We are told that in the year 378, as the result of the coming of these foreign priests, the city of P’yeng-Yang was laid out as a great ship. To us this sounds strange. It is not easy for us to realize that a city was really regarded as a great ship and that a mast was erected in its midst, apparently in order that the sails of prosperity might waft the ship to good fortune and success. Outside the city were stone posts to which the ship was to be tied up, and for many years it was forbidden to dig wells in the city because it was feared that if a well were dug, the boat would spring a leak and the whole place would be foundered. Such was science in the fourth century. It seems strange to us now, but ideas of that kind were rife in those days; in fact they have not yet disappeared from popular thought in Korea. I am not sure whether such ideas are connected with Buddhism, or whether they only form a part of that old geomantic philosophy which has so greatly influenced China, Korea and Japan through centuries. We find geomantic survivals of many kinds in many places. Old masts are scattered all over Korea, here and there, sometimes in quite inaccessible places; built of wood, they rise to a great height, and are sheathed with metal, which may bear an inscription and date. Many other places than P’yeng-Yang were thought of as great ships—temples, cities, entire valleys. (Plate VII.) [Illustration: PLATE IV Sari monuments: Yuchom-sa [Page 55]] At Tongdo-sa, a great monastery in the south of Korea, my attention was called to an iron ring fastened to a rock near the trail. They told me that it was for the tethering of a great ox, that all the mound of earth and rock near there is considered to be a great ox lying down; a hole about a foot in diameter in the rock, close by the trail, is said to be the nostril of the creature, and a knoll of earth near by formed its head, while the great body stretched out far beyond. At Riri my attention was called to a mountain ridge and I was told that it was a running horse; two stone pillars stood on the level ground near by—they were intended to prevent the horse from damaging the fields. It seems that many years ago it was realized that a running horse was likely to do damage to growing crops; the wise men of the district were called together and consulted; they determined that they would destroy the danger by erecting these pillars of stone, beyond which the horse cannot go. Perhaps ideas like these were taught in those old universities in 375 A.D. Perhaps they were then, as now, individual and professional knowledge, not to be learned in schools.