So Mr. Underwood promised he would do so if his friend, the magistrate, would see that a large and convenient official building was placed at his disposal for services while there. This was willingly promised at once, so the class was appointed to be held there that year, and with the rally of Christian leaders, and the earnest preparatory work of the man who had preferred Christ to an office (of which Mr. U. had not previously been informed), Christianity in Eul Yul began most auspiciously. Up to the present time, however, he who had been so earnest in preaching the gospel, and so generous in supporting it, had never been baptized. The difficulty was that he had two wives, with neither of whom could he bring himself to part. These concubines have a strong hold, and justly so, on the men who had made them part of their family, and on whom they are dependent. All a man’s magnanimity, generosity and tenderness are appealed to on behalf of these women, who, unlike the dancing girls, have in the eyes of the community a certain share of respectability, and are usually not bad or unprincipled, but have been taught to look with toleration and complaisance on such a life, the common custom. However, now, at last, he decided while we were there to take the step and put away the second wife, providing her with a home and fields enough to give her a good income. So he and his wife and baby, and his grown son with his wife and little one, in company with a number of others, were baptized. The people of Eul Yul had built their own church, as well as one-half of the guest house, for their missionary. When we left, every believer who could walk came to bid us farewell, “_Pyeng anikasio_” (Go in peace). We had a last prayer and praise service, and parted with mutual good wishes and regrets, a long train of men and boys as usual streaming out along the road, with and behind us.