ter of life, social, political, and otherwise. All roads lead up to Seoul. Mark the word up, for no Korean ever thinks or speaks of the capital of his country in any term but up. This thought is carried to such an extent that everything outside the capital is called down in the country. It matters nothing that a man lives in a city of forty or sixty thousand inhabitants — he is only a countryman, and always speaks of going up to Seoul and down to his own city. When one drops into an inn and begins a conversation with some one in the room, he is often asked the question, "Ola-kam-na-ka, na-ri-kam-na-ka?" which means, "Are you going up or down?" and is always understood at once to mean: "Are you going to Seoul or to the country?"
Seoul is now a little more than five hundred years old, and, I might add, has not yet obtained her freedom. The city was established when the capital was moved from Songdo to this place, in the year 1392, just a little more than five hundred years ago. At the very first the city was laid out on a large scale and inclosed by a great stone wall about ten miles in circumference. This wall is about twenty feet high, being constructed of earth and faced on the outside with cut stone. The wall of earth is broad enough for an army to march on top of it. The stone wall is some three or four feet higher than the earthen wall, and is pierced with small portholes, through which the soldiers were able to shoot their arrows, at the same time not exposing themselves to the sight of the ene-my. In this wall there are six great gates through
