佛, 로사나불 and Sakyamuni Buddha
釋迦牟尼佛 셕가모니불, which presents so many curious points of
resemblance to the Christian doctrine of the Trinity, that it would seem as
if it must have been partly derived from it, although in the main it is
doubtless a reflection of Hindu theology. In this Trinity it will be observed
that the historic “Buddha” (Sakyamuni) plays a comparatively subordinate
part, the term “Buddha” (like the Adi-Buddha of Nepal) standing for
something like “the Divine essence,” of which Vairochana (explained in
Chinese as “law-body” 法身), Loshana (“recompense-body” 報身) and
Sakyamuni (“transformation-body” 化身) are emanations. In at [page 20]
least one of the largest and oldest Buddhist temples in Corea, [*The
famous monastery of Tai-pep-chu-sa, on Sok-ri-san, in the prefecture of
Po-eun in North Chyoung Chyeng To [大法住寺 대법쥬사 俗離山쇽리산
報恩郡보은군 忠淸北道 충청북도] This monastery was founded in A.D. 553.
Sok-ri-san (Hill of farewell to the world) is known to Coreans as the “little
Diamond Mountain.”] the Buddhas exposed for worship over the high altar
are three colossal seated figures of Vairochana (in the middle) Loshana (on
Vairochana’s left hand) and Sakyamuni (on Vairochana’s right hand).
Secondly, there is the family name Gautama, not much used, I
fancy, in Corea, China and Japan, but commonly used as a distinctive
personal name by European writers.
Thirdly, our Buddha is known as the Prince Siddartha,
悉達太子 실달태자, which was his official title as his father’s son, and
heir to his father’s throne, before he withdrew from the world.
Fourthly, there is the term Sakyamuni 釋迦牟尼 셕가모니 (or
as Coreans pronounce it Syek-ka-mo-ni), the saint or ascetic of the Sakya
tribe, of which his father was king.
302
Fifthly, there is a variation of this, Syek-ka-ye-rai, 釋迦如來

셕가여래 very commonly used in Corea, the termination Ye-rai being
composed of two Chinese characters meaning “thus come,” and standing
for the Sanskrit term Tathagata, which is the highest epithet of all who
attain to Buddhahood.
Sixthly, there is the honorific title “world honoured one” 世尊
셰존 which is commonly used in Chinese and Corean Buddhist books as
a title of respect. And with this may be mentioned―
Seventhly, Bhagavat, a Sanskrit title commonly used of any
Buddha, and meaning “a man of virtue or merit.”
It will perhaps simplify matters if, in the rest of this paper, I refer
to him as Gautama Buddha, although it is strictly speaking [page 21] an
anachronism to use the title “Buddha” previous to his attainment of Bodhi
or Buddhahood in his thirty sixth year. Until that event he was in strict
parlance only a Bodhisattwa.
Gautama Buddha then was the son of a king or petty rajah,
named Suddhodhana, but known to the Coreans as Cheng-pan-oang,
精飯王 졍반왕 who reigned over a small country about one hundred and
thirty miles or so north of Benares, the capital of which was Kapilavastu
迦毗羅國 가비라국. His mother, the lady Maya 摩耶夫人 마야부인
died a week after giving birth to her son, who was brought up in his
father’s palace by her sister (also one of king Suddhodhana’s wives), the
lady Maha prajapati — famous ever after, not only as Gautama Buddha’s
foster mother, but also as the first woman admitted into the Buddhist
Community, and the first abbess of the first Buddhist convent for women.
There is, as I have already said, no authentic and reliable
biography of Gautama Buddha. But the story of his life, as accepted by
Corean Buddhists, is divided into eight chapters, recording the eight chief
events or periods of his life. These “eight scenes” 捌相 팔샹 are
pourtrayed in a large picture, divided into eight sections — or in eight
separate pictures — to be found hanging in a prominent place in most
Buddhist Temples in Corea. And for fifty sen you can buy nowadays at
any bookstall in Seoul a little En Moun booklet, called the Pal Syang Rok
捌相錄 팔샹록 which sets out at length in eight chapters, illustrated by
these eight pictures, the Story of Gautama Buddha’s life.
(I) The first scene shews us the incarnation of Gautama
Buddha in the womb of his mother Maya, who in a dream
sees her son that is to be, coming down on a white elephant
out of the Tushita heaven 兜率天 도솔텬 [*It must be
remembered that Buddhism speaks of many different heavens. The
303
Tushita heaven is that occupied by all Bodhisattwas, before they

finally appear on earth as Buddha, Maitreya, the “coming saviour,”
is now resident in this heaven.] where he had been spending his
last previous existence (as a Bodhisattwa). [page 22]
(II) The second scene shews us the birth of the child
Gautama Buddha in the park of Lumbini, 毗藍園 비람원
fifteen miles east of Kapilavastu, together with the wonders
which attended his birth, and the announcement of the news
to his father king Suddhohana.
(III) The third scene shews us Gautama Buddha, now known
as Prince Siddartha, 悉達太子 실달태자 grown to man’s
estate and having his eyes opened to the hollowness and
misery of this life by the sight of an old man, a sick man, a
funeral and a holy hermit, during his perambulations outside
the gates of his father’s palace.
(IV) The fourth scene shews the Prince Siddartha (Gautama
Buddha) now thoroughly awakened to the miseries of this
world with its ceaseless round of birth, old age, sickness and
death 生老病死 성로병사 effecting his escape from the
palace, in spite of the obstacles placed in his way by his
royal father. As egress by the gates is impossible, his faithful
horse carries him over the palace wall, the four heavenly
kings 四天王 사텬왕 supporting the horse’s feet until he
reaches the ground in safety.
(V) The fifth scene shews us Gautama Buddha burying
himself as a hermit in the wilds of the Himalaya mountains,
雪山 셜산 (where he devotes himself for six years to a life
of great austerity) after cutting off his hair and sending it and
his other belongings back to his father by the hand of his
faithful groom Tchandaka, 車匿 챠닉 who accompanied
his master thus far.
(VI) The sixth scene shews Gautama Buddha, wearied out
with his austerities, sitting under the Bodhi-tree [page 23]
菩提樹 보리슈 and, after a severe struggle with the King
of Evil, Mara Pisana, 摩羅波旬 마라파슌 and his
satellites, attaining to complete enlightenment and therefore
to Buddhahood.
(VII) The seventh scene shews Gautama, now a completely
enlightened Buddha, returning to Benares, where, in the
famous deer park 鹿苑 록원, he proceeds to “set in motion
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the wheel of the law,” 轉法젼법 by preaching the doctrine

by which the world may be saved, to the five ascetics who
had been with him in the Himalayas, and who now become
his first Arhats 羅漢라한 or disciples, and the first monks
(Bhikshu) 比丘비구 of his community.
(VIII) The eighth and last scene shews Gautama Buddha at
the end of a long life of unwearied missionary labours, now
in his seventy ninth year, surrounded by his five hundred
disciples or Arhats, uttering his last discourses and then
dying and passing away into Nirvana 涅槃 녈반: after
which his body is cremated and his relics 舍利 사리
divided into eight portions for safe keeping.
Now if I were to keep you here a week I could not find time to
fill in all the details of this story, many of which are full of human interest
and beauty, nor endeavour to sift the obviously legendary from the
obviously true, though there is much on which one would gladly linger.
We must however leave the story as it is here in outline and pass on to
consider what follows, only premising that of course the greater part of
Gautama Buddha’s labours took place in the space of nearly fifty years
which elapse between the two last scenes, as he is reckoned to have been
about thirty six years old when he attained to Buddhahood and started out
on his missionary journeys.
(B) And now let up pass to the second of the “refuges” — “I take
refuge in Dharma (or the law),” and consider briefly what this “law” was,
in which Gautama Buddha thought that he found salvation under the
Bodhi tree and which he spent his [page 24] life in propagating. We must
remember that Gautama Buddha’s life was lived against a Hindu
back-ground and that his religious system was a reform of the older
Hinduism or Brahmanism, which never ceased to pursue the newer faith
with bitter hostility. And it is important to remember that Gautama
Buddha deserted the Pantheism of the old Hindu religion for a blank
atheism which had no place for God in any sense of the word familiar to
us. Brahma, 梵王 범왕 who to the Hindu was the “father of all living”
and into whose Essence all devout Hindus hope to be re-absorbed,
remained indeed, and is, like his companion deity Indra or Sakra, 帝釋王
뎨셕왕 a familiar figure in Buddhist mythology and in Corean Buddhist
art. But they are only two among the “gods many and lords many” who
people the many heavens of Buddhist theology. For in Buddhism every
world has its appropriate surrounding of many heavens and hells, tenanted
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by Devas or good spirits, and Asuras or evil spirits. But all these are only
beings like ourselves, who are passing through various stages of existence,
in accordance with acquired merit or demerit, but who will sooner or later
have to return to earth and to go through the same process as Gautama
Buddha, if ever they are to attain salvation by entering Nirvana. Again we
must remember that Gautama Buddha imported wholesale into his system
the old Hindu idea of the “transmigration of souls,” in accordance with
which all sentient beings are passing through a ceaseless rotation of
existence 輪廻 륜희 — described as “the great ocean of birth and death”
生死大海 성사대해 — as beast or man or spirit, until they acquire
sufficient merit to “reach the other side” 到彼岸 도피안 of the ocean of
misery. Into the complicated question of what place the soul of the
individual plays in Buddhism I cannot enter now. It is one of the points on
which western logic finds it most difficult to follow the eastern teacher.
For, while denying the existence of the individual soul and refusing to
admit that man’s being consists of anything but an agglomeration of Five
Skandha, 五衆 오즁 or attributes, which are dispersed at death, he
somehow managed to believe that the Karma, [page 25] 行法 행법 i.e.
merit or demerit acquired by the individual during life, could survive the
dissolution of the individual and undergo a fresh incarnation in some other
being — man, beast, god or devil — who was thus at same time one with,
and yet different from, the one just dead.
With his mind full of such thoughts as these, Gautama Buddha
under the Bodhi Tree evolved the “Four Noble Truths,” 四諦 사톄, the
apprehension of which is necessary to every one who wishes to enter on
the path of Buddhahood and gain Nirvana. These four dogmas are
summarized as follows:―
(a) The dogma of misery 苦諦 고테―that all existence is
misery.
(b) The dogma of thirst or craving 聚諦 취테-that this
misery is due to the thirst or craving for what this world or
the next has to give.
(c) The dogma of extinction 滅諦 멸테―that it is possible
to extinguish this thirst or craving, and therefore to escape
from the misery of existence.
(d) The dogma of the path 道諦 도테―that there is a path
leading to the extinction of thirst or craving and therefore to
release from the misery of existence.
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Gautama Buddha then proceeds to elaborate this path to salvation

under eight headings known as the Eight Correct Gates or Eightfold Noble
Path, 八正門 팔뎡문, shewing that salvation (i.e. the extinction of desire,
and therefore of the misery of existence) is to be attained by:-
(1) Right views (or belief) 正見
(2) Right aims (or resolve) 正思惟
(3) Right speech 正語
(4) Right action (or behaviour) 定業
(5) Right means of livelihood (or occupation) 正精進
(6) Right endeavour (effort) 正定
(7) Right mindfulness (or contemplation) 正念
(8) Right meditation (or concentration) 正命
These are nowhere very clearly expounded, and they certainly do
not appear to bulk very largely in Corean Buddhism. [page 26] When I
spoke to a learned old Buddhist abbot on the subject last summer, he
brushed all this — which is really fundamental Buddhism — on one side
as being mere Syo-seung-pep 小乘法 소승법 or the teaching of the
“little vehicle,” while he himself urged the importance of the
Tai-seung-pep 大乘法 대승법 or the teaching of the “great vehicle,”
with its emphasis on the Six Paramita 六度 륙도 (Buddhism is great on
these numerical categories) or means of “passing to the other side” of the
ocean of existence and misery. And I am bound to say that I find these six
“cardinal virtues” — charity, morality, patience, energy, contemplation
and wisdom — more intelligible and attractive than the other. Both
systems are apparently based on the recognition of another numerical
category, the Twelve Nidana 十二因緣 십이인연 i.e. the concatenation
of all forms of existence through a chain of cause and effect numbering
twelve links, viz. death, birth, existence, clinging to life, love, sensation,
contact, the six senses, name and form, perfect knowledge, action and
ignorance. Sanskrit scholars are not agreed as to the right rendering of
these twelve terms and I must say that this is one of the cases in which my
mind wholly fails to follow the principle on which such a strange and
apparently arbitrary assortment of varied conceptions is grouped together
under a single heading. And until I have made a much profounder study of
Buddhism, I can neither hope myself to understand, nor to make clear to
others, the truth which is presumed to underly it.
More interesting to us, because more practical than these rather
confused metaphysical conceptions, are, I think, the famous Ten
Commandments 十誡 십계 of Buddhism, which are binding in a greater
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or less degree on all disciples of Buddha, and which have probably

contributed more than anything else to its strength and vigour. They are:-
(1) Not to kill any living thing,
(2) Not to steal,
(3) Not to commit impurity.
(4) Not to lie, [page 27]
(5) Not to drink wine,
(6) Not to eat at unseasonable times(? to eat flesh),
(7) Not to take part in singing, dancing or theatrical
performances,
(8) Not to use flowers or perfumes for personal adornment,
(9) Not to sit on a high broad bed or couch,
(10) Not to possess gold, silver or jewels.
By an “economy” which would doubtless find favour in some
western countries, only the first half of the decalogue is strictly speaking
binding on the laity, the observance of the whole being limited to those
who are admitted to the “professed” order of monks and nuns. [*Hence the
technical term for “ordination” or “profession,” i.e. admission to the order of
professed monks or nuns, is 계밧다 i.e. to receive the Commandments.]
Before passing away from the duties incumbent on the devout
Buddhist, reference must be made to Dhyana, 禪 션, a word which for
want of a better equivalent is most commonly rendered “meditation” or
“abstract contemplation.” So characteristic of Buddhism is this exercise of
the faculties that “professor of meditation” 禪師 션사 has come to be
one of the polite terms used in addressing a Buddhist monk, while
Buddhist temples are poetically described as “halls of meditation” 禪院
션원.
Dhyana, in one or other of its stages, may be described as the
crown of all the Buddhist’s efforts after moral self-control, (in obedience
to the Ten Commandments) and after perfect knowledge (in accordance
with the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Noble Path). In its highest
form — described as a sort of ecstatic trance, in which the mind reaches
“a state of absolute indifference, or self-annihilation of thought,
perception and will” [*Eitel: Handbook of Chinese Buddhism, s.v. Dhyana.] —
it is nothing less than the actual threshold of Nirvana itself. In some of its
more elementary forms, leading up to this, the practice of Dhyana is
supposed to form part of the daily [page 28] duty of every devout Buddhist.
Like the expectation of entering Nirvana, however, it seems to have
entirely dropped out of practical politics in the Buddhism of the south —
308
at least in Ceylon and Siam. Of China we are told that though it survives
in a debased and mechanical form in some monasteries, in many others it
has been entirely discontinued. [*Hackmann: Buddhism as a Religion, pp.
222-3.]
In Japan, as we know, one of the most numberous and highly
esteemed sects of Buddhism lays such stress on the practice that it is
known distinctively as the Zen (or contemplative) sect 禪宗 션죵: while
in Corea all the various sects of Buddhism have for centuries been
grouped under these two headings, the mystical (contemplative) and the
dogmatic sects 禪敎兩宗 션교량죵. As a matter of fact few traces of the
practice appear to survive in Corean Buddhism — except so far as it is
perhaps represented by the sort of coma likely to be superinduced by the
monotonous repetition (for hours or days or even months or years at a
stretch) of the formula Nam mou Amida Poul, 南無阿彌陀佛
남무아미타불 accompanied by the ceaseless banging of a gong or drum,
or both. It is hardly worth while labouring the distinction between Dhyana
and the meditation recommended to us by the great Christian mystics and
systematized for us by S. Ignatius Loyola and the other great masters of
the spiritual life, who did so much to bring vital religion back to life again
in western Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Instead of
the desperate attempt to think oneself away into nothingness, the Christian
mystic practices meditation, or “mental prayer,” with the view of
identifying himself more wholly with the One Source of all life, light, joy
and beauty. And whereas both practices start from a rigorous effort after
perfect moral self-control, the Christian practice of meditation aims at
bringing into play and exercising in turn all the faculties of the human
soul one by one — the memory, the intellect, the imagination, the
emotions and the will — instead of limiting itself to the intellect and then
trying to annihilate that. [page 29]
(C) There remains the third of “the Refuges” — “I take refuge in
Samgha (or the Buddhist church).” Although Gautama Buddha had come
to see the comparative valuelessness of mere asceticism as such, he had
foreseen the difficulty likely to be experienced by mere individuals living
in the world, in their endeavour to follow his teaching. One of his first
steps therefore was to form his followers into a community of celibate
men — to which afterwards women were somewhat grudgingly admitted.
And this visible Church which has been established wherever Buddhism
has been preached, is the third of “the Three Refuges,” It is a refuge in the
sense that normally men and women can only hope to attain such
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salvation as Gautama Buddha promised by living thus retired from the

world and its ties (a very different conception from that which underlies
Christian monasticism): and it has come to be a “refuge” in another and
lower sense, because the merits of the community have come to possess a
vicarious value for mere members of the laity, 俗人 쇽인 who shew
their appreciation of the community’s value and spiritual privileges by
generous benefactions. It is noteworthy that Gautama Buddha expressed
great trepidation about admitting women to his community. And when he
as last yielded to the urgent insistence of his beloved disciple Ananda,
阿難陀 아란타 prompted by Maha prajapati (Gautama’s aunt and
fostermother, who afterwards became the first superior of the first convent
for women), he afterwards expressed his great regret at having given any
such permission and prophesied the speedy downfall of his “law” as a
consequence!! The communities of nuns or Bhikshunis 比丘尼 비구니
have led a chequered existence. And though in Corea for instance there
are many convents of Buddhist nuns, usually known as Seung-pang 僧房
승방, in other countries like Ceylon (and, I think, Burmah) they no longer
exist. In any case the highest hope held out to woman under the Buddhist
system is that in some future existence she may be born as a man and so
have a chance of qualifying for Buddhahood and Nirvana.
I greatly regret that the time at my disposal does not permit [page
30] of my dwelling in detail on some of the leading disciples of Gautama
Buddha, or of the long line of Patriarchs, who ruled over the Buddhist
Church in India, until the Patriarchal succession was removed by
Bodhidharma to China in the 6th century A.D., shortly after which date it
died out.
But one must just refer in passing to Gautama Buddha’s own son
Rahula (one of the first to be admitted to his father’s community),
[*Gautama Buddha had been married to his wife Yasodhara before he retired
from the world. Authorities are not agreed as to whether Rahula was born just
before or just after his father left home. In any case the touching story of his
midnight farewell to his sleeping wife and child, is a later addition to the Buddha
legend.] and to his cousin Devadatta, who was the Judas of the company
and was finally swallowed up in hell, as well as to the beloved disciple
Ananda 阿難尊者 아란존쟈, also a relation of Gautama Buddha and his
personal attendant throughout his long ministry, and the aged Kasyapa,
迦葉尊者 가셥존쟈, who took the seat of Patriarch immediately after his
master had passed into Nirvana, and was followed in that office by
Ananda. You will often see the portraits of these two last mentioned,
standing right and left of the enthroned Buddha, amid a crowed of
attendant Bodhisattwas, in one of the pictures most commonly displayed
310
over the high altar in Buddhist temples in Corea. With regard to the
Patriarchs no two lists agree after we have passed the names of Kasyapa
and Ananda, the first two to hold the honoured office, But certain names
like Asvagosha 馬鳴 마명 and Nagarjuna 龍樹 룡슈, have, for one
reason or another, attained a far greater fame than that reached by the
greater number of those who have borne the title. In the great temple of
Hoa-chang-sa, [*華藏寺화장사, 寶鳳山보봉산 長湍郡쟝단군] not far
from Songdo, I came across a very interesting series of painted portraits of
all the twenty-eight Patriarchs, down to Bodhidharma, which seems to
merit more care than it receives. And more interesting still is the
wonderful series of fourteen life-sized and life-like portraits of [page 31] the
earliest Buddhist Patriarchs, executed in stone bas-relief over a thousand
years ago and still to be seen in the extraordinary rock-temple of
Syek-koul-an [*石窟菴셕굴암 慶州郡경쥬군] near the old Silla capital of
Kyeng-chu in South Corea.
And now having said so much, one is conscious that one has left
out at least one half, and that not the least important half, of the Buddhism
of Corea, and indeed of all Eastern Asia. For as yet we have not even
touched on all that surrounds the great name of Amida Buddha,
阿彌陀佛 아미타불 and the blissful paradise of the West,
西方極樂世界 셔방극락셰계, or 西天 셔텬 or “pure land” 淨土
졍토, over which he rules, and which he promises to those who turn to
him. And here we are indeed face to face with a great difficulty. Although
Amida’s name occurs in a Sutra which bears, as most others do, the words
“spoken by Buddha” on the title, there is every reason to suppose that
Amida worship, and all that surrounds it, formed no part of the original
Buddhist faith. It is wholly unknown to the Buddhism of the south, and
would appear to be a reflection of elements — partly Persian, partly
perhaps Jewish and Christian — imported into Buddhism during its
contact with the civilisation of Greece and Persia at the beginning of the
Christian era. However that may be, it has succeeded in establishing itself
so firmly in the Buddhism of the Far East that Amida Buddha (who does
not even pretend to be a historical character) is at least as prominent a
figure in the Buddhist temples of Corea and neighbouring countries, as
Syek-ka-moni (i.e. Gautama Buddha) himself. Indeed, in the temples of
some of the largest and most popular Buddhist sects in Japan, like the
Jodo and the Shin (or Hongwanji), Amida Buddha fills the place occupied
by Our Lord Jesus Christ in the Christian Church, while the historic
Buddha (Gautama) ranks hardly higher than “Moses or one of the
prophets.” Most of the devotions one hears in Buddhist temples even in
Corea are addressed to [page 32] Amida Buddha. And one of the favourite
311
pictures, in any large Corean temple is the Keuk-rak-kou-p’oum,

極樂九品 극락구품 shewing the nine stages of the Blissful Paradise of
the west, to which Amida Buddha admits those who trust in him. And
though he has so largely pushed the historic Buddha Gautama (or
Syek-ka-moni) on one side, and though his “paradise of the West” seems
to be in flat contradiction to all that Gautama Buddha himself taught, no
Buddhist devotee in Corea seems to vex himself about, or even to be
aware of, the inconsistency. The explanation usually given is that, great as
is the bliss of the “western heaven,” it is still something far short of the
“Nirvana,” which must be the ultimate aim of all true Buddhists. But so
great are the mercies of Amida Buddha that he throws wide open to all
who trust in him the gates of his paradise, entrance into which carries with
it the promise of an easy passage into Nirvana, after but one more
re-incarnation. But for all practical purposes, Amida’s rather sensuous
paradise would appear to have usurped the position of Nirvana as the
ultimate goal of Buddhist faith among most of the peoples of the Far East.
Side by side with Amida Buddha and Syek-ka-moni (i.e.
Gautama) Buddha, but always in a position subsidiary to the one or the
other, mention must be made of the numerous and popular class of
secondary divinities, known as Bodhisattwas, 菩薩 보살 to whom
reference has already been made. Of these the most popular in Corea are
the six following:-
(1) Miryek Posal, i.e. Maitreya 彌勒菩薩 미력보살 or the
coming Saviour, who will become a Buddha on his next
incarnation. His figure is sometimes found in a separate
shrine in some of the larger temples, sometimes as one of the
attendant figures on Amida or Syekkamoni Buddha, over the
high altar in the chief shrine. As already explained, the name
Miryek is popularly given to all the isolated stone figures, —
most of them of great antiquity — which may be found
scattered far and wide over the hills and dales of Corea.
[page 33](2) Ti-tjang Posal 地藏菩薩 디장보살, who most

commonly occupies the central position in the chapels
specially devoted to the souls of the departed 冥府殿
명부뎐 in the larger temples in Corea. Here he sits
surrounded by his assessors the Ten Kings 十大王 십대왕
of the nether world, behind whose figures are depicted the
ten several hells over which they respectively hold sway. He
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is one of the most popular Buddhist deities in Japan, where

his name is pronounced Jizo Bosatsu and where he is
represented especially as the kindly patron of departed
children.
(3) Koan-syei-eum Posal 觀世音菩薩 관셰음보살
(Sanskr: Avalokitesvara Bodhisattwa) and
(4) Tai-sei-chi Posal 大勢至菩薩 대셰지보살 (Sanskr:
Mahasthana Prapta Bodhisattwa) The figures of these two
Bodhisattwas will often be found, standing or seated, in
attendance on either hand of Syek-ka-moni Buddha (i.e.
Gautama) or Amida Buddha, over the high altar in the chief
shrine of a Corean Buddhist temple. Not unfrequently they
are crowned. The tangled history of Koan-syei-eum —
famous in China as Kwan-yin and in Japan as Kwan-non,
the so-called “Goddess of Mercy” — would fill a volume in
itself. Appearing first in Southern Buddhism as a male, it is
as a female that this deity has become popular in China and
Japan, although in Corea all specifically feminine traits
appear to be absent.
(5) Moun-sou Posal 文殊菩薩 문슈보살 (Sanskr:
Mandjusri Bodhisattwa) and
(6) Po-hien Posal 普賢菩薩 보현보살 (Sanskr: Samanta
Bhadra Bodhisattwa). The figures of these two Bodhisattwas
— the former sometimes riding on a tiger, the latter on an
elephant — are also fairly constant attendants on the central
Buddha in Corean Buddhist temples, with or instead of the
two just mentioned. [page 34]
There is some reason for thinking that some at least of these
Bodhisattwas were historical personages — early Buddhist missionaries in
China, Nepal and elsewhere, — who have gradually been “canonized” by
popular acclaim. To the more enlightened Buddhist they are
personifications of some of the qualities of Buddha, his pity, his might, his
wisdom and the like.
You will see how largely my paper is introductory to the great
subject with which I want to deal. It is indeed only a porch, and I hope
that subsequent writers, more competent and better equipped than myself,
will introduce us to the building itself, with all its varied interests, and tell
us something in detail of the history and development of Buddhism in the
Corean peninsula. If I have not wholly worn out your patience, may I
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close this paper by indicating one or two lines along which I should like to
see research pursued?
First. I hope that someone may be found to give a connected
history of Buddhism, in Corea from the year 372 A.D. when the monk
Syoun-to 順道 슌도 arrived from China at the court of Ko-kou rye, with
the Buddhist missionary’s usual impedimenta of books and images. Such
a history of the Buddhist Church, after noting its spread from Ko-kou-rye
to Paik-tjyei in A.D. 384 and to Silla in A.D. 528, would trace its fortunes
through the palmy days of the Silla (A.D. 668-925) and Korye (A.D.
935-1392) dynasties, down to the day at the end of the fourteenth century
A.D. when (largely, as it seems, through the fault of some of its leading
representatives) it fell into disfavour with the rise of the Yi dynasty to
power — a disfavour from which it has never recovered except for one
brief period during the reign of King Sei-tjo, 世祖大王 셰조대왕 A.D.
1456-1469. Such a history would moreover have much to tell us not only
of the main outlines of Buddhist history in this country, but also of the
lives of famous missionaries from India and China, who found their way
hither, as well as of natives of the Corean peninsula, who attained to rank
and fame in the Buddhist community. Some at least of the larger temples
in Corea have interesting galleries of portraits of the more famous abbots
who [page 35] have borne rule within their walls, In this connexion it is
worth noting that Mr. Beal, in his introduction to “The Life of Hiuen
Tsang,” quotes from a well-known Chinese book of Buddhist biography
[*The 高僧傳 quoted in Beal’s Life of Hium Tsang. London, 1911, pp.
XXV-XLI.] the names of no less than six inhabitants of Corea, among the
pilgrims who in the latter part of the seventh century A.D. found their way
from China to India, to visit the sacred scenes of Gautama Buddha’s life.
Space too must be found for such a famous trio as Chi-kong,
指空 지공 Mouhak, 無學 무학 and Ra-ong, 懶翁 라옹 whose
portraits you may see in the great monastery of Hoa-chang-sa near
Songdo and in what is left of the even greater temple of Hoi-am-sa
[*檜巖寺회암사 楊州郡양쥬군] in Yang-chu prefecture, some thirty miles
north-east of Seoul. Chi-kong (“he who points to the void”) was a native
of India, who appears to have found his way to Corea as late as the
fourteenth century of our era, while Ra-ong and Mou-hak were
respectively court-chaplains and preceptors to Kong-Min-Oang 恭愍王
공민왕 (A.D. 1352-1388) the last of the Korye kings and Yi Tai-tjo
李太祖 리태조 (A.D. 1392-1399) the founder of the Yi dynasty. And the
tombs (or Pou-tou) raised over the relics (or Sa-ri) of this famous trio may
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still be seen among the striking remains of Hoi-an-sa, above referred to. If
such a line of historical study as I have indicated is to be pursued, I would
plead not only for a careful search in the printed records of the realm, like
the Sam-kouk-sa 三國史 삼국사 and the Tong-kouk t’ong-kam
東國通鑑 동국통감 but also for a study of the many inscribed tablets,
still remaining on the sites of a large number of the older temples in
Corea.
Secondly, there is the literature of Corean Buddhism. Of course
this must be largely the same as the literature of Buddhist China. But it
would be interesting to see which of [page 36] the Buddhist Scriptures have
taken firmest hold of Corea and how far it has been found possible and
useful to translate them into En Moun. M, Courant in his great
Bibliographie Coréenne gives a list of nearly one hundred different
Buddhist books, which to his knowledge have been printed in Corea. But I
myself possess some which do not come in his list, and there must be
many others. My own impression in that a study of the Buddhist books
most in use in Corean temples will reveal the fact that there is very little
of the old literature, common to north and south and to both Greater and
Lesser Vehicles, but that most of it represents an era when the Buddhism
of the north had largely parted company with that of the south and had
become infected with many of the superstitions which had been imported
from Thibet. But I should fancy that “The Lotus of the Good Law”,
妙法蓮華經 묘법련화경 so dear to Nichiren in Japan, and the Amida
and kindred Sutras are the most popular of all.
Thirdly, I should like to see a series of monographs on some of
the most famous monasteries of Chosen, most of which preserve in their
archives some record of their foundation and history. Now that the
Diamond Mountains in Kang-ouen-to 江原道金剛山 강원도금강산
have been rendered so accessible, I suppose we may hope before long to
have detailed and reliable accounts, historical, artistic and topographical,
of the great abbeys of You-Tyem-sa 楡岵寺 유뎜사 Chang-an-sa
長安寺 쟝안사 Ryo-houn-sa 表訓寺 표훈사 and Sin-kyei-sa 新溪寺
신계사, as well as of the lesser shrines by which they are surrounded. But
it is a great mistake to suppose that, when we have exhausted the
Diamond Mountains we have come to the end of all, or even of the most
interesting, of the Buddhist temples of Corea. Not far from Gen San and
from the Diamond Mountains is the great and famous temple of
Syek-oang-sa, in the prefecture of An-pyen 安邊郡釋王寺
안변군셕왕사, while I myself found an almost unworked mine of great
315
historical and artistic interest last summer in Tai-pep-shu-sa,

報恩郡大法住寺 보은군대법쥬사 the great [page 37] temple in the
prefecture of Poeun situated in the famous mountain-range of Syok-ri-san,
which divides Chyoung-chyeng-to from Kyeng-syang-to. But the most
interesting of all are probably to be found in the southern provinces of
Kyeng-syang-to and Chyen-ra-to (Cholla do), which boast among others
the great temple of Poul-kouk-sa 慶州郡佛國寺 경쥬군불국사
(glorious even in its decay, it must have been a dream of beauty in its
pristine splendour) and many another replete with reminiscences of the
old Silla court at Kyeng-chu. Here too further south are the three great
metropolitical abbeys of Buddha, the Law and the Church, namely
Tong-to-sa in Yang-san prefecture 梁山郡通道寺 량산군통도사,
Hai-in-sa in Hap-chyen prefecture 陜川郡海印寺 합쳔군해인사, and
Song-koang-sa in Syun-t’ yen prefecture 順天郡松廣寺 슌쳔군 숑광사.
Tucked away in the hills and valleys close round Seoul must be
some scores of monasteries and nunneries, great and small, all or most of
which could a tale unfold, though the great establishments of military
monks 僧營 숭영 in the hill-fortresses of Pouk-han 北漢山城
북한산셩 and Nam-han 南漢山城 남한산셩 have fallen on evil days,
resulting in the destruction of not a few of the temples with which they
used to be thickly covered. The old island fortress of Kanghwa (some 30
odd miles N.W. of Seoul) still boasts one temple of great historic interest,
Chyen teung-sa, 江華郡傳燈寺 강화군젼등사, but most of the
subsidiary temples have fallen into decay or disappeared altogether. It is a
curious fact that, although Buddhism had been in such disfavour with the
Yi dynasty, it seems always to have been the custom to erect a Buddhist
temple in the neighbourhood of a royal tomb. Such a temple is the
important one of Fong-eun-sa, in Koang-chu prefecture 廣州奉恩寺
광쥬봉은사 (on the opposite side of the Han river to the Seoul
Waterworks at Teuk-syem), near the tomb of King Syeng-chong
成宗大王 셩죵대왕 (A.D. 1470-1495) while an even larger one,
Ryong-chyou-sa, stands about three or four miles south of Syou-ouen
水原郡龍珠寺 슈원군룡쥬사 near the tomb of King Chyeng-tjo
正祖大王 졍조대왕 [page 38] who reigned A.D. 1776-1800. It is
impossible to give here a list of all the Buddhist temples in Corea: but the
publication of such a list — or at least a list of the most famous ones — is
a task that might well be undertaken by our branch of the Royal Asiatic
Society, and would be of real value to the student.
316
Lastly, I would ask for a careful consideration of the architectural

arrangements, and also of the objects of worship, displayed in Corean
temples, as well as of the routine of life followed therein. So far as my
investigations have carried me, the usual arrangement of a temple of fair
size is as follows. Omitting reference to the entrance gates and pavilions,
as well as to the bell and drum towers, the stone pagoda and ornamental
lanterns, there is first and foremost the “Great Chamber,” 大寮 큰방 or
common refectory and dormitory of the great body of the monks — the
abbot (formerly known as Ch’ong-syep, 總攝 총셥 but nowadays as
Chou-chi 住持 쥬지), alone living apart. And adjoining this is the great
monastic kitchen. Generally on the far side of a courtyard at the back of
the “Great Chamber” is the central shrine or Pep-tang 法堂 법당. If its
name board displays the characters for “Temple of supreme bliss”
極樂殿 극락뎐 I am told that you may expect to find the figure of
Amida Buddha occupying the central place over the altar, probably
flanked by figures of Koan-syei-eum Posal and Tai-syei-chi Posal. If on
the other hand the name board bears the inscription “Temple of the Great
Hero,” 大雄殿 대웅뎐 you may expect to fine Syek-ka-moni Buddha
(i.e. Gautama) seated in the middle, flanked either by the two same
Bodhisattwas or by Moun-sou Posal and Po-hien Posal, though
occasionally other Bodhisattwas like Ti-tjang Posal or Mi-ryek Posal are
found in this position. Less frequently you will find Yak-sa Yerai
藥師如來 약사여래 the “healing Buddha” (usually a white figure),
whose place in Buddhism I have never been able satisfactorily to ascertain,
seated in solitary state over the altar of the central Pep-tang. And in one of
the largest temples I have ever seen in Corea, the titanic figures over the
altar represent the mystic [page 39] Buddhist Trinity, Vairochana, Loshana,
and Sakyamuni (referred to above on p. 19). The altar is usually a
handsome piece of panelled wood-work, running nearly the whole length
of the building — the panels in some cases being beautifully carved and
coloured.
Apart from the central shrine, there is nearly always in the larger
temples, a Myeng-pou-tyen 冥府殿 명부뎐 or “Temple of the Nether
World,” devoted to the souls of the departed. Here the kindly Ti-tjang
Posal sits enthroned with his ten assessor judges, whose statues are backed
by blood-curdling pictures, depicting the horrors of the several hells over
which they preside. In the larger temples you will sometimes also find a
special shrine, containing the images of Gautama Buddha’s five hundred
Arhat or disciples 羅漢殿 라햔뎐, with the Master himself seated in the
317
midst. In others not quite so large this secondary shrine will contain only
Gautama Buddha himself and sixteen Arhat. (Curiously in China this
more restricted number is always eighteen). And nearly everywhere, in
temples great and small, you will fine two tiny shrines devoted
respectively to the cult of the Constellation of the Great Bear (the “Seven
stars”) 七星閣 칠셩각 and to the “Spirit of the Hill” 山神 산신 on
which the temple stands, with sometimes a third one to the “Lonely Saint,”
獨聖人 독셩인 who is, as far as I can make out, the Chinese recluse
Chi-kai, 知凱 지개 founder (in the sixth century A.D.) of the famous
T’ien-tai (Japanese Tendai) 天臺 텬대 school of Buddhism, so-called
after his place of retirement, T’ien-tai-san, in the neighbourhood of
Ningpo.
“The picture which confronts the student of Buddhism in Corea
is,” says Mr, Hackmann [*In his interesting work “Buddhism as a Religion,”
published in London 1910.] “on the whole a very dull and faded one.”
Possibly this is true, possibly also the day of Buddhism in Corea is past.
Still sufficient of that past survives into the present day to shew how
powerful it once was and to make its study one of enthralling interest. For
a thousand [page 40] years — from 372 to 1392 A.D. — it exercised an
almost undisputed sway over the inhabitants of this peninsula — a sway
so prolonged and so undisputed that it cannot fail to have left its mark.
The number of its professed adherents may now be comparatively small,
and many of its most famous shrines have fallen into decay. But the
countless solitary stone pagodas and figures of Miryek to be found all
over the country witness to the former wide spread of what must have
been once a very living faith, while there is hardly a mountain in Corea
whose name does not bear testimony to the domination of Buddhist ideas
and phraseology in the older days when the names were fixed. And the
place-names of many a village and hamlet (“Pagoda Village,” “Temple
Valley,” “Township of Buddha’s Glory,” “Hamlet of Buddha’s mercy”
and the like) tell the same tale. Possibly too, in that indefinable charm and
affectionateness of manner which most of those who know them find in
the Corean people, is to be seen an even clearer mark of the past influence
of that great Teacher, who, whatever his faults and shortcomings,
certainly laid supreme stress on gentleness and kindness to others, and of
whom we may say, (with that stout old Christian traveller of the middle
Ages, Marco Polo) “Si fuisset Christianus, fuisset apud Deum maximus
sanctus.”
318
APPENDIX.
VOGABULARY OF SOME OF THE COMMON TERMS USED IN COREAN
BUDDHISM.
Abbot(old title). 총셥 總攝
〃 (present title). 쥬지 住持
Arhat(disciple of
Buddha) 라한 羅漢
Beg for alms, To (of
mendicant monks). 동량하다 乞僧
Bodhisattwa. 보살 菩薩
Buddha (in general). 부쳐 or 불 佛
〃 (Sakyamuni). 셕가모니불 釋迦牟尼佛
〃〃 셕가여래 釋迦如來
〃 (Amida). 아미타불 阿彌陀佛
Buddhism. 불교 or 불도 佛敎 or 佛道
Layman. 쇽인 俗人
Monk (general term). 즁 僧
〃 (polite). 대사 大師
Monastery (general
term). 졀 寺
Monastery (small cell). 암자 庵子
〃 (for women). 숭방 僧房
Nirvana, 녈반 涅槃
Pagoda. 탑 塔
Rosary (of prayerbeads). 념쥬 念珠
Scriptures (Buddhist). 불경 佛經
Temple (place of
worship). 법당 法堂
Temple lands. 불향답 佛享沓
Worship (of Buddha). 불공하다 佛供
〃 념불하다 念佛
〃 재올니다 獻齊
319
320
Volume VIII. 1917.
[page 42]
Corean Coin Charms and Amulets: A Supplement

By Frederick Starr
The literature regarding Corean coin-charms is almost confined

to H. A. Ramsden’s book—Corean Coin Charms and Amulets—printed in
1910. In that work the learned numismatist, whose death is a real loss to
the study of Oriental coins, is practically the pioneer in an interesting but
unknown field. He went earnestly into his subject and described and
figured 207 pieces, some of which are only size varieties. He suggested a
classification of types and his book must be the foundation for all further
study of the subject. The paper here offered must be considered merely as
a supplement to his work, adding to his list new types which he failed to
secure. It will be assumed that the reader is familiar with the Ramsden
book or has it at hand for reference. Most of the new types herein
mentioned are in the collection of the author, the few pieces that are in
other hands are referred to their present owners. Mr. Ramsden reprinted
his book, in brief sections, in the Philatelic and Numismatic Journal, of
which he was editor at the time of his death; in that reprint he added some
types, most of which are described here. As, however, he assigned no
numbers to these and the Journal is exceedingly difficult to find for
reference, we have proceeded as if such announcement had not been made.
We have arranged our new types in the order of classification suggested
by Ramsden and have then numbered them consecutively, beginning with
number 208. In cases where the pieces fit into his classification, we have
mentioned the numbers in Ramsden which these would naturally follow to
facilitate reference and comparison. We do not feel that Ramsden’s
classification was perfect; in fact we think it could easily be improved; but
a new classification [page 43] would require a complete overhauling and
republication of all material. We have therefore made no changes.
Ramsden gives full varietal to size differences, even when slight,
321
Corean Coin Charms and Amulets
assigning independent numbers to each; this seems particularly

undesirable, but even in this we have followed him.
Two hundred and seven of these coins was a very considerable
number and one who knew Ramsden’s diligence as a collector might well
anticipate that the list could not be greatly extended; sixty-six pieces are
however here described and listed. Where these are only new
combinations of designs illustrated by him no attempt is made to figure
the pieces, but a mere statement of the combination in Ramsden’s number
is given. Of new designs, rubbings or photographic illustration and
description are given. In description Ramsden’s formula is regularly
followed. The author confesses to confusion in the use of the terms
obverse and reverse and admits inconsistencies. Sometimes he has felt
that the pictorial side should be considered the obverse in pieces where
there are characters on one side and a pictorial design on the other; this is
surely a justified assumption in those charms, where figures in high relief
occur on one side, while a nearly flat surface occupied by characters
surrounding a simple symbol forms the other. But one who knows the
extreme significance attributed to characters in the Orient may well doubt
whether the pictorial side is the more important one in such a case for
example as No. 256.
Ramsden’s classification was into fifteen classes, as follows:-
(a). Large round coin … … … 1 (1)
(b). Figures and animals in high relief … 2 to 20 (19)
(c). Bats and butterflies … … … 21 〃 41 (21)
(d). Fish shapes … … … … 42 〃 44 (3)
(e). Fan shapes … … … … 45 〃 50 (6)
(f). Weight shapes … … … 51 〃 70 (20)
(g). Octagonal shapes … … … 71 〃 80 (10)
(h). Hexagonal shapes … … … 81 〃 83 (3)
(i). Scallop and star shapes … … 84 〃 104 (21) [page 44]
(j). Pierced or open-work round coins … 105 〃 146 (42)
(k). Round, with pictorial designs … 147 〃 160 (14)
(l). Round with fancy designs … … 161 〃 170 (10)
(m). Round with plain characters … … 171 〃 190 (20)
(n). Round with simple fret-work character 191 〃 197 (7)
(o). Miscellaneous and odd shapes … 198 〃 207 (10)
The number of types listed under each class is given above in
brackets.
322
Perhaps the most interesting of these coin charms are those with
human figures in high relief on one side. They attract the attention of the
most careless observer and present a great and perplexing variety. There
are usually two figures, one of which holds a cup, the other a gourd. Of
these two figures Ramsden says; they “present a difficulty of
identification. Japanese collectors believe them to represent male and
female figures, of man and wife, in relation to the principal object and
purpose to which they are intended. Kainz, on the other hand, although
not specially attributing these charms to Corean origin, says that they
represent the two door-keepers, Yuek and Liu, ‘welche in den Haenden
Vasen halten and gegen boese Machten schuetzen sollen’.” While the
Japanese view is natural and the difference between the objects carried by
the two persons is suggestive, there is no reason to consider these figures
in Corea male and female; they are rather “the heavenly twins,” “the
boys, messengers from heaven,” whose wooden figures form a part of the
outfit used regularly in the wedding ceremony.
These coins with human figures in high relief show perplexing
variation and in the endeavor to give easy identification of any given
specimen I have constructed a little table, which is here reproduced.
Ramsden had nine varieties, I have sixteen; two of his are not in my
collection, so that the table shows eighteen varieties. The number of the
figures and the number of circles, single or double, used in connection
with them are used as a first basis of recognition, while the reverse design
is then noticed. Should collectors find other types, it [page 45] will be easy
for them to check them into the table in their proper places.
TABLE OF CHARM-TYPES WITH HUMAN FIGURES IN HIGH-RELIEF.

I. One figures … …
II. Two figures … …
No circles … …
1 on each side …
2 〃〃〃 ……
3 〃〃〃 ……
5 circles … … …
6 〃 ………
7 〃 ………
8 〃 ………
9 〃 ………
Reverse design.
323
Square-yin yang.
Birds and bats.
Bats.
Yin-yang & characters.
Swastika.
Constellation-square.
Constellation-yin-yang.
Woman.
Plum blossom.
Other.
Those marked O are in my collection; those marked X are in Ramsden
but not owned by the author.
In his translation of characters on the pictorial pieces, notably in

the series of pierced or open-work coins, Ramsden appears to overlook the
fact that famous Chinese poems are either given or implied. His
translations are no doubt adequate for numismatic needs. To know that No.
120 bears the words “sage” and “congratulatory animal” may be sufficient
but what the inscription really conveys is―“Kirin salute when a sage is
born.” Numbers 123 and 126 together make a famous couplet. Ramsden
says: “virtuous woman, charming” (No. 123) and “morally a great man”
and “speak well” (No. 126); better translations of the latter are “morally
great man” and “good partner.” Taken together these give “A charming
virtuous woman is a good partner for a morally great man.” Number 133,
which Ramsden translates “bird ceremony,” “congratulatory animal” are
better translated [page 46] “sage,” “höo salute” and is analogous to No.
120―“höo birds salute when a sage is born.” Number 134, “fish leaps,”
“dragon mounts.” (better “dragon-gate”) becomes in sense “at the dragon
gate the fish leaps,” which is rather easily understood. Number 136, “plum,
bambu, spring rich.” is equivalent to “plum and bambu are the wealth of
the springtime.” There is really a good deal of the poetic in this series of
charms, and one who studies them from the side of art and psychology
will find much of interest.
We may now present our new material. Out of the 66 pieces 55
are our own; one belongs to Edwin Wade Koons of Seoul and ten to
Shioya Kisaburo of Iwakuni, Japan. I am obliged to these gentlemen for
the rubbings illustrating their pieces.
(b).―Figures and animals in high relief.
324
No. 208. Octagonal.

Obverse: Male figure in high relief; background a mesh of lines, which
may be meant for characters. (Plate III. 2)
Reverse: Curious figure of a standing man; made in lines of low relief;
characters at sides.
No. 209.
Obverse: Two figures standing; no circles at side; inner margin of
rim-band serrate; otherwise like No. 5. (Plate III. 4).
Reverse: Square with fortune character; constellation; three stars above,
four below.
No. 210.
Obverse: Same as No. 5. Two figures with circle on each side.
Reverse: Same as No. 18; seal character for good luck at centre; butterflies
above and below, birds at sides. [page 47]
No. 211.
Obverse: Two figures; single circles on each side; seven cup-depressions
in the broad, flat, rim; inner border of this plain, not serrated as in most
similar types. (Plate III. 7).
Reverse: Same as No. 10. Swastika pattern.
No. 212.
Reverse: Square with characters, fortune; three stars above, four below.
No. 213.
Reverse: Same as No. 9. Yin-yang symbol, with three-star constellation
above and below.
No. 214. Like No. 6, but smaller.
No. 215.
Obverse: Two figures; butterfly above, bat (or leaves?) below; cf. No. 6;
two circles on each side and two circular characters. (Plate III. 1).
Reverse: Same as No. 17. Yin-yang symbol, surrounded by characters.
No. 216.
Obverse: Two figures; three circles above and below; double circles at
side. (Plate III. 3.).
Reverse: A slight variation from No. 17. Yin-yang symbol, surrounded by
eight characters.
No. 217.
Obverse: Two figures; eight circles.
Reverse: Plum blossom design.
325
This piece, inserted in the table, with the specimen in hand, has
disappeared; fuller description is therefore impossible. [page 48]
No. 218. With suspension-loop.
Obverse: Butterfly. Same as reverse of No. 5. Larger in size.
Reverse: Swastika pattern. Same as No. 10.
No. 219. Same designs; smaller size; no suspension loop.
Obverse, as the reverse of No. 5; reverse as No. 10.
No. 220.
Obverse: Butterfly, or bee (?).
Reverse: Yin-yang symbol with double circles at sides; clouds above and
below.
No. 221. Narrow, sharply-marked rim.
Obverse: A butterfly, raised, on a flat surface. (Plate III. 9).
Reverse: Within the narrow rim, is a wide ring of the same flat surface;
within, above and below are bats and between them a squared character,
福, blessing; double circles at the sides of this. [page 49]
No. 222. Crenate; with suspension loop.
Obverse: Crane and plum-blossom. (Plate III. 4).
Reverse: As No. 17. Yin-yang symbol and characters.
No. 223. With pierced knob at top for suspension.
Obverse: Two flying cranes, facing different directions.
Reverse: Eight characters, apparently the same as in Ramsden’s No. 92
surrounding an eight pointed central space.
(c).―Bats and Butterflies.
No. 224. With pierced knob at top, for suspension.
Obverse: Two birds in flight and a bat; seven circles, distributed over
space between; rim of two concentric circles. (Plate III. 8).
Reverse: Rim of three concentric circles of differing width; Yin-yang
symbol and seven pittings in a central [page 50] square field; at sides two
concentric circles, with centre-pittings; characters above and below-天地;
heaven, earth. (Cf. No. 2).
No. 225. Crenate. With suspension loop.
Obverse: In upper field two birds and a bat (cf. No. 3); a kirin in lower
field. (Plate III. 10).
Reverse: Same as No. 17; a yin-yang symbol, surrounded by eight
characters.
No. 226. Butterfly-form; outline conventional crenate circle; pierced
circles bring out design and openings mark out legs and thorax; characters
on each side of body, on the middle of wings.
326
Obverse: 壽福; long-life, blessing.

Reverse: 康寧; peace, comfort.
Ramsden’s No. 24, but with openings through.
No. 227. Cf. No. 25; but open-work. Two bats facing; central square hole,
bordered by double line; four characters at each side.
Obverse: 壽福康寧; long-life, blessing, peace, comfort.
Reverse: 富貴多男; many sons, wealth, nobility.
No. 228. Two bats facing; central square hole; four characters on each
side of piece.
Obverse: 五子登科; five sons pass examination.
Reverse: 相輝組綏; shine reciprocally.
Comparable with 26, 27 of Ramsden, but with different detail. [page 51]
No. 229. No doubt derived from a design like No. 36, but no actual
butterflies; centre a five-petalled flower.
Obverse: 九五福康寧; nine, five, fortune, peace, comfort.
Reverse: 八千歲春秋; spring and autumn (i.e. age) eight thousand years.
No. 230. Butterfly, neatly and sharply worked out; square hole in the body;
antennae, open-work. One character on each side of the body.
Obverse: 金鼎; golden vessel (for food).
Reverse: 玉燭; jewel-candle.
No. 231. Butterfly pattern; stamped out; thick; crude work; alike on both
sides. [page 52]
No. 232. Like Ramsden’s 32, but set into a rim as a coin-like piece.
Copper. (Shioya collection).
No. 233. Compare this with the last number; the design is the same but the
horse takes the place on both sides of one character and part two of the
bats. Copper. (Shioya Collection). There is probably a stamped-out brass
or bronze from of this same type in the regular Corean series.
Obverse: 子昌盛; prosperous sons.
Reverse: 壽康寧; long-life, peace, comfort. [page 53]
No. 234. Like Ramsden’s 38, but set into a rim, as a coin-like piece.
(f).-Weight shapes.
No. 235.
Obverse: Characters, one on each side of square hole; four small circles,
one above and one below each character.
Reverse: Similar arrangement, but in small circles.
Like Ramsden’s 62, except for the four circles on obverse.
No. 236. Square characters as each side of square hole.
327
Obverse: 壽福康寧; long-life, blessing, peace, comfort.

Reverse: 富貴多寧; wealth, nobility, full of peace. [page 54]
No. 237.
Obverse: One character on each side of the square hole 壽福; long-life;
fortune.
Reverse: Designs of uncertain significance; a constellation and a gourd?
No. 238. Rather wide, flat, rim; square characters on each side of the
square hole; cup depressions on the horns.
Obverse: 壽福; long-life, blessing.
Reverse: 康寧; peace, comfort.
No. 239.
Obverse: Conventionalized rounded characters, one on each side; small
circle above and below each.
Reverse: Similar arrangement. Characters are un-decipherable. [page 55]
No. 240. Ramsden’s 56 without crenate margin and set in wide-rimmed,
solid, coin-like piece. Copper. (Shioya collection)
No. 241. Compare with Ramsden’s 62. The characters and general plan
are the same; but margin not crenate, and the whole is set into a
wide-rimmed, coin-like piece. Copper. (Shioya collection).
No. 242. Different from any weight-shaped piece in Ramsden or Starr
collection. Set into a wide rimmed, solid, coin-like piece. Copper. (Shioya
collection). [page 56]
Obverse: 壽福; longevity, happiness.
Reverse: 康寧; peace, ease.
(g).-Octagonal Shapes.
No. 243. Octagon; knobbed. Circular hole at centre; characters on both
sides.
Obverse: 孝悌忠信禮義廉耻; loyalty, fidelity, piety, brotherliness,
ceremony, righteousness, integrity, shame.
Reverse: 壽福康寧……… peace, propriety, frugality, long-life,
happiness, . . . . . .
(h).-Hexagonal Shapes.
No. 244. Hexagonal, with knobs at corners; four characters on each side.
Obverse: 忠孝傳家; loyalty, fidelity, for generations.
Reverse: 壽福康寧; nobility, fortune, peace.
No. 245. Same as No.244, but smaller in size. [page 57]
(i).-Scallops and Star Shapes.
No. 246. Two sides alike; characters 太平萬歲; peace through
ten-thousand years. Open-work, stamped out.
328
No. 247. Ramsden’s 92 set into a wide-rimmed, solid, coin-like piece.

No. 248. Pierced near border with three threes of holes and a triple hole at
top, for suspension. Characters in central circular spaces-如意; all to your
desire. [page 58]
No. 249. Crenate circle; circular hole; each division of the crenate outline,
has a shallow disk-pit sunk in it, eight on each side. Thick, crude.
(j).-Pierced or open-work round coins.
No. 250. Open-work coin, A demon rides upon a hoö bird, which is eating
kiri. The two sides are practically the same.
No. 251. Open-work coin. Two hoö birds and clouds. The two sides are
alike. [page 59]
No. 252. Ramsden’s 128, but is solid and set into a wide-rimmed, solid,
coin-like piece. Copper. (Shioya collection).
No. 253. Open-work coin; circular central hole; neat, sharp rims; two
large leaves, one on either side of hole, bear characters.
Obverse: 祥雲滿香; lucky cloud full of fragrance.
Reverse: 和風甘雨; peaceful breeze, sweet rain.
No. 254. Open-work coin; circular central hole; sharp rims; four spaced
plum-blossoms; characters above and below.
Obverse: 寒梅着花; cold, the plum blossoms.
Reverse: 香旺; fragrance gushes forth. [page 60]
(k).-Round with Pictorial designs.
No, 255. Large, thin, open-work coin. Central part is No. 160 of Ramsden;
then comes the open-work zone, and the rather wide rim. [page 61]
Obverse: Mountains, clouds, water, herbage, pine, deer, tortoise, crane.
On central coin, four yin-yang symbols alternate with
characters―壽富多男―many sons, long-life, wealth.
Reverse: Open-work zone much the same. On central coin the
characters-吾君萬年-may our lord live ten thousand years.
No. 256. Large medal, with suspension ring; bold, high work; broad rim.
[page 62] Obverse: Characters grouped, with circles alternating ―
壽富貴男 ― sons, long-life, wealth, nobility.
Reverse: Fret pattern, repeated disconnectedly sixteen times, around
border; two dragons, facing, beads down, with jewels.
No. 257. Large coin-like piece, with an octagonal hole. Has been pierced,
near the rim, with seven perforations, apparently for suspension and to
make it serve as a chatelaine.
329
Obverse: Around central hole a mass of clouds; around this a wide zone
bearing the characters―永言配命自求多福―eternal adapted to fortune,
truth harmonizes with fortune.
Reverse: Mass of clouds around central hole; upon the outer zone the
constellation of Ursa major and waves.
No. 258. Same as No. 154, but larger, and slightly varied details; note tail
of male, and female. [page 63]
Obverse: 鳳儀薰殿; Phoenix appearing salute, fragrance fills palace.
Reverse: Phoenix (hoō birds) fill space around the central hole.
No. 259. Companion piece to preceding.
Obverse: 聖世遊麟; in the age of a sage, kirin come out and play.
Reverse: Two kirin fill the space around the central square.
No. 260. Coin, square-holed; flat, rather wide rim.
Obverse: Characters 龍鳳; dragon, phoenix (hoō).
Reverse: A dragon and phoenix (hoō). [page 64]
No. 261. Round, coin-like; wide rim; square central hole.
Obverse: 壽福康寧; long-life, happiness, health, peace.
Reverse: Figures, one on either side.
No. 262. In delicacy of work and nature of design this reminds of the
open-work numbers 112-133; The rubbing permits little more to be made
out than the flying bird. Because the pattern is markedly different from
any other the cuts are inserted. Wide-rimmed, solid, coin-like piece.
No. 263. Wide-rimmed, solid, coin-like piece. Copper. (Shioya
collection).
[page 65] Obverse: Four characters about central square hole. 五一成節;
five―succeed jointly.
Reverse: Clouds and sun design? Comparable to last, but neither is sharp.
(m). ―Round with Plain characters.
No. 264. Coin-like, but with narrow rim and inner raised line; the central
square hole is also double bordered; of pewter or some lead alloy.
Obverse: 五子登料; five sons passed examination.
Reverse: 連仲三元; may the dynasty continue through thrice a universe.
(Heaven, earth and man)
No. 265. Large, coin-like.
Obverse: 太平安樂; peace, ease, luck.
Reverse: 壽富多男; long-life, wealth, many sons. [page 66]
No. 266. Very like ordinary coinage; wide-rim.
Obverse: 忠孝傳家; loyalty and fidelity, from generation to generation.
330
Reverse: 衣冠維世; garment and crown (position) pass from father to

son.
No. 27. Very like ordinary coinage.
Obverse: 萬壽無疆; ten thousand years of age, no limit.
Reverse: 如岡如陵; like a hill, like a mountain.
(n)-Round, solid, with single concave character.
No. 268. Broad rimmed, coin-like; large character on either side in raised
but hollowed work; loop for suspension. [page 67]
Obverse: 海; sea.
Reverse: 富; wealth.
This may represent a series completely unknown to Ramsden.
Also without loop.
No. 269. Broad-rimmed, coin-like; large character on either side, in raised
but hollowed work; loop for suspension.
Obverse: 多; many.
Reverse: 男; sons.
(o).-Miscellaneous and odd Shapes.
No. 270. Stamped out; the two boys; no inscription. The two sides differ
strikingly in the support or lower part. (Koons collection.)
No. 271. Two jewel-symbols crossing. (Cf. No. 205). [page 68]
No. 272. Sharply stamped-out piece; pouch-shaped; alike on the two sides;
bears conventionalized characters-壽; long-life. 福; happiness.
No. 273. Open-work piece; thick; poor work.
Obverse: Has four pit depressions in the round knob.
Reverse: Flat, without pitting.
The pieces in Mr. Shioya’s collection give rise to some curious
questions. He has perhaps eighteen or twenty specimens of which all but
ten (number 231, 232, 233, 239, 240, 241, 246, 251, 261, 262) which are
here illustrated and described are included in Ramsden and are identical
with Corean specimens in size, type and inscription, but are made of
copper. Those here illustrated are fundamentally the same as Ramsden’s
specimens, — except 232, 241, 261 and 262 — but are included in
coin-rims and are solid, like coins; these also are all of copper, not of
brass or bronze like the Corean specimens. All of them are from Formosa
and were collected there by Mr. Shioya personally; he was much surprised
when I attributed a Corean origin to them. In his collection there was also
one of the elaborate chatelaines, identical with No. G. 8, of my
classification. An independent origin in Corea and Formosa is quite
impossible: such identity of types, inscriptions, and combinations of
331
unrelated elements is not to be expected. Where did these things originate?

Are they Formosan, introduced from there into Corea, or were they
introduced into Formosa from Corea? When and how, and [page 69] why,
were they introduced from one to the other? Which is the probable older
idea — pieces stamped out in weight-shaped, crenate, or butterfly-like
forms, or similar patterns and shapes included in rims and made in
coin-like form? In other words which is more primitive and natural, the
Corean or the Formosan type? There is another alternative, theoretically
possible and very simple and immediate. Might the types have been
developed in China, fully fixed and conventionalized, and then transferred
to Corea and Formosa, both of which have indeed looked to China as a
teacher? Chinese numismatics is a long-established science; Chinese coins,
coin charms and amulets are well known. Ramsden himself, had perhaps
the finest collection of Chinese coins in foreign hands — it is
inconceivable that a Chinese series of this kind, parent of the Corean and
Formosan, could have been overlooked.
When we come to study the chatelaines in detail we shall find
that the chatelaines of class G — “combinations of coin charms” are
usually composed of elements which are identical with the coin-charms
described and figured by Ramsden. Occasionally in these chatelaine
combinations we find elements not yet known as independent pieces. We
believe that we are justified in all such cases in assuming that these
actually do exist as coin charms and might be added to the list. We have
not added them, but the studious reader will easily pick out such here and
there and will have no difficulty in locating them in their proper place in
the classification.
To us, who approach this entire subject more from the
ethnographic than the numismatic viewpoint, the chatelaines to which
these coin-charms are attached are quite as interesting as the coin-charms
themselves. Ramsden only hints at their variety and illustrates but a
half-dozen types representing several different classes. We have made a
considerable collection and have thought it worth while to go into some
study of them (a) because they represent a special art; (b) because they
exhibit an exuberance of fancy and imagination; (c) because some of them,
for one reason or another, call for special comment; [page 70] and (d)
because with a great series before us, we can suggest a classification and
point out types and groups. These chatelaines form the basis or backing
for an elaborate and complicated mass of ornament and symbolism. To
them are attached streamers of ribbon upon which these coin charms are
332
threaded; the ribbons are of different colors and the coin charms or coins
— for sometimes true coins are also used — vary in size and form. A well
made example may carry scores of coin charms upon a dozen or more
ribbons. Such objects are called by the Corean name of yurl-shoi-pai and
were given to brides or were constructed by them from coin charms,
gathered and hoarded for the purpose. The chatelaine backs are liberally
furnished with metal rings, to which the keys of the young housekeeper
were suspended. The form, bulk and weight of these things must have
seriously interfered with their convenient use as key-carriers, but the good
luck influences from the coin charms with their favorable symbols and
auspicious inscriptions no doubt more than compensated. (Plate I.)
While Ramsden attempted to exhaust the subject of the coin
charms themselves he did not do the same by the chatelaines. He pictures
but six examples, selecting them to illustrate a few classes. He recognized
four groups: (a) the happy couple; (b) the long life character; (c) open
work designs in great variety; (d) a mass of coin charms. Of these he
considered (a) and (b) the older. This classification is entirely inadequate
and we venture to propose a new arrangement. We assign letters to the
classes or groups and numbers independently under each, so as to permit
of locating new types readily in the scheme.
Proposed Classification of Chatelaines.

A. Solid; crenate; with two figures, good-luck character and
crane. Ramsden’s No. 20, or a variant of it.
B. Solid; demon-head at top; with two figures and central
character. [page 71]
(a) With evenly rounded border.
(b) With crenate border.
C. Heavy, solid work; high relief; alike on the two sides.
D. Open work: dragon patterns.
E. Central character; heavy and firm, but with some open-work;
foliate or floriate decoration.
F. Fragile, floriate or foliate, open-work; with or with-out central
character and dragon elements.
G. Combinations of coin charms.
(a) Frail forms, related to preceding group.
(b) With enclosing fret-work border.
(c) With simple border, or none at all-resolving itself into a
simples mass of attached coin charms.
333
H. A single, simple piece, like a coin charm.

(a) Round-solid, or open-work.
(b) Octagonal.
(c) Of fancy form; as the butterfly-Ramsden’s No. 22.
I. Solid; heavy; sharply stamped; pouch or gourd forms.
We will now pass to the detailed description of types under these
groups.
A. The chatelaine is Ramsden’s 20, or a variant. We believe this
is always a chatelaine or carrier (Plate II.) and never a coin charm as
Ramsden thinks. The varieties it presents are shown in Plate IV. We shall
call the side that bears the two figures the obverse. We have seen five
obverses and three reverses.
1. Obverse: flying cranes, facing in opposite directions, above
and below the conventionalized character for long life; at right and left the
two figures; in spaces two double circles and two marks of uncertain
meaning. Reverse: a flower-like device, which stamped out becomes
Ramsden’s No. 17-with eight characters. (Plate II. Plate IV. 5).
2. Obverse: a flying crane above, a bat below, the
conventionalized character for long life; at right and left the two [page 72]
figures; in spaces between character and figures are two double circles on
each side. Reverse: as last. (Plate IV. 1, 5).
3. Obverse: a flying crane above, a bat below, the
conventionalized character for long life; at right and left the two figures;
outside these a double circle on each side; in spaces around the central
character four single circles. Reverse: as last. (Plate IV. 2, 5).
4. Obverse: a flying crane above, a flower (or cloud pattern)
below, the conventionalized character for long life; the two figures at the
sides; outside of them a double circle on either side. Reverse: two dragons,
one above, the other below, the conventionalized character for long life.
(Plate IV. 3, 6).
5. Obverse: a flying crane above, a cloud pattern below, the
conventionalized character for long life; the two figures at the sides.
Reverse: two dragons; one above, the other below, the conventionalized
character for long life. (Plate IV 4, 7).
B. Solid; with demon-head at top. Two clearly marked
subdivisions — (a) with evenly rounded margin; (b) with crenate, or more
or less irregular, margin.
(a) 1. Obverse: two figures at the sides of the conventionalized
character for long life; in the spaces between — above, a double circle,
334
below, a cupule; around are five flying bats. Reverse: a dragon around a
cloud pattern; plum blossom above; a flight of ten birds around; with nine
characters between 壽福康寧富貴多男子 — meaning long life, blessing,
strength, peace, wealth, honor, many sons. (Plate V. 1, 3).
2. Obverse: the same as preceding. Reverse: Corean dog with
flower; double circles and trio of small circles in triangle; a flight of seven
birds around; also the nine characters as in preceding and some
interspersed decoration. (Plate V. 1, 4).
3. Obverse: the two figures at sides of conventionalized character
for long life closely surrounded by dots; outside of them double circles on
each side; flight of five bats around. [page 73]
Reverse: plum blossom design; surface around sprinkled with plum
blossoms made of dots; double circle above; the nine character of the
preceding designs. (Plate V. 2, 5).
(b) 1. Obverse: great character for long life; two double circles
and four cupules symmetrically around it; the two figures in pairs on
either side; outside these a double circle on each side; around are eight
kirin. Reverse: a broad rimmed octagon, with plum blossom at centre and
the eight characters around, meaning-“One accomplishment leaves merit,
amassing money is not treasure”; around all is a flight of five bats, (Plate
VI. 1, 3).
This exists also in slightly coarser reverse.
2. Obverse: great character for long life; four cloud symbols;
around are eight kirin. Reverse: same as preceding. (Plate VI. 2, 3).
3. Obverse: great character, 黃金萬, “yellow gold ten thousand,”
two flying birds; figures of old man and woman; a butterfly below.
Reverse: great character 寶進招, “treasure calls,”; around on each side a
flying bird, a butterfly, bhotan, bambu; at bottom, a bat. (Plate VI. 4, 5).
C. Heavy, solid work; while at first sight suggesting B. b. it
really differs in every detail. Two sides alike. At the centre is the highly
conventionalized character for “joy”; surrounded by a complicated pattern
composed of four or more butterflies. (Plate VII. 1.)
D. Open-Work; dragon designs.
1. Two finely executed dragon figures, symmetrically facing, in
clouds. Obverse: raised, convex work' finely detailed. Reverse: hollowed,
concave work; with characters 福主之昊太而身達虹赤喜蒼龍據
腹而文皇之兆祥 “when blue dragon writhes, many good omens appear
as in the days of Munwhang; when red rainbow encircles the body,
immense wealth grows up as in the period of Taiho.” (Plate VII. 2, 3.).
335
2. Largest of all the chatelaines in my collection, measuring over

9×6 inches. (The full-size rubbing is reproduced [page 74] in the folding
plate I). In a frame composed of two dragons facing, are ten large
coin-like charms; the two sides are practically alike save for the characters
on the coins.
3. Octagonal frame; two dragons within; cloud above and
mountain below a central plaque upon which are punctate characters
康寧, “strength, peace.” Alike on two sides. Yellow brass. (Plate VII. 4).
E. Central character; heavy and firm, but with some open work;
foliate or floriate decoration.
1. Obverse: Available space divided into upper and lower panels;
on the lower is the character for long life; on the upper, a plant in bloom.
Reverse: on the lower panel is the conventionalized character for long life;
on the upper, a plant design. (Plate VIII. 1, 2).
2. Obverse: Much like preceding, but the two figures stand at the
sides of the character and small details vary. Reverse: The character is less
compact and is composed of coarser lines. The entire piece is smaller, but
gives the impression of shortness with relatively greater breadth. (Plate
VIII. 3, 4).
F. Fragile, poor material; open-work, foliate and floriate designs;
two sides alike.
1. Central character for high, surrounded by a mass of foliate and
floriate open-work. (Plate VIII. 5.)
2. Flower-like design, surrounded by mass of foliate open-work.
(Plate VIII. 6).
3. Mass of foliate and floriate open-work, guarded at sides by
dragons facing inward. (Plate VIII. 7).
G. Combinations of coin charms.
This group is the most varied of all and ranges from well-made
attractive forms to pieces of loose workmanship, ricketty and almost
repellant. It may be roughly subdivided into lesser groups, but these
scarcely deserve independent numbering. We may recognize (a) frail
forms, somewhat like the last group; (b) forms with an enclosing border of
fret-work; [page 75] (c) forms with a simple border or none at all ―
becoming indeed mere masses of attached coin charms.
1. Central part made up of nine charms ― butterfly, coin-like,
and open-work―all described in Ramsden; surrounded by a somewhat
squarish, double, frame of foliate open-work, ending above in two
dragons. (Plate IX. 1).
336
2. Central part composed of eight butterfly, coin-like and

stamped out charms, most of them given in Ramsden; double border of
foliate and dragon design open-work. (Plate IX. 2). Notice the curious
stamped out design above the butterflies; it is not yet known as an
independent piece.
3. Central part composed of nine butterfly, coin-like and
open-work charms, all given in Ramsden; simple border of foliate and
dragon open-work. (Plate IX. 3). While we constantly mention this work,
here and in group F as “foliate” the dragon-idea is usually present in the
foliation and in the present case we believe both bats and butterflies are
suggested in this foliate border. In other words, we here have to do with
undoubtedly ancient decorative designs, which have become
conventionalized and broken down to the degree that the original ideas are
almost or quite forgotten.
4. More or less fan-shaped mass of coin-charms, thirteen in
number and all given in Ramsden. At the centre is a large open-work
coin-like piece; to it are loosely attached, by ugly connecting strips,
coin-like, fan, butterfly, and weight charms; a handle is added. (Plate X.
1). This piece is a sample of the least attractive of all the chatelaines; the
material is poor and rotten, breaking easily; the casting is badly done. Two
specimens of this class, differing in the component charms, are here
shown; others have been seen, one being larger than any here shown.
5. Of same general character as the last, but with different
component elements; without handle. (Plate X. 2).
6. In this neat and attractive specimen, we pass to the second
subdivision suggested above ― those with a border of fret-work. Yet in
some respects it is related to the two unattractive [page 76] and badly-made
chatelaines just described. It too is fan-shaped, made up of known
elements; but these are in direct contact, well cast, from sharp originals, in
good material. All the elements are known as independent charms except
the four small round bits bearing characters, which surround the upper
butterfly; these seem to be parts of our No. 245. (Plate X. 3). The
fret-work frame in this and the four following specimens is open-work.
7. General form somewhat fan-shaped. Centre a mass of nineteen
coin-like, open-work, fan and butterfly charms; also the four small round
bits above mentioned; surrounded by a fret-work frame and surmounted
by dragons. Here are combined the fan-shape of the last three specimens
and the foliate-dragon open-work idea. The type differs from the other
337
fret-work frames in having no protecting outer rim. (Plate XI. 1). The
sides differ.
8. Centre, a group of nine rather large coin-charms, al in
Ramsden; surrounded by a horse-shoe shaped frame of fret-work, with an
outer protecting rim and surmounted by the foliate-dragon open-work.
(Plate XI. 2).
9. General form rectangular; at centre is the great character for
joy; surrounded by a frame of fret-work with outer protecting rim;
surmounted by a group of charms — butterfly, coin-like, small round bits
with characters — and foliate work. (Plate XI. 3).
10. General form rectangular. Group of twenty-one coin-like, one
stamped-out, and two butterfly charms; frame of fret-work with protecting
rim; surmounted by foliate-dragon work. (Plate XI. 4).
11. General form octagonal. Border, a narrow solid frame with
fret deign; within this the fundamental design is a tray vessel with a
growing plant; above is the character for joy; scattered about, among the
branches of the tree are nine coin-charms. (Plate XII. 1).
12. Fan-shaped. Nineteen coin charms, grouped closely [page 77]
in a circular arrangement; all within a plain, narrow, solid rim. (Plate XII.
2).
13. Circular. Around a central open-work coin charm (our No.
245) are grouped nine charms of Ramsden’s group (n) - Round with single
fret-work character. All are enclosed by a narrow, solid rim. In Ramsden’s
work but seven specimens of this group are given; in this chatelaine there
are nine. The two not in Ramsden’s list are 康 and 貴;-“ease” and
“nobility.” (Plate XII. 3).
14. Around a central coin charm are grouped a circle of nine, all
of which are in Ramsden: there is no outer frame or rim of any sort. (Plate
XII. 4).
15. Somewhat rectangular frame of foliate- floriate- bat- butterfly
-dragon design; within are twelve coin-like charms; above there are three
butterfly charms. The two sides are practically alike, differing only in the
characters on the charms. (The full-sized rubbing is reproduced in
folding-plate II.)
H. a single, simple, piece; like a coin charm, but intended for a
chatelaine carrier, not for suspension to one.
1. Large, round, coin-like charm, with some openings through;
alike on the two sides; pierced, for carrying pendents, by three holes
below; for suspension loop, by two above. Around a central design, that of
338
Ramsden’s No. 160, a broad zone is occupied by pictorial elements —

mountains, waves flying cranes, pine trees, kirim etc. (Plate XIII. 1).
2. Octagonal; heavy; thick and solidly made; suspension
projection above. Obverse: characters 壹藝遺業積金非寶, “one
accomplishment, leaves merit; amassing money is not treasure.” Reverse;
characters 忠孝傳家詩書敎子, “Teach family fidelity and obedience;
give next generation knowledge and culture.” (Plate XIII. 2, 3).
3. Ramsden’s butterfly charm, No. 22, should be here; it is
primarily a chatelaine, although often hung with coin charms upon one.
I. Solid, heavy, sharply-stamped pieces; gourd or pouch-shaped,
or with gourd or pouch as an essential element. [page 78]
1. Gourd-shaped. Obverse: two cranes and rushes; fungus (or kiri)
above; characters 瑤山; Yö-san. Reverse: chiefly occupied by flower
sprays; above, a pong (hōo) bird in flight with cloud. (Plate XIII. 4, 5).
2. Pouch, drawn together at top. Obverse: characters 壽福,
long-life, fortune. Reverse: the doubled character for joy 喜. (Plate XIV.
1, 2).
3. Pouch, somewhat constricted, or a vessel for storage; Obverse:
the conventionalized character for long life, surrounded by graceful plant
designs. Reverse: surface completely covered with plant designs. (Plate
XIV. 3, 4).
4. Similar pouch-form the main element. Obverse: a gate-way,
below which is a cartouche-like space bearing seal character; below this is
a line of Corean characters, 부모은쳔엽수; Pumo un chun yung su.
Reverse: a butterfly and octagonal coin-charms and two small bits with
characters, all being enclosed and protected by a narrow semicircular
border or frame. (Plate XIV. 5, 6).
We have thus brought together, described and figured forty-three
chatelaines. A few others are known to us but are not in our collection; a
few others are likely to turn up. They form a group of art objects upon
which the old Corean fancy was exuberantly lavished. They deserve to be
known and will repay careful examination. They are particularly
interesting as showing how forms and decorations are related and pass
into one another; they are richly symbolical; they admirably illustrate the
process of conventionalization and the loss of knowledge of the origin of
traditional patterns.
List of Plates.
339
I. Chatelaine with ribbons and coin charms, showing way in

which they were used.
II. Mass of ribbons and charms attached to chatelaine; to show
that Ramsden’s No. 20 is truly a chatelaine and not a coin-charm.
III. Coin charms with high relief designs. [page 79]
IV. Chatelaines: Class A.
V. 〃〃 B,
VI. 〃〃 B.
VII. 〃〃 C. D.
VIII. 〃〃 E. F.
IX. 〃〃 G.
X. 〃〃 G.
XI. 〃〃 G.
XII. 〃〃 G.
XIII. 〃〃 H. I.
XIV. 〃〃 I.
340

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Discovering Korea

at the Start of the Twentieth

Articles from the first volumes

Edited by Brother Anthony of Taizé

1. The origins of the Royal Asiatic Society Korea Branch

articles of varying length about many aspects of Korea, a country which

2. Homer B. Hulbert and the historical context before 1900

The authors of the papers published in the first volumes of

everyone needs) was published first in Hangul in 1889 before being

On October 8, 1895, Queen Min was assassinated by the

The Korean Repository ceased publication in December, 1898.

acclaimed by a large crowd. Exhausted by the journey, he died a week

4. James Scarth Gale

Hulbert’s twenty-one years in Korea were spent in intense

published Korean Grammatical Forms at the Trilingual Press and in 1895

5. The revival of the RASKB

The tragic death by drowning of H. G. Appenzeller in June 1902,

6. Mark Napier Trollope

If the RASKB remained active from its new beginning in 1911

7. The Underwood family

One of the most familiar names among the Protestant

their house by communists in 1949. He was in the US when the Korean

8. The other authors of papers

Regarding the papers reprinted in this volume, it may be said that

Trollope’s first contribution, on the antique monuments of Ganghwa

The life, culture and antiquities of Korea have never been a

Sources and additional reading

A biography of Homer B. Hulbert can be found on pages ED 23-62 of the

For a full biography of Bishop Trollope see:

For the biography of James Scarth Gale see:

An outline chronology of James Gale’s life can be found in the guide to

William Elliot Griffis, A Modern Pioneer in Korea: the Life Story of

The Influence of China upon Korea.

(吏套), as explained in the Korean Repository of February, 1898, by Mr.

Confucian classic Spring and Autumn, where earthquakes, comets,

the fifth moon.”

As mentioned before, the great period of influence closes with

Tong-mong-sŭn-seup, by a Korean author. It begins at once with the Five

“The Calendar was constructed by Yung-sung, who lived 2780

A paragraph follows these lists which shows how precious in the

We had the pleasure a short time since of listening to an able presentation

unwelcome visitors, for they were immediately deported to the eastern

no slaving way. They attached Korean endings to the Chinese words,

answer that it is to his primitive and inborn fetichism or to that form of

a superficial one. Korea had been overawed by the prestige of Chinese

acquainted with Chinese civilization to merit such a title — unless he purchased

Inscription on Buddha at Eun-jin

Looking back to ancient times we find that in the year Eul-sa,

Here came the officials of the government reverently praying

Korea’s Colossal Image of Buddha.

the pagoda monument of Seoul — a beautiful specimen of carved marble

(1) THE JOURNEY.

This colossal image is erected in the prefecture Eun-jin, in the

(2) HISTORY OF THE LOCALITY.

At Kang-gyŭngi we are in the prefecture of Eun-jin in which the

How appropriate then that in a region so rich in Buddhistic

(3) THE MONASTERY.

The colossal Buddha is at Kwang-ch’ok-sa, the Monastery of the

(4) DESCRIPTION OF THE IDOL.

Outside the main building of the monastery, on a level earth