are pretty walks or rides in every quarter, and there is no fear of molestation. Everywhere it is peaceful ; foreigners pass unnoticed by the peasants, who, lazily scratching the surface of their fields, or ploughing in the water of their rice plots with stately bulls, occupy their time with gentle industry. It is more by reason of a bountiful nature that has endowed their land with fertility, than by careful management or expenditure of energy that it serves their purpose.
A few years ago it was thought that the glory of the ancient city had departed. Indeed, the extreme state of neglect into which the capital had fallen gave some justification for this opinion. Now, however, the prospect is suggestive of prosperity. The old order is giving way to the new. So quickly has the population learned to appreciate the results of foreign intercourse that, in a few more years, it will be difficult to find in Seoul any remaining link with the capital of yore. The changes have been somewhat radical. The introduction of telegraphy has made it unnecessary to signal nightly the safety of the kingdom by beacons from the crests of the mountains. The gates are no longer closed at night ; no more does the evening bell clang sonorously throughout the city at sunset, and the runners before the chairs of the officials have for some time ceased to announce in strident voices the passing of their masters. Improvements, which have been wrought also in the conditions of the city — in its streets and houses, in its sanitary measures and in its methods of communication — have replaced these ancient customs. An excellent and rapid train runs from Chemulpo ; electric trams afford quick transit within and beyond the capital ; even electric lights illuminate by night some parts of the chief city of the Hermit Kingdom. Moreover, an
