Near the pagoda stands the Tortoise Tablet, a very ancient structure; the tablet is said originally to have been brought from the Southern Kingdom of Scilla, and erected upon the ledge of granite which outcropped in this place, after the rock had itself been carved into the shape of a tortoise. It was designed to memorialize the building of a temple which dates back to the eleventh century A. D. The tablet is probably more than one thousand years old. Within the small enclosure surrounding these relics, Mr. Megata, the Japanese financial adviser to the Korean Government, is trying to encourage the public spirit of the natives and entertain the resident foreigners by providing band concerts on Saturday afternoons. Thus this spot also offers a study in epitome of the history, present changes, and future prospects of the capital city of Korea. Of the few shrines which the royal prohibition of Buddhism and the low and decaying interest in all religious conceptions rising above the level of spirit-worship—and this mostly devil-worship—have allowed to remain in Seoul, the only ones of any particular importance are the Imperial Ancestral Shrines and the so-called “Temple to Heaven.” But even the guests of Marquis Ito did not think it wise to ask for permission to visit these shrines, or to exhibit any more curiosity respecting them than to glance by the guard, through the open doors of the gateway, while passing along the street. As to the New Palace, which is a stone building of modified Doric architecture, and is so far finished externally that it can be seen to have decided claims to beauty, if only the superstitions of the monarch and of his counsellors among the blind-men and the sorcerers had permitted it to be well placed—this was ever before our eyes from the windows of Miss Sontag’s house. And what was seen of the buildings occupied at the time of our visit by His Majesty and the Court, so far as it is worth a word, will be described in another place.