Lying in the sun on a shelving rock, I had an interesting conversation with the English Consul-General. In the course of this Mr. Cockburn expressed the amazement of his country at what he graciously called the “patience” of Americans in putting up so quietly with political and social wrongs which the English had refused any longer to suffer, now nearly a century ago. He seemed sincerely gratified at my assurance that the feeling of the United States toward England is more cordial and appreciative of our common good and common mission in the world than was the case twenty-five and thirty years ago. I found myself also in hearty agreement with his view that the treaty between Great Britain and Japan, whether it should prove of commercial advantage to the former, or not, was fruitful of good to the latter nation, to the Far East, and to mankind as interested in the world’s peace. At about four o’clock the party started on its return to Seoul. The distance was some ten miles, most of which must be walked, by a rather steep descent in places over barren surfaces of granite rock. But the path at first led us still higher up the mountain until, having passed through an inner gate, we reached the outer wall upon the other side of the whole enclosure. For as much of the slope of Puk Han, as somewhat more than two miles of rambling wall can embrace, constitutes this fortified retreat of the Korean monarchy. Thus, with its stores of provisions and implements of war, the cultivated fields, palaces, and other official and unofficial residences inside, it was intended that Puk Han, like its somewhat earlier colleague, the fortresses of Kang Wha, should resist siege by any numbers and for any length of time. But from prehistoric times to Port Arthur, and all over the earth from Sevastopol to Daulatabad, the experiences of history have shown how vain is the hope of the rulers of men to ward off the results of moral and political degeneracy by walls of stone and implements of iron. Far away on the very top of the mountain, to the left of our path, stood a watch-tower which commanded a view of all this part of Korea. From both of the gates in this portion of the wall, which, although they are only a short distance apart, look toward different points of the compass, the views are extensive and charming. To the southward one could look down the steep mountain side, over a valley from which rose rocky but brilliantly colored hills, bare for the most part of foliage, and through which the silvery thread of the River Han wound its way, upon a series of mountain ranges bounded only by the horizon. From the Western gate were to be seen Chemulpo and its island-dotted harbor, and beyond the open sea.