the capital; but, above all, do I owe it to the Vice-Minister of Home
Affairs in Corea, Mr. C.R. Greathouse, in whose house I stayed most of
the time, that I saw Corea as I did see it, for he went to much trouble
to make me comfortable, and did his best to enable me to see every phase
of Corean life. For this, I need not say, I cannot be too grateful.

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

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

The attractions of Seoul, as a city, are few. Beyond the poverty of the
buildings and the filth of the streets, I do not know of much else of any
great interest to the casual globe-trotter, who, it must be said, very
seldom thinks it advisable to venture as far as that. No, there is