LIFE IN SEOUL
After accepting Marquis Ito’s formal invitation to attempt a special
kind of service in Korea, the first problem to be solved concerned
the choice of ways for approaching that service. Its solution was by
no means obvious. In Japan there were more of urgent requests for
public addresses and lectures of various kinds than could possibly be
accepted. And everywhere that the speaker went, influential and large
organizations of an educational and public character, to whose support
the governors, of the Kens and the mayors of the cities were officially
committed, could be relied upon to make all necessary arrangements and
to carry the arrangements through effectively. More important still,
there was the most eager interest in the subjects upon which the
prospective audiences wished to be addressed, and the attitude of an
open mind and even of warm personal attachment toward “the friend of
Japan.” In Korea, however, all the influences would be of precisely the
opposite character—indifference, deficiencies, hindrances, if not active
opposition, so far as the native attitude was concerned. In Korea there
were no educational associations; and, outside of a very small circle in
a few cities, there was little or no interest in education. The local
magistrates were, almost without exception, devoted to “squeezes” rather
than to the increase of intelligence and the moral improvement of their
districts. The teachers of the few existing schools were, in general,
without any modern culture; they were even without the most rudimentary
ideas on the subjects of pedagogy, ethics, and religion. Only in a small
number of places were there any halls that could accommodate an audience,
should one be gathered by an appeal to curiosity and to the Korean thirst
for “look-see”; while to be known as a “friend of Japan” and a guest of
Marquis Ito was to erect an almost insuperable obstacle in the way of
reaching the ears of the Korean upper and middle classes, to say nothing
of convincing their minds or touching their hearts. Addressing the lower
classes on any scholastic topic was impossible. Through what organ, then,
could a stranger help the Resident-General in his benevolent plans for
the welfare of the people of Korea?
Reflection upon this problem of a means of approach to the Koreans ended
in the fortunate choice of the Young Men’s Christian Association at
Seoul. To be sure, the direct influence of this association is at present
wisely limited to the capital city. The illicit organization of branch
associations, which was undertaken for political purposes by the Koreans
themselves, has made it necessary to check, rather than encourage, all
efforts to multiply Y. M. C. A. societies in places beyond the immediate
and unceasingly watchful control of the foreign secretaries. The same
hypocritical and unscrupulous use of the name of religion for purposes
of political intrigue compelled the Methodist Mission in Korea to break
up the “Epworth League.” A letter to a friend in Tokyo, explaining my
purposes and my embarrassment, resulted in the following telegram, which
was received in Shimonoseki late in the evening of the day before sailing
for Fusan:
Secretary Seoul telegraphs Seoul Association platform gladly
open. Indications other cities will extend same courtesy,
especially after tenth.
These words illumined to no small degree the prospect of establishing
relations favorable to the success of the proposed plans.
In this connection it is pertinent to say that I had been advised to seek
especially the counsel and assistance of Bishop Turner of the Church of
England, and of the Korean, Mr. Yun Chi-ho. The Bishop was the president
of the Young Men’s Association; and the Korean gentleman is of good
family, has a well-merited reputation for honesty, and has been prominent
in religious work among his own people. As the history of my experiences
will show, I was disappointed with respect to both these sources of
information and help. Bishop Turner was either absent or ill during
nearly the entire time of my stay in Korea; and Mr. Yun Chi-ho exhibited
so persistently and adroitly the qualities which I had heard described
as “a pessimistic disposition,” and which in the opinion of all who knew
him, both natives and foreigners, unfitted him for incurring any of the
responsibilities of leadership, as to somewhat hamper rather than assist
any efforts in behalf of his own people. It was not, of course, to be
expected that a Korean Yang-ban should willingly confess the demonstrated
incapacity of the Korean nation for self-government; even less, perhaps,
that he should himself assist the Japanese in doing for his own people
what they never have done, and never could do, for themselves. But
that intelligent native Christians should take an attitude of passive
opposition to offers of assistance on matters of education, morality and
religion from a friendly foreigner of another nation, simply because
that foreigner was the guest of the Japanese Resident-General, shows
how characteristic and deep-seated are the obstacles which the official
class are opposing to the redemption of Korea. But I was to witness
the manifestation of the extreme form of the same feeling toward the
association of those of their own countrymen who were co-operating with
the Japanese in plans for reform.
The morning after our arrival in Seoul, at about 10.30 o’clock, Marquis
Ito sent Mr. Zumoto to conduct me to his private office in the Residency
House. The official residence is one of a group of buildings belonging
to the Japanese Government and situated upon a succession of spurs from
the mountain Nam-san, in a portion of the city which lies beyond the
Japanese quarters. The surrounding grounds, especially from points above
the house, command fine views of the city, and are being constantly
improved and beautified in accordance with Japanese taste. So lonely are
the mountainous heights above the grounds that numerous wild-cats have
descended upon the chicken-yard of the Residency, and more than a dozen
of these pests have been caught in traps and are now caged as part of a
small menagerie or private “Zoo.” There are persons now living in Seoul,
not of advanced age, who have encountered tigers of the “man-eating”
species, to say nothing of less formidable wild beasts, such as leopards
and foxes, within the city walls.
At this morning’s interview the Marquis was the first to speak, after a
few minutes of silence which followed the exchange of greetings. But it
was only to say that, of course, he could procure me invitations from
the Japanese to give public addresses, and even, he presumed, from the
Koreans; this, however—especially in the latter case—would probably
embarrass my work, since it would subject it to suspicion. After these
words he paused in a way to suggest an invitation for me to speak freely
of my plans. I began by saying that I had no training or experience in
matters of diplomacy; but I believed that, for me at least, the best
course of action would conform to these two rules: to be entirely frank
and good-tempered when you had anything to say; and to know when and how
to hold your tongue if silence seemed the proper policy. At this the
Marquis laughed—it seemed approvingly. In brief, the plans, as far as
formed at present, were as follows. As to _Mission_:—Public: I was here
as the guest of Marquis Ito, to speak to the Koreans in a sincerely
friendly way, on matters of education, morals, and religion, especially
as these matters concerned their national welfare; private: to discover
what I could which might assist the Resident-General in dealing with
his difficult problem and to assure all, whom I could reach, that he
sincerely wished to serve the real interests of the Koreans and to secure
for them the administration of justice and an increased prosperity. As
to _Message_:—Public: that the real prosperity of the individual and of
society can be secured only by developing a character which deserves
it; and private, as already defined by the private mission. As to
_Means_:—Since there are in Korea no Teachers’ Associations, I hoped
to work through the Young Men’s Christian Association and through such
other connected agencies as they might secure; and especially to get
opportunities to address Missionary Schools and Christian congregations
in the churches. I also hoped to form friendly relations with the
missionaries and with some of the diplomats and foreign business men
in order to learn their views of the situation and to gain from them
information and suggestions for its improvement. Especially did it seem
to me desirable that the spiritual forces wielded by the missionaries
should co-operate for the good of Korea with the political forces wielded
by the Resident-General.
At this first interview, as at all subsequent interviews during my stay
in Korea, the Resident-General uniformly replied in the negative to every
request for criticism of my plans, or even for suggestions as to their
improvement. On one particular occasion when I ventured to repeat the
question: “But has the Marquis no suggestions to make?” the same answer,
“No, I have no suggestions to offer,” was returned. When I afterwards
asked the only third person who was ever present at any of these
interviews whether after my departure some comments had not been made
which might assist in deciding upon the best course of action, the reply
again was an unqualified negative. And upon surprise being expressed at
this, the remark followed: “It is the custom of the Marquis, when he
trusts any one, to trust him completely.” And, indeed, the promise to
leave me absolutely independent, which had been made in private and which
was soon made public, was, throughout, most strictly kept.
The same day, after tiffin, one of the under-secretaries of the Y. M.
C. A., in the absence of Mr. Gillett, the Chief Secretary, called upon
me for the discussion of plans and topics for the lectures in Korea.
It then became evident that the manner of coming would, as had been
suspected, prejudice the Koreans against the speaker and his words.
Secretary Brockman, indeed, agreed with me in thinking that a large
measure of frankness was desirable. But the Korean officers and members
of the Association were timid. It appeared that the _Korean Daily
News_ had already reminded its readers, with a sinister warning, that
Professor Ladd did not come from America, but from Tokyo, to Korea. The
effect of this, with all it implied, will soon appear. Any more definite
decision as to ways of procedure was, therefore, deferred until further
consultation could be had with those chiefly interested in the affairs of
the Association and the moral and religious welfare of the Korean people.
The next morning a committee of three, representing the Association
and the two principal Missions doing work in Seoul, called, and two
hours of friendly discussion followed over the wisest method of solving
this problem: How to employ the _American_ guest of the _Japanese_
Resident-General as a teacher of education, morals, and religion, under
existing conditions, to _Korean_ audiences. A complex problem truly! From
the first, the lecturer himself insisted upon a continuance of the open
and frank policy of approach; any attempt at concealment of his relations
to Marquis Ito and of his confidence in the Marquis’ plans for helping
Korea would only result in an increase of prejudice, suspicion, and in
other invitations to failure. It was during the course of this discussion
that one of the missionary members of the committee frankly declared his
continued unwillingness, previously expressed, to have anything to do
with a plan for “smoothing the way” for the Japanese. In case this was
Professor Ladd’s purpose, “let him go ahead and smooth the way, if he
could; for his own part he wished to be counted out.” The conference,
however, ended in the harmonious agreement that three lectures should
be given within the next week, under the auspices of the Young Men’s
Association. These were to have dates as follows; for the next Saturday
evening, upon the subject, “Education and the Social Welfare”; for Sunday
afternoon, upon the subject, “Religion and Social Reform”; and for Monday
evening, upon “Education as Related to the Stability and Progress of the
Nation.” It was originally intended that the address of Sunday should
be given in “Independence Hall,” the largest public room in Seoul,
which, however, stands outside of the city walls near “Independence
Arch”—a structure erected to commemorate the formal renunciation of
the suzerainty of China. The other lectures were to be given in the
Association Hall, a temporary building of bare boards, situated in a more
central location. Application, however, for the use of Independence Hall
was met by the information that it was already engaged for next Sunday.
It was then suspected that this was only an indirect and insincere method
of refusal; I am not even now sure as to whether or not the suspicion was
correct.
On the next day a cordial invitation came from the missionaries of both
missions in Pyeng-yang to visit them and speak there as many times as
I might be able. The narrative of this interesting visit is to be told
elsewhere. But the difference between the attitude of the Koreans toward
me in places outside of the capital, where the corruption, fears, and
prejudices of the Yang-bans (or ruling class) are less dominant—although
some of these places have really suffered more from the Japanese than has
Seoul—shows in what motives and interests the anti-Japanese feeling is
chiefly seated. It is in Seoul, especially, that many of the missionaries
seem not to have kept themselves altogether free from the same unworthy
Court influences.
It was on Saturday, March 30, at 3.30 P.M., according to a notice sent
the day before, that I was received in audience by the Korean Emperor.
Under the escort of the Marquis’ secretary, Mr. Kurachi, and a Korean
_aide-de-camp_, I went in a jinrikisha to the small gate of the palace
which is very near to Miss Sontag’s house, and dismounting there, passed
through rather irregular and intermittent lines of palace guards to
the building where the audience was to take place. The rooms used for
such functions, while the new palace is still in process of erection,
are far enough from anything approaching royal magnificence. The aspect
and furnishings of the entrance hall would scarcely rival a third-class
hotel in Europe or the United States. The same thing is true of the
waiting-room and of the audience-chamber itself. On arrival I was shown
into the former apartment, where were already gathered some of the
prominent Korean officials, including the Prime Minister, the Master
of Ceremonies, and several officers of high rank in the Korean army.
The entrance of Marquis Ito with his suite soon after filled the small
room with men whose gorgeous apparel contrasted strongly with the cheap
woodwork, which was painted light-pink and trimmed in light-green; and
with its tawdry European furnishings. Almost immediately the little
Prince, son of Lady Om, entered, and with an amusing air of boyish
dignity, made more effective by the mannish costume of topknot and
crinoline hat with which he had recently been invested, came straight up
to me and gravely held out his hand. The young Prince has bright eyes, an
intelligent but almost completely full-moon-shaped face, and a protruding
abdomen suggestive of over-indulgence in sweets and other fattening
foods. At the mature age of eleven years he had just secured the coveted
honor of the man’s investiture, as described above. And seven maidens
of suitable rank and age had already been selected, one of whom would
subsequently sustain the ordeal of being chosen as his consort and future
wife. After the hand-shaking and an interchange of courteous salutations,
the boy disappeared. While waiting, I was being introduced to one
official, Korean or Japanese, after another; but so often as I rose for
this purpose, I was politely requested by the Korean _aide-de-camp_ to be
seated again.
The Resident-General and some of his suite went to the audience-room some
minutes before I was summoned to follow. It was my conjecture, from what
His Majesty subsequently said, that he was being told something about
me and about the work which I was to attempt in Korea. In a still later
interview with Marquis Ito I learned the truth of this conjecture. The
Emperor had been assured that the visitor’s purposes were not political;
but the Resident-General, believing that his lectures on matters
educational and ethical had been of service in Japan, had invited him to
come to Korea to assist in contributing to the same important interests
here.
On being invited to do so by the Court interpreter, I followed him to
the audience-room. Any expectation of being conducted through stately
corridors to a splendid throne-room was speedily disappointed. The
audience-room was as near the waiting-room as two small rooms can well
be. It was itself so small that there was difficulty in making the
requisite three bows before standing face to face with His Majesty,
separated only by a round table of the most ordinary sort. At his right
side stood, not the Crown Prince, the son of the late Queen, but the son
of Lady Om. Before I had come near enough to take it, and indeed before I
had made my third bow, the Emperor held out his hand. He is in appearance
a quite ordinary man, of the Korean type; and there was nothing worthy
of notice about his plain Korean dress. His face wore the pleasant smile
with which he is said to greet all foreigners (for, as our hostess says:
“_Il est très gentil, très aimable_”); although its æsthetical effect is
somewhat hindered by a bad set of teeth.
His Majesty expressed the hope that I had a pleasant trip and was very
comfortable and enjoying myself. A favorable answer, and especially
an expression of pleasure at Korea’s beautiful mountain scenery and
delightful climate, elicited the remark—he still smiling, while the young
Prince looked as solemn as an owl—that, “besides the climate and the
mountains, there was nothing else of interest in Korea.” “I cannot quite
agree with Your Majesty,” was the response, “for I find the people and
the country very interesting and I am sure that my interest will increase
the longer I stay.” The Emperor then went on to say that he was glad to
learn I had come to instruct his people in right ways; that he hoped
they would open their minds to enlightenment and to modern ideas; and
that my addresses would contribute to their progress. I answered that I
should sincerely endeavor, by speaking on the same subjects on which I
had been accustomed to speak in my own country, in England, India, Japan,
and elsewhere, to contribute some little help to the same good cause in
Korea. Up to this time, no sign of permission had been given to take my
dismissal, and, indeed, once when a movement to withdraw had been made,
a half-gesture had prevented it; but now His Majesty held out his hand.
After taking it, I bowed and backed out safely over the threshold—a
manœuvre made the easier by the small size of the room.
On returning to the waiting-room the question was asked whether the
Crown Prince was present with his father; and no little surprise seemed
to be excited by the fact that Lady Om’s son had on this occasion taken
the place on the Emperor’s right hand customarily occupied by the older
half-brother. After the entrance again of the Marquis Ito with his suite,
and of the Korean officials, to the room for waiting, light refreshments
were served; the ceremony was then considered at an end.
My first experience of lecturing to a Korean audience came on the evening
of the same day. While waiting in the small, dingy rooms of the Korean
building, then used for offices by the Young Men’s Christian Association
of Seoul, I was introduced to several prominent Korean Christians. The
most interesting of these was the pastor of one of the Korean churches, a
member of a high-class family and one of the very few of his countrymen
who combines a truly manly native character with a profession of the
foreign faith. This man had been chosen by the Crown Prince to assist at
the obsequies of his mother, the murdered Queen. The struggles with his
conscience, which forbade him either to take part in heathenish rites, or
escape with a lie, by feigning illness, or crawl out of the dilemma by
resigning the official position he then held, made an interesting story.
This man solved his problem of conscience in truly loyal style. And when
the Christian pastor told his heathen prince that he could not go, and,
as well, the reason why, instead of ordering him punished the latter
said: “Why did you not let me know beforehand that you are a Christian,
and then I should not have asked you? Go in peace.”
The lecture began late. The hall was crowded with some 600 Koreans,
seated on the floor, standing in the open space about the door, and
perched in the windows. Besides the native audience, a few missionaries
and three or four Japanese friends were the only foreigners present.
The arrangements for enforcing order were unusual and interesting. A
number of young men, designated by badges, were posted near the door or
distributed about the hall. Their office resembled, apparently, that of
the tithing-man in the Puritan churches of a century gone by. Boys who
became too restless were admonished and sometimes even gently rapped or
pulled into place; and those who wished to leave the hall were prevented
from doing so unless they could give peremptory reasons for the wish.
It was deemed complimentary to the speaker that he did not develop
any considerable number of this class of hearers; and, indeed, this
particular audience was called attentive. It was, in truth, fairly so;
although not after the pattern of the altogether respectful and quiet
manners of the Japanese audiences. Indeed, there was always considerable
restlessness and undoubted evidence of that kind of applause which
imitates what the French call _claque_, in the Korean audiences at Seoul.
On the one hand there was a lack of that intelligent and serious interest
in the discussion of questions of education, morals, and religion which
one meets everywhere in Japan; while, on the other hand, there was
response by clapping of hands to any remarks which touched one’s hearers
on the side of sentiment in an appeal to their personal or national
experiences of injustice, pride, and weakness mingled with a certain form
of ambition. These different characteristics may safely be interpreted
as marking essential differences between the present attitudes and
prospective developments of the two peoples.
This lecture, as were all the lectures delivered to the Koreans (since
they were without exception given under the auspices of either the Y. M.
C. A. or of the missionaries), was opened by religious exercises. Dr.
Jones introduced the speaker; and Mr. Reynolds, whose reputation for a
knowledge of the Korean language has secured him a prominent place in
the work of translating the Scriptures, interpreted. The speaker availed
himself of the words which the Emperor had that afternoon spoken in
commendation of his purpose in visiting the country, to propitiate his
first Korean audience. At the end of the two hours the foreigners present
expressed themselves as well satisfied with the beginning which had been
made.
On the afternoon of the next day, which was Sunday, the audience was
equally large, and the attention about equally good; although the drizzle
of rain which came on during the hours of meeting made some of the Korean
men as nervous about the damage threatening their best-wear crinoline
hats as American women are wont to be about their bonnets, under similar
circumstances, on an Easter Sunday. As we entered the hall, Dr. Avison
was leading the audience in singing. The quality of the song was not
high, but it was perhaps equal to that attainable in Japan, outside of
the Greek Cathedral at the time of my first visit fifteen years ago. The
Koreans are probably more fond of music, and more apt at learning, than
are the Japanese. Already, under the training of their German teacher,
Professor Eckert, a Korean band is giving to Seoul fairly creditable
music. This service of song continued for about one-half hour and ended
with the performance of a quartette by Korean young men, one of whom
is Chamberlain to the Crown Prince and a nephew of the Emperor. This
Sunday’s audience was almost exclusively Christian.
The next evening’s audience was not quite so large as the others had
been, but was obviously of much higher intellectual quality. More of the
prominent men of the official class, apparently attracted by the nature
of the theme, were present. They responded with increasing enthusiasm
to Dr. Jones’ clear and vigorous interpretation of my remarks upon the
dangers to the national life which grow out of superstition, lawlessness,
partisanship, selfish ambition and avarice, and a frivolous, irreverent
spirit. At the close of the lecture the audience rose to their feet and
waved toward me their uplifted hands as a greeting, equivalent to the
Japanese _banzai_—thus making an encouraging ending to the first series
of lectures in Seoul.
On our return from Pyeng-yang it was arranged that a course of three
lectures should be given in the hall of the Young Men’s Association to
the teachers, and one or more popular addresses in Independence Hall,
if this larger building could be obtained. To secure an audience for
the teachers’ course, some 400 tickets of invitation were issued and
distributed by Korean helpers. The report of the eagerness with which
these tickets were sought led the secretary of the association to predict
that three hundred at least would gather to hear discussed such topics
as the following: “The Work of the Teacher,” “The Preparation of the
Teacher,” “The Ideals of the Teacher.” The lecturer himself estimated
that an audience of as many as fifty would be entirely satisfactory.
As a matter of fact, somewhat more than one hundred appeared at the
appointed hour. The Korean helpers who had distributed the tickets
accounted for the discrepancy between the fact and their anticipations
by the persistence of the rumor that I had come to Korea to take a
permanent official position under the Japanese Government. [Indeed, this
was the prevalent opinion in Korean official circles—and even among some
of the foreigners—until the date of our leaving the country.] But the
same question arose again: Had the Korean Christian helpers really told
the truth and had they been faithful to their work; or had they dealt
with their commission treacherously and brought back a false report?
In either case it was obvious that the teachers of the public schools
had diplomatically refrained from attendance, under circumstances which
might indicate a relaxing of their anti-Japanese sentiments. However,
certain of the Government officers now promised to send out word that
attendance was commanded; and a large increase was expected at the next
lecture. Whatever was the real cause of the first disappointment, the
audiences were, in fact, about doubled at the following two lectures.
They were also officially dignified by the presence of the Vice-Minister
of Education, who, alas! soon afterward was arrested for contributing
1,200 _yen_ to a conspiracy of assassination involving his own chief;
he confessed to this intensity of his patriotism, underwent, according
to current report, the preliminary examination by being beaten with
rods, and was still in prison when we left Korea. As touching the moral
efficiency of the lectures, however, it is only fair to say that the evil
deed had been done some time previous to the culprit’s opportunity for
benefiting by their influence.
At the close of this course on educational topics to the Korean teachers
of Seoul, one of the officials in the Department of Education detained
the audience by a long and somewhat impassioned address. In this he
heartily thanked the lecturer and exhorted the teachers to a better
fulfilment of their duties—at the same time lamenting bitterly the sad
condition of educational interests in their native land. Then one of
the Korean secretaries of the Y. M. C. A. complimented the audience on
their excellent behavior while in the hall. This conduct of themselves
had been in accordance with their profession as teachers. They had not
yawned, or belched, or interrupted the speaker by leaving the room while
he was speaking, after the customary behavior of Korean audiences of the
uneducated classes. It should be said, however, that one of the many
minor indirect benefits to the Korean people which are largely due to
Christian missions is this: discipline in remaining fairly quiet and
attentive while listening to others speaking. The unregenerate native
manners in public meetings are most abominable.
Finally, after several disappointments and rebuffs, Mr. Gillett succeeded
in obtaining Independence Hall for Sunday afternoon of April 21st. On
our way out to the meeting and back again he revealed the fact that,
on account of the opposition to me as the guest of Marquis Ito, he had
been unable to get the meeting advertised as widely and effectively as
he desired. Whether this was due to the unwillingness and unfaithfulness
of his Korean helpers, or to the determination of the native edition of
the _Korean Daily News_ to oppose and traduce everything even remotely
connected with Japan, I did not inquire. But I decided, and asked the
secretary to communicate my decision to his native helpers, that this
should be my last address to the Koreans in Seoul, unless invited by the
Koreans themselves. Was there not here, I asked, a small body of leading
Christian helpers with courage and manliness enough to set themselves
against the prejudices of their countrymen by expressing spontaneously
their willingness to hear truths about education, morals, and religion,
from one who was the friend of the Japanese as well as their own nation’s
friend?
In spite of the insufficient advertising, Independence Hall was fairly
well filled. Some 1,500 to 1,600 were present; although perhaps 500 or
600 of the audience were boys, some of whom were not more than ten or
twelve years of age. Much time was consumed in settling upon the floor
in the front part of the hall these school-children as they arrived in
groups, one after the other; and the exercises began more than an hour
later than the time announced. The topic had been advertised as “The Five
Conditions of National Prosperity”—these being, Industry, Art, Education,
Morals, and Religion. Partly on account of somewhat heated feeling, and
partly on account of cooler judgment as to what are the needs of the
hour for Korea, I spoke with audacious plainness and with unaccustomed
energy. Dr. Jones, who was acting as interpreter—moved, I think, by
somewhat the same emotions—quite surpassed himself in vigor and in
clearness, in a fine mingling of robustness with felicity of expression.
The foreign auditors, including the interpreter himself, were inclined
to be enthusiastic over the success of the meeting. For myself, there
intervened a considerable period of distrust, both of the Koreans and of
my ability to judge them fairly. Of one thing, however, I was becoming
reasonably sure: the prophetic voice, exalting righteousness and openly
condemning the vices of cowardice, lying, injustice, and cruel prejudice
and race-hatred, is needed above all else in speech to the Koreans. I
asked myself, and was unable to answer: Are the Christian agencies at
work in Korea furnishing that voice, in a manner and measure to meet the
need?
[Illustration: Going to the Lecture at Independence Hall.]
The next morning, on returning from a walk with one of the foreign
secretaries of the Young Men’s Association, we stood for some time upon
the steps of Miss Sontag’s house discussing the decision of the day
before. All the excuses for the Korean attitude toward any endeavors to
help them which could, even in the remotest way, be connected with their
anti-Japanese prejudices, were admitted; they were indeed “natural” (in
the much-abused meaning of the word), but they were neither reasonable
nor Christian. Besides, they were rendered particularly unmanly by the
fact that these same Koreans were ready enough to profit, individually
and collectively, by Japanese money and influence; and they were
eager and crafty to use the religious institutions afforded them by
Christian money, for the furthering of heathenish purposes and even
criminal designs. The best thing which the “guest of Marquis Ito” could,
therefore, do for the Koreans themselves was to let them know how, in
his judgment, they were to be measured by the standards of morals and
religion which they had professed to adopt. On going in to tiffin,
somewhat late from this discussion, I found by my plate the cards of five
Korean gentlemen, prominent in Christian circles, who had called in my
absence. The next day information was received that these gentlemen had
come to thank me for my previous work in their country’s behalf and to
suggest their wish to have the work continued.
As a consequence of this implied invitation, one more public address
was advertised for a Korean audience in Seoul. It was to be in the
Association Hall, and its topic—“The Seven Cardinal Virtues.” On the
evening of Friday, May 3d, some four hundred were present, including the
Roman Catholic Archbishop, whose acquaintance I had made only two days
before. Either because of the hot weather, or of the character of the
address, or of the audience, the interest seemed less than at any of the
previous lectures. The time to terminate the series of talks on topics
so little stimulating and satisfying to the desire for “look-see,” and
for emotional excitement, had plainly arrived. Probably, eight addresses
on such serious topics, with an attendance averaging perhaps 500 to 600
each, ought at the present time in Korea to be gratifying to any speaker.
However this may be, the address of May 3d was the last of my experiences
with Korean audiences in Seoul.
Meantime, however, other invitations to speak in the capital city of
Korea had been received and were waiting for their turn. Soon after our
arrival, one of the Japanese pastors called to say that it had been
arranged for me, by one of the teachers, to address the patronesses of a
school for Korean girls bearing the name, and profiting by the favors, of
Lady Om. Although other plans had previously been made, in order to save
her reputation with the “leading lady” of Korea, a rebuke was sent to
this teacher for engaging her speaker without first consulting him; but
the invitation was accepted. [In justice to the Koreans, it should be
said that the person guilty of this indiscretion was a Japanese. Indeed,
to pledge the speaker, and even to select his time and topic for him, is
a sort of morally doubtful enterprise, out of which even the New Japan
has not as yet wholly emerged]. The talk at Lady Om’s School was in no
respect a success. Although both substance and style were made as simple
as possible, the Korean girl who had studied abroad and was, therefore,
thought competent to interpret, completely failed in this office. And
when the Japanese pastor, who had mediated the invitation, followed with
an address in his native language which was to convey the substance of
the same thought to the Japanese teachers and patronesses of the school,
he delivered so prolonged and brilliant an oration that the speaker whose
few simple words served as a text for it all, was obliged to commit a
breach of etiquette by leaving before the customary sequence of cakes.
In addressing Japanese audiences in Seoul, as elsewhere in Korea and
all over Japan, I felt entirely at home. It was characteristic of them
in this foreign land, as it was in the home country at the same time,
that they were, above all, desirous to hear the subjects discussed about
which I most desired to speak. The day when the nation had expected a
full salvation from “science” and military prowess, without morals, has
happily gone by. Its leaders, whether in educational circles or in the
army and navy, in civil service, and largely, too, in business, are
becoming convinced that the “spirit” of Japan must be revived, retained,
made more comprehensive, purified, elevated; if the triumphs of war are
to be followed by the wished-for successes in the ensuing peace. Thus
in Korea, as everywhere from Nagasaki to Sapporo, in primary schools,
commercial schools, and in the university, I found the interest of the
Japanese in ethical subjects supreme.
When, then, an invitation was received to be present at a banquet given
by the “Economics Club,” of which Mr. Ichihara (manager of the _Dai-Ichi
Ginko_ or branches of the First Bank of Japan in Seoul) is president, and
to speak there, I was glad of the opportunity—not only to meet friends,
but also to express certain cherished thoughts on the relations of ethics
and economics. The Marquis Ito was present at this meeting of the club
for the first time. In a lengthy address, spoken with his usual careful
“picking of words,” the Marquis emphasized the need that the Japanese
should set before the Koreans an example of honesty and fairness in their
economic relations. He dwelt upon the thought that the one hundred and
seventy who were present, and who represented the principal Japanese
business interests in Korea, should show how the Japanese national
policy is based upon the principle of unselfishness; and how Japan has
declared for, and means to stand for, “the open door.” In welcoming me
he repeated, on this public occasion, what he had said in the privacy of
the interview at Kyoto, with the following words: “Taking advantage of
his visit to Japan, I have invited Professor Ladd, whom I have the honor
and the pleasure of considering as a friend of several years standing, to
come over here and favor me with his frank and independent views on the
situation. What I want is independent views. I trust he knows this very
well. I trust his observations will be of great help to me.”
In replying to the address of His Excellency, after apologizing to
President Ichihara for criticising the school of economics in which
he had been trained (Mr. Ichihara studied this subject in the United
States), for failure to emphasize the important and unalterable relations
which exist between moral principles and economical policy, I expressed
my gratification at the triumph of the newer school which builds on
history, psychology, and ethics. I then spoke of the importance of
regarding _moral_ principles as fundamental in all practical ways, for
the most successful handling of the delicate political and economical,
as well as social interests, of both Japan and Korea. The observations of
both speakers to the same effect were seriously listened to and heartily
commended by this influential group of Japanese financiers in Korea.
Between these gentlemen and the unscrupulous and mischievous rabble of
their countrymen, who poured into Korea at the close of the war with
Russia, a grave distinction must constantly be made by those who would
understand the situation there.
The Japanese ladies in Seoul have formed themselves into several
flourishing societies, the most important of which, perhaps, is the
“Ladies’ Patriotic Association.” This Association is not only useful
as an organ for benevolent work among the widows and orphans of the
Japanese soldiers, and among the soldiers now on service in Korea, but
it has already done much to break down the barriers which exclude Korean
women of the upper classes from similar offices, as well as those which
separate the women of the two nationalities. It is, therefore, admirably
adapted to further indirectly the purposes of the Resident-General
in maintaining the honor and welfare of Japan by promoting the good
of Korea. On Wednesday of the week following the address before the
Economics Club, I spoke to some sixty Japanese ladies, and about the
same number of gentlemen, under the auspices of this Association. The
theme was the importance and value of relations of friendship between
the two countries, as an appeal to the patriotism of those who must be
relied upon to bring about these relations. A few Korean ladies also were
present at this gathering. And when, at a collation which followed in
the Japanese Club-House of Seoul, Mrs. Ladd made a short address to the
ladies, a response in few words was made in Japanese by Mrs. Megata, the
wife of the Financial Adviser to the Korean Government, and a yet longer
one, in the same language, by Mrs. Yi Chi-yung, the wife of the then
acting Korean Minister for Home Affairs. Such incidents as these may seem
trivial, but they are really noteworthy as the beginnings of what may
well grow into a satisfactory practical solution of the difficult problem
of establishing a Japanese Protectorate over Korea in a way to secure the
honor and welfare of both nations.
The remaining two addresses to Japanese audiences in Seoul were not
particularly significant as bearing upon the interests I was trying to
serve. They were, however, suggestive as to certain changes going on in
Korea which are destined to assist in the redemption of the country.
These were an address on an educational topic to about sixty teachers who
met in the fine, large brick school-building which marks conspicuously
the Japanese ideal in this matter; and a talk on the relation of religion
to social reform, given in one of the Japanese churches to an audience
of a union character, representing the Christian work among their own
countrymen by pastors imported from Japan. An address at the annual
meeting of the Bible Society, an address at a meeting of the Asiatic
Society, and one or two other talks, completed my work of this character,
so far as the city of Seoul was concerned.
It will be remembered that the more important work in which the Japanese
Resident-General in Korea hoped I might be of some assistance could
not be done merely by making public addresses, however well received
by the Koreans themselves. It was evident that his plans for uplifting
by pacific measures the economical and educational condition of the
Korean people were being misunderstood and hindered, not only by those
foreigners who had selfish interests to promote, but also by some who
ought to co-operate in every unselfish way. These “anti-Japanese”
foreigners were of several nationalities (so far as the diplomats and
business men were concerned); but the missionaries were, for the most
part, my own countrymen. In the complaint of Marquis Ito, there was
never at any time the least trace of bitterness, although the fact was
obvious that he felt the credit of his nation, as well as of his own
administration, to be deeply concerned. But surely, if both Marquis Ito
and the missionaries were striving to promote what was best for the cause
of the Korean nation and of humanity in the Far East, the disclosure
of this fact ought to make more easy the adjustment of the delicate
relations involved in the different kinds and methods of their benevolent
work. I knew that the Marquis desired this friendly understanding and
cordial co-operation. I thought it right that foreign missionaries should
be not less moved than was the Resident-General by the same desire.
Union and sympathy, rather than opposition or indifference, ought to
prevail between the industrial and educational interests and the more
definitively moral and religious.
The larger aspects of the missionary problem in Korea will be briefly
treated in another connection. At present it is enough to describe the
conclusions on this subject at which I was forced to arrive, and to tell
something of my personal experiences. There had, doubtless, been much
provocation to form a poor opinion of the character and intentions of
the Japanese populace which had crowded into the cities of Seoul and
Pyeng-yang during and after the war with Russia. They had cheated and
maltreated the Koreans and had brought suspicion and, in some instances,
disgrace upon the fair fame of Japan. None of the other foreigners were
readier to make accusation of this than were the reputable Japanese to
confess and deplore the same thing. But all the robbery and oppression by
these unfriendly foreigners was as nothing compared with what the Koreans
had suffered from their own countrymen through hundreds of years.
Moreover, at this very time, almost without exception, a Korean was to
be found back of, or associated with, a Japanese in each scheme for
swindling and in each act of injustice or oppression.
On the other hand, the conduct of some of the missionaries had not
been altogether judicious or even fair and just. As a body they seemed
inclined to be over-credulous and easy to deceive by the falsehoods
and exaggerations of their own converts. Not unnaturally, but it would
seem unwisely, they had been somewhat too extravagant in praise of the
negative virtues of the Koreans, and somewhat too sparing in demanding
the more manly moral qualities of sincerity, courage, veracity, and
sturdy loyalty to justice and to truth. And—to quote expressions heard
from the lips of some of the ladies—there had been too much talk with
foreigners and before the natives, about the “dear Koreans”; and “We
do not love the Japanese.” That certain letters home—in part private
and not designed for publication by the writer, and in part written
by missionaries themselves for the press, or by chance visitors or
newspaper correspondents to make public stories told to them by the
missionaries—had created strong impressions unfavorable to the success
of the Japanese Protectorate, was not a matter of merely private
information. Moreover, the connection, both implicit and obvious, between
these workers in the moral and religious interests of Korea and the
enterprises of Mr. Homer B. Hulbert and his colleagues in the alleged
political interests of the Korean Court, could not fail to be interpreted
by both foreigners and Koreans as hostile to the policy of the Japanese
Government. Even as late as August, 1907, an open letter—than which
anything more insulting or abusive of the Japanese nation has seldom been
published—was written by a Church of England missionary.
Dr. Jones and I had talked over the situation and the policy of the
missionary body, as touching the real and lasting advance of morals and
religion in Korea, many times before the hour when the point of turning
was reached. I had found him always frank, fair, and sympathetic with
the difficult and complicated interests of both peoples. He had assured
me that, personally, Marquis Ito was steadily gaining in the confidence
of all the foreigners, including the missionaries, and even of the
Koreans themselves. But the prejudice and bitterness of feeling toward
the Japanese generally remained unchanged; and every one seemed to be
doubting whether the policy of the Resident-General could win its way.
I had steadily maintained the position that, whatever might have been
true in the past, the welfare of Korea and the success of missions there,
depended upon a positive and hearty co-operation of all the factors
common to both forms of good influence. I had previously told Marquis
Ito that, in my judgment, the Christian movement now in progress would
be the most important help toward the success of his policy in uplifting
the Korean people. His Excellency, I had said to Dr. Jones, had held
out the hand to the missionaries; for them, through fear of losing
influence among the Koreans, or _especially at the Korean Court_, to
refuse to take this hand, seemed to me not only unwise but in a measure
un-Christian. Without the success of the powerful influence wielded by
the Resident-General for the economical and educational improvement of
Korea—for developing its industries, founding schools and hospitals,
making the conditions of life more comfortable and sanitary, purging the
corrupt court, and securing law, order, and the administration of justice
in the country magistracies—preaching, Bible-teaching, and colporteurage,
must remain forever relatively unavailing. Moreover, I was becoming
convinced that a large proportion of the present interest of the Koreans
in the missionary movement had, either in pure or mixed form, political
motives behind it.
It was on Thursday, May 2d, that the _Korean Daily News_—the paper
whose most obvious purpose seemed to be, in its English edition, to
foster prejudice against the Japanese and to obstruct the policy of
the Resident-General, and in its native edition to mislead the Koreans
and excite them to sedition—published the following “telegrams about
Korea from American papers” as likely to “prove of local interest”
(_sic_). [It should be remembered that this date was only some ten days
after the assassination of the Minister of the Household Department,
Mr. Pak Yong-wha, and somewhat more than a month after the attempted
assassination of the Minister of War.] “American missionaries writing
from Korea recently tell of a most intolerable state of affairs in
that country where the Japanese have been acting in such a high-handed
manner as to cause even the humble native to revolt. The Emperor is
held a prisoner and appears to be in daily terror of his life. Nor
have the aggressions of the Japanese been confined to the natives of
Korea. Americans, engaged chiefly in mining enterprises, had it plainly
demonstrated that Korea is no place for them and that they would better
move out. A representative of these mining interests” (the true story of
this ‘mining representative’ will be told elsewhere) “is now either at or
on his way to Washington to see if they cannot obtain redress from their
government. This latest development in the Korean situation, the boycott,
will doubtless precipitate matters in Korea.”
These “telegrams,” published May 2d in Seoul, bore date of San Francisco,
April 1st. It so happened that Dr. Jones came to my office on the early
morning of the date of this publication. Finding that he had not read
the article in the _Korean Daily News_, I called his attention to it;
and I then spoke more plainly about the urgent necessity of a change of
attitude on the part of the missionaries than I had ever spoken before.
It was apparent, I urged, that the negative, non-committal position
would no longer suffice. Instead of its being justifiable under the plea
of not engaging in politics, the very reverse was true. The missionaries
in Korea, either unwittingly or half-willingly, were being used, both
in Korea and in the United States, to foster anti-Japanese feeling as
supported by exaggerations, falsehoods, and only half-truths. They were
thus, I feared, helping to encourage the very worst and most dangerous
elements in both countries. There was real danger that, if this course
was persisted in, the peaceful policy of Marquis Ito, with its patient
and generous effort to promote the development of the Korean people,
might be discouraged. And if the mailed fist were invited, or seemed
necessary, to maintain the reasonable and unalterable intention of Japan
never again to leave Korea to be a prey to foreign intrigues against
herself and to the degradation of its own corrupt government, the cause
of Christian missions in Korea surely would not fare better than it
easily could by establishing friendly relations of co-operation with the
existing Protectorate. The events of October, 1895, and of the following
years, ought not to be so easily forgotten.
Two days later the following, under the heading of “Marquis Ito and
Christian Missionaries,” appeared in the _Seoul Press_. “His Excellency
Marquis Ito received Dr. George Heber Jones and Dr. W. B. Scranton on
Thursday afternoon. The work of the churches in Korea was discussed
and the visitors assured His Excellency that the reports, reproduced
from American papers, claiming that the Christian missionaries were
antagonistic to the Resident-General and his policy in Korea, neither
represented their personal sentiments nor those of their colleagues;
that His Excellency might feel assured of their sincere sympathy and
co-operation in all measures looking toward the betterment of the Korean
people. The missionaries make it a rule to stand aloof from political
matters, finding in the moral and spiritual uplift of the Korean people
full scope for activity.”
“His Excellency assured the visitors that he gave no credence to the
reports thus circulated, and that he entertained no suspicion nor doubt
of the missionaries in Korea. He fully recognized the value of the work
they were doing for the moral and spiritual betterment of the Koreans,
and wished them every success.”
This public announcement of the establishment of friendly relations
between the Marquis Ito and an influential portion of the missionary
body in Korea was drawn up in semi-official fashion. The gentlemen who
undertook the duty of making the advances toward the Resident-General
were convicted—as is every one who comes into anything approaching
familiar relations with him—of the complete sincerity of his purpose
toward the people of Korea, and of his frank and fair-minded policy
toward all foreign interests. The Marquis himself, after the interview,
requested that the substance of it might be made known to the public.
Each party prepared with care the few words which declared this unselfish
alliance between the representative of His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor
of Japan, in Korea and these representative teachers of religion, in
the common effort to promote the industrial, educational, moral, and
religious welfare of a hitherto unhappy nation. Such an alliance—as we
may reasonably hope—will contribute to the reputation for wisdom and
unselfishness of both parties to it. At any rate, as soon appeared, the
immediate results were in the direction of an enlarged future good.