On passing from the square into the precincts of the palace by the main gateway you have a vision of harmony in green; a delicate, subtle blending of greens in courtyard buildings, and pine-trees behind them, while the range of hills towers in the background. A beautiful bridge spans a sort of moat, over which grotesque stone creatures lean towards the water as if about to plunge into it. On the right there is an entrance to an open space of ground where the Japanese are erecting a boys’ school. This is a hard blow to Korean pride, but unfortunately our Japanese allies are apparently reckless of such details, and instead of trying to make their protectorate as conciliatory as possible, they too often do the reverse; indeed it is only in rare instances that they seem to do otherwise. In many ways they are doing a great deal which should benefit the country, but in such a manner as to make it thoroughly obnoxious. It is of little use to repudiate the idea of annexation, when they trample on the dearest wishes of the Korean, and treat him as a vanquished foe. From this courtyard one passes into others where the sewing women used to live, for there are numbers of courts surrounded by houses varying in size and importance, but all of them in a state of decay. The palace is the most beautiful and cherished spot in the capital, and it is sad to see it falling to pieces with alarming rapidity, while the part inhabited by the Empress was absolutely destroyed and its very stones used in the construction of other buildings. The great audience chamber is a glorious colour study in green, Venetian red, gold, and blue, with lofty pillars stretching up to the ornate roof, which culminates in a centrepiece of gold dragons, somewhat different in design from the Chinese dragon. Although it is only one storey, the roof has been so built so as to give it a great appearance of height. All round the hall are latticed windows, which could be set open for large audiences. The hall is surrounded on three sides by a fine large paved court, through the centre of which runs a double line of stones like milestones; they mark the places where the courtiers used to stand according to their rank when waiting their turn for audience on state occasions. Court beyond court the palace stretches to the Emperor’s private apartments, which were more modest in size than the public halls.