Still later he had renounced all pretence of Christianity and had himself become a robber. His life as a theological student up to the present time had been characterized by pride, envy, and constant secret hatred of those of his fellow-students who had surpassed him in their studies. Among the most significant of the confessions were those of bitter hatred of the Japanese, and even of murderous thoughts and plans toward them. These wholesome self-accusations were in several instances followed by earnest and pathetic petitions—not only for forgiveness of themselves, but for the Divine blessing upon their enemies. [In this connection it is pertinent to remark that, while there has undoubtedly been much ill-treatment of Koreans by Japanese, I have never known of any of that bitter race-hatred toward the former by the latter, which undoubtedly at the present time permeates a large part of the Korean population toward the Japanese.] On being asked to say a few words to these students, I spoke of the unreasonable and un-Christian character of race-hatred and asked them to put from their minds all such foolish and wicked feelings. And then, as though to emphasize the beauty and brightness of nature as contrasted with the unseemly and dark condition of man, we came out under a sky as clear and alight with scintillating stars as I have ever seen in India or in Egypt. On our arrival at the station of Pyeng-yang, to return to Seoul, on the morning of Wednesday, April 10th, the little fellows from the Presbyterian mission-school were there before us, already in line with Korean and American flags flying, and with drums and trumpets making a creditable noise. The appropriate parting address to this school had scarcely been finished, when another school appeared in the distance, on the double-quick for the station, to whom, when they had got themselves into proper shape, Dr. Noble repeated the substance of the words just spoken to their comrades earlier arrived. Scarcely was this finished, when, for the third time—and now it was the pupils from the Confucian school—a troop of boys came scurrying through the dust, lined up, and claimed their share of the foreign sahib’s parting salutation and advice. And then we were slowly drawn out of the station, and leaving behind on the fence the several hundred school-children and on the platform the several score of Korean Christians and of Japanese who had come to send us off, we returned without further incident to Seoul.