To remain in camp until the Han River was frozen over, and could be crossed easily, or to press on at once, was the question now considered by the Japanese. While thus debating, word came that the Chinese armies had made junction at Seoul, and numbered one hundred thousand men. The Japanese “felt cold in their breasts” when they heard this. Far from their base of supplies, their fleet destroyed, and they at the threshold of winter in a famine-stricken land, they were forced, reluctantly, again to retreat into Kiung-sang. This turning their backs on Seoul was, in reality, the beginning of their march homeward. The invaders, therefore, enriched themselves with the spoil of houses and temples as they moved toward the coast—gold and silver brocades, rolls of silk, paintings, works of art, precious manuscripts, books written with gold letters on azure paper, inlaid weapons and armor, rich mantles, and whatever, in this long-settled and wealthy province, pleased their fancy. On the boundaries of roads and provinces they noticed large dressed stone columns of an octagonal form, with inscriptions upon them. Their route lay from Chin-zen, which they left in ashes, on October 25th, to Chin-nan; to Ho-won; to Ho-kin; to Karon; reaching Kion-chiu, the old capital of Shinra, after some fighting along the way. The Japanese were impressed with the size and grandeur of the buildings in this old seat of the civilization and learning of Shinra and Korai. Here, in ancient days, was the focus of the arts, letters, religion, and science which, from the west, the far off mysterious land of India, and the nearer, yet august, empire of China, had been brought to Corea. Here, too, their own ancient mikados had sent embassies, and from this historic city had radiated the influences of civilization into Japan. As Buddhism had been the dominant faith of Shinra and Korai, this was the old sacred city of the peninsula, and among the historic edifices still standing and most admired were the halls and pagodas of the Eternal Buddha. Kion-chiu was to the Japanese very much what London is to an American, Geneva to a Protestant, or Dordrecht to a Hollander. Yet, in spite of all classic associations, the city was wantonly destroyed. On the morning of November 2d, beginning at the magnificent temples, the whole city was given to the torch. Three hundred thousand dwellings were burned, and the flames lighted up the long night with the glare of day. The next morning, turning their backs on the gray waste of ashes, they resumed their march. Kokiō, Kunoi, Sin-né were passed through. Skirmishing and the destruction of castles, and the burning of granaries, were the pastimes enjoyed between camps. On November 18th the army reached a river, where the Coreans made an unsuccessful night attack, repeating the same in the morning, while the Japanese were crossing the stream, with the same negative results.