CHAPTER LII.

JAPAN AND RUSSIA IN CONFLICT.

From the night of the murder of his consort until his escape, four

months later, to the Russian legation, the sovereign of Corea was to

all intents and purposes a prisoner in his own palace. Unable to trust

anybody and feeling in constant danger, he sought the American

missionaries for food, for companionship, and even for protection. [61]

To him the new Government consisted of his jailers. The Corean people,

sympathizing with their King, hated the Japanese all the more, for they

felt that their sovereign was a virtual prisoner in the hands of the

Tai-wen Kun and the pro-Japanese conspirators. Under these

circumstances, he determined to break the palace jail. On the morning

of February 11, 1896, according to a plan elaborated by the women and

arranged with the Russians, he entered one of the ordinary box chairs

in which female servants are carried. A few minutes later, pale and

trembling, the King of Corea knocked at the north gate of the legation

of Russia and was promptly admitted. It has been insisted that “no

Russian had been to the palace or near it, nor had any Russian been to

any of the public offices,” yet by some curious coincidence the Russian

legation guards had been increased on the evening of the 10th by nearly

one hundred men from the Czar’s men-of-war at Chemulpo. Furthermore,

the Russians welcomed not only the King but later also the Crown Prince

and the Queen Dowager.

His Majesty was scarcely within the walls of his new shelter before he

issued an edict against his “rebel cabinet,” ordering his soldiers to

“cut off their heads at once and bring them,” but in the afternoon

another edict decreed that the six traitors should be degraded and

delivered to the courts for trial. This royal order was the signal for

another outburst of riot, savagery, and bloodshed. The Corean prime

minister and the Minister of Agriculture were killed and their corpses

mutilated and dragged round the streets. The prisons were emptied and

the innocent and guilty alike released. Sixty-six Japanese, mostly

workmen on the telegraphs, were murdered and the line partially

destroyed.

The pro-Japanese party, beginning with the bloody morning of October 8,

1895, when Queen Min was murdered, had been in power during four

months, during which time a tremendous blow was dealt to the prestige

of Japan in Corea. For eleven months the King transacted the national

business in the Russian legation buildings, going only occasionally to

the palace to give audiences to the foreign envoys. One of these from

the Mikado presented a claim of indemnity for $146,000 for his subjects

slain during the riot.

The flight of Corea’s sovereign was like that pictured in the proverb

“from the frying pan into the fire.” In fierce reality, it was escape

from bloody to inky tyranny, from an iron to a silken chain; but in

both cases it was humiliation and slavery. While the guest of the

Russians, the King paid well his bill as tenant by signing a concession

to his hosts, permitting them to cut timber “in the Yalu valley.” The

Russian Government liberally interpreted this document, according to

the vast scale of Muscovite geography, as meaning the whole basin

drained by the Yalu and its tributaries, that is, a region half as

large as Corea. The Russians thus obtained for a year’s rent of part of

their legation buildings a lien on Corean property valued at fifty

millions of dollars.

Revolutions do not go backward, and the general proceeding of the

Government was along the line of progress. The external reforms are

particularly noticeable in the capital, in which Corean officers

trained in Washington have greatly improved the streets, the methods of

cleaning and the drainage. The police and soldiery were uniformed and

disciplined, and preparations made for a national census. The

untrustworthy “census” of Seoul showed a population of 144,626 in

27,527 houses, and in the suburbs 75,189 in 18,093 houses, or a total

of 219,815, and of houses 45,350, in which district are 36 Buddhist

temples with 442 priests and 204 nuns. The original width of the

streets, as laid out in 1392, of 55 feet, has been regained over many

miles of the city thoroughfares. Foreign trade steadily increased.

American capital and energy helped to make what was once one of the

filthiest and most unprogressive cities of the Far East a clean and

attractive place, bright with electric lights and railway and modern

water-works. A railroad was built from the seaport to the capital and

opened for traffic September 1, 1899. The steel bridge, made at

Chattanooga, Tenn., spanning the Han River is nearly a mile long. The

electroliers give light to the palace and to part of the city of Seoul.

The trolley line, besides traversing the city, runs to the mausoleum of

the Queen, which has been built in superb style. There her scant

remains, escorted by a vast procession characterized in all its

features by the old barbaric grandeur of Corea, were laid with

appropriate ceremonies.

In the spring of 1896 the Independence Club, with a membership of over

2,000, was formed. It was composed entirely of natives actively

interested in social and material development as well as in the

independence of Corea. On October 21st the cornerstone of Independence

Arch was laid on a site but a few yards distant from the old Chinese

Gate under which the ambassadors of China had for centuries received

the vassalage of the Corean sovereign. It is a structure in stone,

alike of architectural beauty and of political significance. The

subsequent history of this club and of the general movement, in which

the publication of a daily newspaper in both English and native script,

The Korean Independent, were prominent features, is not a happy one. It

showed clearly that independence or freedom must be something more than

a word, in order to bring forth the fruits seen in America or among the

nations that have most cultivated liberty, safeguarded by law. In this

Seoul movement the seed may have been good, but good and well prepared

soil did not exist. Rock, brambles, and the beaten road of bad

precedent, in which Corea is so rich, received the sower’s hopes. The

movement ended in sedition or evaporated. Nevertheless, it was vastly

better than the Seoul mobs that so often dictated imperial policy to

the ministers of the Government. As late as May, 1902, the former

members of the Independence Club were being arrested and executed. More

promising in ultimate results was the celebration on September 2d of

the forty-fifth birthday of the King by a great gathering of Corean

Christians in the pavilion near the old Chinese Gate.

After a stay of one year and nine days, the King left his Russian

quarters and took up his residence in the new palace of Kyeng-wun,

built in 1896 in the western part of the city, where are gathered the

foreign legations and residences, some of them very handsome and

substantial.

Corea, being now free and independent, between the two great empires of

Japan and China, and Corean conceit of national history and antiquity,

real or supposed, being never at any time lacking, it was thoroughly

appropriate and financially very profitable for the yangban and palace

officials to take measures to proclaim the once “little outpost state”

an “empire,” and their sovereign an “emperor.” Besides suffering from

imperialism in an acute form, the Corean office-holders knew well the

significance of this nominally political act, in relation to their own

fortunes; for in the assumption of the King of Corea of the title of

Emperor, $100,000 was taken out of the treasury to celebrate the event,

most of which, as a matter of course, went into the pockets of the

King’s faithful servants. His Majesty protested in vain against the

proceedings, but finally yielded gracefully. At 3 A.M. on October 12,

1896, with great pomp and state, before the altars of the Spirits of

the Land, the King assumed the title of Emperor of Ta Han, or the Great

Han—in distinction from the ancient San Han. “The King is dead, long

live the Emperor.”

This, too, was the time of Russia’s political dominance, when a Russian

military commission of fourteen were drilling the Corean military and

when the Minister of Foreign Affairs at Seoul and the Russian envoy,

Mr. Speyer, signed an agreement, November 5th, by which Dr. McLeavy

Brown, the Englishman in charge of the national finances—able,

faithful, and unterrified—should be ousted and a Russian, Mr. Kuril

Alexieff, put in his place. Mr. Brown’s contract not having expired, he

refused to vacate his post, and a large British and Japanese fleet

having appeared off Chemulpo, he was able to maintain his ground. The

three countries, Russia, Great Britain, and Japan, made an agreement

that Mr. Brown should remain in office and that a Russian and a

Japanese commissioner of customs should share in the collection of

foreign duties at the ports. On December 23, 1897, a telegram was

received from the Czar of Russia recognizing the Emperor of Corea,

whereat the imperial party in Seoul was greatly elated. This whole

incident illustrates the rather theatrical methods of Russian diplomacy

in Corea during the past twenty years, showing how entirely her

interests were military and strategic, but not commercial, she having

usually scarcely a score, and never at any time a hundred, of subjects

in the empire commercially engaged, and only a few fishermen who are

whale hunters on the coast. One Baron Guntzburg was busy as a promoter

of Russian interests, and the wife of the Russian minister was not

inactive in social affairs and even as an influencer of political

action.

It was not long before there were signs of a popular reaction against

Russia. On January 22, 1898, an attempt was made to assassinate Kim,

the native Russian interpreter. By March 10th this feeling had taken

form in a great anti-Russian demonstration, which ended in the

apparently total though not real withdrawal of Russian influence in the

peninsula. The military commission soon after departed and the

Russo-Corean Bank was closed. After much excitement, Russia and Japan,

on April 25th, agreed on a modus vivendi, both recognizing the

sovereignty of Corea and engaging to refrain from direct interference

in her internal affairs. No military or financial adviser was to be

nominated without mutual agreement, and Russia bound herself not to

impede the commercial relations between Japan and Corea. It was evident

(probably in large measure on account of Russia’s new interests in

Manchuria) that she considered Corea for the present beyond her sphere

of influence. No serious revival of the claims of Russia to any part of

Corea were made again openly until 1903. When the correspondence

between Tokio and St. Petersburg, leading to the war of 1904, opened,

the ambitions of Russia were seen to be serious and all-embracing.

The first year of the Corean empire was completed after the celebration

of the King’s birthday with unusual demonstrations of loyalty. The

founder’s day (that of Ki-tsze, or Ki-ja, whose tomb and temple are at

Ping-an and which suffered during the war of 1894) and the 506th

anniversary of the establishment of the dynasty, as well as the

celebration of the coronation, were honored with unusual

demonstrations, including the illumination of the capital. This year

was noted for a revival of Confucianism among the yangban, Buddhism

having already enjoyed a “recrudescence”—both systems being galvanized

into a similitude of life by the powerful induction, and evidences,

both in leaven and bloom, of the new faith. On the whole, the year 1898

was characterized by an intense conservative reaction in the Government

and by an absence of important diplomatic or political events, except

the chronic local rebellions in the provinces and the plots of rivals

and partisans in the capital. Notwithstanding that the solar calendar

had been adopted in 1895, and had been officially observed, the people

still celebrate New Year’s Day with a fortnight of oldtime rejoicings,

merrymakings, and customs according to the lunar calendar.

The year 1899 was one of comparative quiet in the capital and

provinces. During the Boxer agitation in China, there was danger of

eruptions across the border which were duly guarded against, and a

Russian escort of fifty soldiers to the refugee Danish missionaries

from China was given free passage. Corea virtually joined the allies

marching to Peking, by giving aid and comfort in the form of a thousand

bags of cleaned rice, two thousand bags of flour, and several hundred

cases of cigarettes.

In August, 1899, the written constitution of the kingdom was issued,

the nine articles of which declare the absolute power of the King. It

cannot be said that either the Coreans, the foreign diplomatic corps,

or the world at large took this giving of a constitution as a very

serious matter. To the special “imperial” envoy despatched from Seoul

to Tokio, Japan flatly refused to promise the complete neutrality of

Corea. Nevertheless, Corean subjects are expected to bow down and

worship (either in the old English sense of the term or with more

profound significance) the picture of the Emperor as in other pagan or

semi-civilized countries. A memorial tablet and pagoda “to commemorate

the virtues of his Majesty” was begun—on a day significant in the

West—April 1, 1902. These will be in the main street at the junction of

Palace Street in Seoul.

It was noted as a great event in the history of a country that has

never given very serious attention to its high-roads, that Dr. W. B.

Magill, an American missionary, drove a horse and carriage from Gensan

to Seoul. A system of lighthouses was decided upon October 31, 1901.

The fiftieth anniversary of the Emperor’s birthday was celebrated

December 7th, silver commemorative medals being given to each guest at

the palace. A Corean band of musicians, trained by Mr. Franz Eckhart, a

German, who arrived in the country February 19, 1901, played two pieces

of foreign music very creditably to themselves and their instructor. On

July 1, 1902, the Corean national hymn, an adaptation by Franz Eckhart,

was published. This German musician had already made a good record in

Japan.

On May 30, 1902, the Emperor entered the Society of the Hall of Aged

Men, having completed the first year of the sixth decade of his life

(51 years), the foreign representatives being entertained at breakfast.

Prominent among these, in influence and ability, was the American

minister, Dr. Horace Newton Allen, born in Delaware, Ohio, in 1868, and

resident in Corea since the summer of 1884, when he introduced modern

methods of healing and surgery. He accompanied the first legation of

Chō-sen in Washington. There he was appointed secretary to the American

legation in Seoul, and since 1890 has been the chief guardian of

American interests in Corea, being made minister in July, 1896. During

the time of the Boxer insurrection in China, when the movement

threatened to spread into Corea, he was especially alert in

precautionary measures of safety. Previous to the outbreak of the

Russo-Japanese war, he secured the presence of a guard of American

marines in Seoul by which American rights, personal and commercial,

were thoroughly secured.

Events during the year 1903 showed a steady movement toward an

inevitable end and pointed to the impending crisis between Russia and

Japan. The situation in Seoul was dominated by Yi Yong Ik and Yi Keun

Tak, who were in close communication with Port Arthur and the Russian

authorities at that place. Their high-handed financial and other

schemes, in opposition to the Japanese efforts at securing a stable

currency, came to naught after severe pecuniary loss to natives and

foreigners and the serious disturbance of trade. The Russians, on April

11, 1901, had secured a twenty-year extension of timber cutting and

prosecuted vigorously their advances in the north. They now refused to

allow the Corean Government any supervision over their work of denuding

the forests in the Yalu valley. In May one of the Czar’s gunboats

anchored in the harbor of Yongampo, which the Russians called Port

Nicholas, and soon after began what were believed to be fortifications.

A guard of twenty-six Russian marines reinforced the legation in Seoul,

shortly after the violation by Russia of her pledge to evacuate

Manchuria. A serious riot in November between Nipponese and Muscovite

soldiers at Chemulpo foreshadowed the impending clash on a large scale

in 1904. During December Russia’s influence at Seoul blocked all

attempts of the foreign representatives to have Wiju (Ai-chiu) opened

as a port of trade.

At this stage in the nation’s history, the once white-coated hermits

who had hitherto lived under their own top-knots, and often under hats

that were as big as a haycock, began numerously to go abroad as

students. Scores of them have been in America and Europe and hundreds

in Japan. In December, 1902, a party of nearly one hundred emigrants,

men, women, and children, started for Hawaii. All of these were

admitted, except eight who were sent back because of contagious eye

disease. Other incidents showed healthful movement in a long-stagnant

mass of population. Light and vision are coming to a people blind to

nearly everything modern.

Of all the moral and reformatory forces at work, that of active

Christianity leads. The missionary pioneers, Allen, Underwood,

Scranton, Appenzeller, Heron, Gale, Jones, Hulbert, and others,

mastered the language and opened the treasures of native literature and

history. Already the list of aids to the vernacular and of their

writings descriptive of country and people is a very respectable one.

These works, the fruit of earnest toil, contrast superbly in the

quality of truthfulness with the sketchy and ephemeral writings of

tourists and hasty travellers. With other scholars and civil servants

of various governments, they sustain the editor in furnishing the

richly freighted pages of the Korea Review, and have formed the Korea

Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, from which already several

creditable volumes of “Transactions” have appeared to delight the

serious student, who values perspective and tone in his mind-pictures

of this once hermit nation.

Already the representatives of the Christian brotherhoods of

English-speaking peoples have their row of graves in which sleep

heroes, veterans, and some who “fell at the first fire.” Beginning in

1884, their prospective celebration of a double decennial, in

September, 1904, was postponed under the clouds of war. Besides healing

and helping, translating the Scriptures, and teaching the great

uplifting truths which centre around the idea of one living and true

God, gathering thousands of souls into churches and furnishing Gospel

nurture, they have taught the natives the grand lesson of self-support

and self-propagation through a first-hand knowledge of the Bible. War,

persecution, and manifold trials have tested and proved the quality of

the converts, who in sincerity and power to stand in the midst of

temptations are perhaps second to none in any field.

It was evident at the opening of the year 1904 that Japanese armies

were once again to tread the soil of Corea, this time the war being not

between China and Japan, but between Japan and Russia. Against the

Colossus of the North and Russian rapacity, the Island Empire had a

long list of grievances. As far back as 1861 a Russian man-of-war had,

not without shedding the blood of its defenders, landed marines on the

Island of Tsushima. There they had planted seed and begun the formation

of a settlement looking to permanent occupation. In those days of

hermitage, weakness, and fear, nothing could be done by the Japanese

authorities at Yedo; but Katsu Awa, the Shogun’s most far-seeing

statesman, called the attention of the British minister at Peking to

this invasion, and a British naval force was sent to compel the

Russians to retire. A few years later Russia took possession of

Saghalien, after the usual preliminary of “joint occupation,”

compelling the Japanese to be satisfied with the Kurile Islands below

50° 56′ of north latitude. This was in the year 1875, but long before

that, Japanese statesmen, especially Okubo, had penetrated the designs

of Russia. The formation, out of feudal elements, of her national army

in 1871 and the first of this character since the twelfth century, was

largely with a view of defending Japan against Russian and other

aggressions. On the return of the Japanese embassy from its trip round

the world in 1873, Okubo, Kido, and others opposed the Corean war

project (as we have seen in Chapter XLVII), because a war with Corea

then meant playing into Russia’s hands. Something of the popular fear

of Russia over the Japanese nation, which hung like an advancing black

cloud, was seen in the attack by a fanatical policeman on the Crown

Prince, now the Czar of Russia, during his visit to Japan in 1891, but

the Government in Tokio, even in the person of the Mikado, besides

making ample apology, scrupulously maintained propriety in all dealings

with Russia, at home and in Corea, living on terms of perfect

friendship. It was therefore a stunning disappointment, though a not

wholly unexpected procedure, when Russia, in 1895, summoning to her aid

the French and Germans, deprived the Japanese of the fruits of their

victories in the war with China, by compelling the islanders to

relinquish all territory on the mainland of Asia, and to be content

with Formosa and an indemnity. Exhausted as they were by the war with

China, yet had the Japanese been possessed of five battle-ships, they

would have declared war upon Russia as an abominable intermeddler and

aggressor. The force of circumstances required them to swallow their

humiliation, but as the Japanese, any more than certain Christian

nations, never forgive an injury, they began immediately to gird

themselves for the coming and inevitable struggle with the Power that

seemed bent upon their destruction. When the Boxer uprising in 1899

called forth the military energies of eight nations, the Japanese

Government at first held back, lest its motives in being too forward

might be questioned. When finally urged to lead the van of the allied

armies of rescue, Japan sent 21,000 of her ablest and best equipped

soldiers into the campaign. Their experiences on the march to Peking

were invaluable to the Japanese, for through becoming comrades with the

mujiks in the camps and on the battle-field, they learned that they had

nothing to fear from such foes when arrayed against them in anything

like an equality of numbers in war. The Japanese officer found himself

a modern man in the presence of his equals, who were men steeped in

mediæval methods of thought.

Steadily enlarging their navy and perfecting in every detail arms,

ammunition, field equipment, army hygiene, and the physical development

of their soldiers, the Japanese determined to stand for their rights,

even though this might seem like Jack challenging the giant. No longer

hermits on an island, which, having but a small fraction of arable

fertile soil, could not feed its inhabitants, so that population had to

remain stationary, the Japanese had become a nation of traders and

manufacturers, with an annual increase of population of over 500,000 a

year, with a total population of fifty millions, and with a foreign

trade that had increased 543 per cent since 1890, with a total export

trade consisting of 84.6 per cent of manufactured articles. With nearly

thirty thousand Japanese subjects in Corea, most of them married and

with homes, and with 10,000 of their people in Manchuria, they took an

interest in the affairs of Corea and Manchuria which was not like that

of the Russians, chiefly military and strategic, but which, on the

contrary, was commercial and vital. During the Boxer troubles, Russia

sent a large army into Manchuria and finally took possession of the

whole of that portion of the Chinese Empire. She promised solemnly to

all the governments interested, to vacate the country on the 9th of

October, 1903.

The world knows how this promise was broken. The correspondence between

Tokio and St. Petersburg reveals the exasperating delays of the Russian

Government, and its intention not only to remain permanently in

Manchuria but to prevent if possible Japan from having anything to do

with the matter. Russia even desired “recognition by Japan that

Manchuria is outside her sphere of special interest” and requested a

mutual engagement to establish “a neutral zone on the Corea-Manchuria

frontier, extending fifty kilometers each side into which neutral zone

neither of the contracting parties shall introduce troops without the

consent of the other,” and “the engagement on the part of Japan not to

undertake on the coast of Corea any military works capable of menacing

the freedom of navigation in the straits of Corea.”

In a word, what Japan claimed is, that “Japan has a perfect right to

demand that the independence and territorial integrity of China shall

be respected and the rights and interests of Japan in that region shall

be formally guaranteed.”

After innumerable delays and the situation growing more serious every

day, the Russians continually reinforcing their naval and military

forces in the far East, Mr. Kurino, the Mikado’s minister to St.

Petersburg, having waited for an answer since the 13th of January,

called on Count Lamsdorff at 8 P.M. February 4th for a definite reply,

which was not forthcoming. Finding that in all probability there would

be no changes in Russia’s claims of control over Manchuria and her

demand for “a buffer region between confines of direct influence and

action of the two countries in the far East,” being out of the

question, the Japanese legation was on the 10th of February withdrawn

from St. Petersburg and war began.

The Russians were already on Corean soil with three hundred Cossacks

guarding their timber cutters on the left bank of the Yalu River. Since

June, 1903, they had reinforced their army with 40,000 men and their

navy with 26 vessels, ranging from battle-ship to torpedo boat, thus

adding 83,000 tons to their sea power. Five days before, the Russian

commander at Vladivostok had notified the Japanese commercial agent

that a state of siege might be declared at any moment. With steam up,

decks cleared for action, and search-lights in use for night work, the

Russian seamen instantly replied to the fire and torpedoes of Admiral

Togo’s attack. The Japanese thus anticipated a naval raid from the

Russians, which was afterwards successfully carried out from

Vladivostok. To the Czar’s advisers in Europe actual war may have come

as a surprise. It did not come thus to his servants in the far East.

Nevertheless, within three days after the rupture of peaceful relations

the Russian war ships Variag and Koreetz had been sunk outside of the

harbor of Chemulpo by the guns of Admiral Uriu and an army landed to

begin its march northward. At Port Arthur three battle-ships and four

cruisers had been sunk or damaged by Admiral Togo’s torpedoes. The

first idea of the Japanese was to eliminate the sea power of Russia

from the scene of the seat of war. Landing her armies in Corea, at

Chemulpo, the march was made without serious opposition, until near

Wiju, the Mikado’s hosts once more stood on the banks of the Yalu, the

Rubicon of eastern Asia, confronting the forces of the White Czar.

Meanwhile, a new protocol between Japan and Corea was signed, in March,

1904, in which the stronger Power bound itself to reform the weaker

country without annexing it and to protect it without impairing its

sovereignty. Corea pledged herself, as distinctly under Japan’s

protection, to repose confidence in and to accept advice from the

Japanese Government, and to make no agreement with a third Power which

might seem to contravene the principles of the protocol. This document

made Japan the champion of Corean independence, and is in spirit and

letter the antipodes of Russia’s action in Manchuria.

The new model army in Asia, and the most modern of all armies, was in

its fitness of body and mind to cope with the problems of war in the

twentieth century, the creation of the public schools of Japan. These

soldiers, both veterans and youth, set a new standard of resourceful

valor, celerity of movement, temperance in living, ability to endure

hunger and hardship, and of self-abnegation in the presence of death.

To a Japanese patriot, life, apart from duty, has no value. On the 1st

of May, this “public school army,” under Kuroki, having crossed the

Yalu under fire, won a brilliant victory, capturing many guns and

prisoners. They had met European troops and beaten them in fair fight.

Then began the Japanese march through the old Border Gate and Feng-Wang

Chang or Phœnix Castle, and over the mountain range dividing the Yalu

from the Liao valley. The fortified passes were one after the other

carried in victorious assault, and in the early days of September both

Russian and Japanese main armies were marshalled before Liao Yang city,

southwest of the ruins of the ancient Corean stronghold, for one of the

great decisive battles of modern times and perhaps of human history.

During this time other armies were landed in Manchuria and by May 15th

Oku was in possession of the railway leading to Port Arthur. Dalny was

occupied May 26th, and later Yinkow and Niu Chwang came under the sun

banner. On August 25th Field-Marshal Oyama took command of all the

Japanese forces and the armies of Kuroki, Nodzu, and Oku.

After the great pitched battle in the early days of September, the

Mikado’s flag floated over Liao Yang, and Kuropatkin fell back on

Mukden, in masterly retreat.

From Port Arthur, girdled by a wall of fire and under a rain of shells,

the Czar’s battle-ships and cruisers made desperate efforts to escape,

only to be sunk, driven back, or, torn and riven, to seek shelter in

the ports of China, and elsewhere, their presence giving rise to

perplexing questions in international diplomacy.

As we close again, in the autumn of A.D. 1904, our story of the once

“hermit nation,” the Japanese, confronted with the practical

difficulties of assuming a real protectorate over Corea, while

nominally but sincerely striving to maintain her independence, are

still determined to control the peninsula as a vital possession. One

hundred miles of the Seoul-Fusal railway are in operation. The sound of

the blasting night and day in the deep rock-cuts near Seoul announce

their purpose to finish speedily a highway of steel to the Chinese

frontier. The real purpose of the war is the integrity of China, upon

which depends the safety of Japan, perhaps even the political salvation

of Asia.

Corea: The Hermit Nation · 第 52 / 54 章