Our escort believes that the process of amalgamation, which has already begun, will in time settle all race differences, at least in this part of the country. At ten o’clock our train arrived at the South-Gate station of Seoul, where we were met by General Murata, Marquis Ito’s _aide-de-camp_, Mr. Miura, the Seoul Resident, Mr. Ichihara, manager of the Japanese banks established in Korea, a friend of years’ standing, and others, both gentlemen and ladies. The dimly lighted streets through which the jinrikishas passed afforded no glimpses, even, into the character of the city where were to be spent somewhat more than two exceedingly interesting and rather exciting months. But less than an hour later we were lodged in comfortable quarters at Miss Sontag’s house, and were having a first experience of the almost alarming stillness of a Korean night. Even in the midst of a multitude of more than two hundred thousand souls, the occasional bark of a dog and the unceasing rat-tat of the ironing-sticks of some diligent housewife, getting her lord’s clothing of a dazzling whiteness for next day’s parade, are the only sounds that are sure to strike the ear and soothe to sleep brains which must be prevented from working on things inward, if they sleep soundly at all. But this is the place to speak in well-merited praise of the unwearied kindness and generosity of our hostess. Miss Sontag not only makes the physical comforts of those visiting Seoul, who are fortunate enough to be her guests, far different from what they could be without her friendly help, but is also able to afford much insight into Korean customs, of which her experience has been most intimate and intelligently derived.