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Some of the booths are temporary straw sheds, and others mere stands on which the wares are exposed for sale. Boys go about the streets selling sweetmeats, which they carry in trays suspended from their shoulders. Great quantities of firewood, dried grass, etc., are brought into the city on the backs of oxen and horses, and sold in the streets while still on the animals' backs.

The ordinary articles of trade found at the different stores and booths consist of books, fans, foot rules, oil paper, hat covers, hats, caps, screens, leopard skins, pipes, mouthpieces, tobacco, saddles, hairpins, cabinets, pottery, shoes, iron pots and pans, nails for shoes, locks, knives, old coins, sulphur, tobacco boxes, etc. There are also foreign matches, needles, cotton, thread, and shirtings.

Of edibles there are red peppers, peas, rice, millet, etc., exposed in baskets on the street, and roasted and raw chestnuts, walnuts, fresh or dried persimmons, jujube fruits, and plums, arranged in shops. It is said that in the season there are excellent apples, pears, plums, nectarines, peaches, and melons, besides the grapes before spoken of. Butcher shops and cook shops abound. Fowls and eggs are plenty, and excellent game in its season.

There are no theaters or places of entertainment, and no temples or public gardens.

The streets are very quiet, although now and then men and women are scen quarreling. There are no conveyances standing about for hire, like the jinrikishas in Japan. The officials ride in chairs or palanquins, and are generally escorted by a number of soldiers to clear the way. Others ride on ponies or donkeys, of which a great number are seen. The saddles are very high, and elevate the rider about a foot above the animal's back, and foreigners do not find them comfortable.

The Koreans are, physically, a fine race, but rather weak and effeminate. They are naturally bright and intelligent, but very ignorant. They are uniformly polite and friendly, and an act of rudeness or incivility is quite uncommon. The women are regarded as servants, and to them is left the greater part of the work. Women carry all loads on their heads; and the men, on their backs. Among the wealthy and the nobility marriage takes place at an early age, and widows are not allowed to marry again. Plural marriage is a common thing, and concubinage very general.

But few young and handsome women are to be seen in the streets, and the older ones, who are short in stature and ugly looking, often run into the nearest house or turn into another street when they see a foreigner coming.

Most of the city people are well dressed, and their general neat appearance is in marked contrast with the miserable appearance of their houses. White garments are the most common, but they wear a variety of colors, principally green and blue. Chil

dren wear pink and violet, and women light blue, more than other colors.

The men's costume is mostly a long robe with broad sleeves tied on the right side by ribbons. Under this they wear two or more robes or jackets, which only reach down to the waist. The trousers are very wide, and tied a little above the ankle where the stockings begin. In winter time these cotton or silk garments are nicely wadded with cotton, and are put on one above the other till the wearer is quite warmly clad. But the poorer classes wear only two garments in the dead of winter, consisting of a cloak, or robe, and a pair of trousers. The shoes are similar to those of the Chinese. Some are made of oxhide, which is untanned, but dried and stiffened into a substance as hard as horn. The common people, however, wear a kind of sandal made of hempen cord.

The material of which their clothes are made is always of one color. No patterns are seen in their garments. The lower officials at the palace wear scarlet dresses and bamboo hats. The soldiers, dressed in former style, wear over the ordinary robe a blue cotton garment hanging in strips from their shoulders, and from their large, black, low-crowned hats hangs a red tassel. Those who have been trained in foreign style have a uniform something after the pattern of the Chinese.

The ordinary headdress of Koreans consists of a horsehair band tied tightly around the forehead, and on it a skull cap of the same material. Over this cap is a hat with a rim about sixteen inches in diameter, and a conical crown four and a half inches high. The hat is usually too small for the wearer, and is kept on by ribbons, a string of beads, or some other fastening tied under the chin. It shields the eyes from the sun to a slight degree, but offers no other protection. Married men wear their long hair gatlıered up into a neat coil on the top of the head. Boys wear it parted in the middle and in a long cue, which is braided and only the natural length, and not plaited and lengthened with silk like that of the Chinese.

Korean Women anl Korean Homes. THE women of Korea are kept very busy at work. Much of their time is given to washing and sewing. They are expected to keep their husbands and sons in spotless linen, and as the men dress completely in white, wearing even white leggings, and as Korea abounds in miry clay, the washing becomes no mean thing. Moreover, when one learns that every article before it is washed must be entirely picked to pieces, and after it is ironed remade, the sewing looms into gigantic proportions.

Korean women have no soap, no tubs, no washboards. The clothes are carried to a mountain stream and there rubbed on the stones. They have no irons,

so the pieces of cloth are wound over a sort of rollingpin and patted with a stick-a most laborious and tedious process, but one which gives linen a gloss almost equal to that of satin.

The traveler in Korea, in coming into a town or village or passing a single house, far into the night, never fails to hear the tick tack, ticktack that announces the woman at her ironing.

The middleman of Korea occupies the same relation in marriage that an agent does here in the exchange of real estate. Fathers tell him of their sons aud daughters, and he arranges the marriages. Upon the day of the wedding two coolies bring a sedan chair, and leaving it in the lobby-for no woman must be seen by a man-go out. The bride, arrayed in her finery and with painted face, is put into the box, the coolies return, take up the chair, carry it to the bridegroom's house, retire while she is taken out, and afterward return to bear off the chair. A few rites of marriage are gone through, and the bride enters the women's apartments of her new home, never to leave them again, that is, if she is of the higher class The lower classes have greater liberty. A man passing down a Korean street will continually see veiled figures dash away into a court, running from his contaminating sight.

Odd enough is the Korean head gear. A bright green dress waist is thrown over the head, the collar band hanging down across the brow and mouth, and the brilliant red sleeves falling upon either side. This custom dates back into antiquity, when the wife was supposed to stand always ready holding the war coat for her husband. The sleeves were made of red, so that when he wiped his bloody sword upon them it might leave no stain.

Miss Harriet G. Gale writes:

"The Koreans have no schools for their daughters, but high-class girls learn to write and read the Enmoun at home. They are taught by their mothers, grandmothers, and sometimes by their fathers. This knowledge is of little use, however, as all their epistolary correspondence is simply an exchange of compliments, and their books of any value are written in the Chinese character. There are a number of foolish morals in Enmoun, also a work on manners and morals in five volumes, which is read and quoted by all intelligent Korean women.' These books seem as if intended to interest and instruct children of six and seven years of age, instead of adults, but many of the women are said to take great delight in them. "It is a rare thing for a Korean lady under fifty years of age to pay a visit or to call, even on her own mother, and as they do no fancy work, no drawing, painting, or piano playing, and have only the simplest kind of housekeeping to look after, it is hard to see just how the high-class women kill time. When visiting from house to house, I have always found them either smoking, sewing, or doing nothing. Embroidery in Korea is all done by professional

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needlewomen; no one else attempts it. Most of it is done by the queen's own three hundred maids in the palace.

"The women doctors are better called sorcerers, and are most cruel, burning and cutting the patient in a hideous way. A medicine which is sometimes given to a father, when others have failed and his life is thought to be in danger, is a broth made of his daughter's hand. A Korean woman once told me that no dutiful daughter would think of refusing to lose her hand for this purpose, and that one who had thus saved her father's life is almost worshiped by her family.

"When a baby is born no physician is called. The house and yard are kept perfectly quiet, the two large gates are shut, and for three days no one enters the house, not even the water carrier, who leaves the large water jars outside the gate. The babies, unlike those in China, are bathed at once and tied up in a little quilted comfort, and another bath is given on the third day, but no visitors are expected for the first month. Koreans are usually very fond of their children, even the daughters have a warm place in the hearts of their fathers, although it is regarded a great shame and misfortune to have a family of daughters only.

"Korean women, though secluded, are not without influence in their little kingdom. Many whom I have known seem to have their homes and husbands pretty well under control, although their power is gained rather by stratagem than by war or love. The grandmother often governs all the house and makes the young men and their wives walk the chalk line. I once heard the second wife of an official scold him in a shameful way, and the poor old man took it as if he really stood in fear of her."

Mr. T. H. Yun, a Korean, writes:

"The wife among the better classes lives in close seclusion. No man she ever sees except her nearest relatives. No visits she ever makes except to the most intimate friends of her own sex. Nowhere she ever goes out except in a close sedan chair. Her position in the family is, however, by no means degrading. It is the duty of the husband to respect, even if he does not love the wife. As the mistress, her authority over the servants is supreme. As the mother, she commands the implicit obedience of her children. On the other hand, her duties are numerous and important. Housekeeping in all its details is under her charge. She looks after the comforts not only of her husband, but also of her father-in-law and mother-in-law. These persons she must reverence, obey, and serve as if they were her own. Religion enjoins and custom requires this. Indeed, any great misconduct toward the parents of her hus band even justifies, in theory at least. her being divorced. That this is an unjust custom goes without saying for, if a man is not expected to obey and serve his father-in-law or mother-in-law as he

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would his own parents, why should a woman have such an obligation put upon her?

"In religion the Korean matron is very liberal. She believes Buddhism which recommends idol worship as meritorious. She believes Confucianism, which

Fathers are thus rigorous, however, not from the want of love, but from their mistaken notion of authority and discipline."

of Korea.

"The husband is the ruler of the house. He supports the family; enforces domestic discipline; conducts ancestral worship. He is, in his little sphere, a king, a lawgiver, and a priest.

"Over the children the authority of the parents is absolute. Obedience is the first principle of filial piety. The least disobedience is visited by the rod. This, however, does not argue that the Korean father has no love for his children. Quite the contrary, for he that spareth his rod hateth his son.' "Girls are allowed to play with boys until the age of nine or ten. Thereafter they are confined in the house under the care of the mother. Sewing, reading, and writing in the native alphabets make up a girl's education. Boys are sent to schools kept by private teachers. The well-to-do folks employ tutors for the education of their sons. The curriculum goes no higher than the study of Confucian classics, penmanship, history, composition, and simple arithmetic -all taught in Chinese characters, the Latin of the East.

Here we have all the elements that go to make a home-wife and husband, parents and children. But the cheer and joyfulness that brighten a Christian home are painfully absent in a Korean family. All is stiffness and cold formality. This is chiefly due to two causes, (1) despotism and (2) the objectionable custom of marrying without love.

"The difference between a Christian and heathen home is not in the elements, but in the principle which rules and binds these elements. Given a family in which love rules, and we have a cheerful home. But where authority alone reigns there may be weeping children, but no domestic happiness. Take a Korean home. The children play hide-andseek and blindman's buff. They laugh and chatter and halloo. The indulgent mother tells them be quiet, yet her gentle voice and look rather encourages than checks their innocent frolics. But suddenly the noise and laughter are hushed. Girls retire into rooms. Boys look scared and betake themselves to books or to writing brushes. What is the matter? Why, the father has come in! The children, going before him, cannot sit down unless so bid. If the boys have not done the task assigned to them, whether it be memorizing a certain passage in a book or practicing penmanship-a very important branch of education-they are happy if they be not sent out to get switches to be whipped with.

BY REV. W. J. HALL, M.D.

ON the 20th of February, accompanied by Rev. W. A. Noble, I started upon my fourth missionary tour into the northern interior of Korea. Our little pack ponies were well loaded with books and medicines, and a little foreign food. The weather was still cold, and, although we were quite well equipped, we suffered considerably. The rivers were frozen so we could cross them on ice.

One cold morning we came to a man lying in the ro. d. At first we thought he was sick or drunk, but upon close examination we found he was dead, frozen stiff. The natives passed by without paying any attention to what seemed to us such a terrible sight. We tried to find out all we could about the case, and learned that the poor man had been sick, was without house or friends, and being unable to go further, and, as the night was bitter cold, he had frozen to death.

When the sick are without friends here they have a hard time. Often they are put out on the city walls to die, and frequently we find them before it is too late and take them to the hospital, where they are clothed and fed, and with proper treatment in a good room they soon recover. Many precious lives are saved in this way and led to Christ.

We traveled about thirty miles each day, and as our pack ponies could not go fast we walked most of the time in order to keep warm. Upon arriving at the inns often we would find them very cold, and at other times too hot. The vermin troubled us a great deal, although not so much as in warm weather. The dirt was very unpalatable, but hunger soon enabled us to consume a good portion.

After six days' travel we reached Pyong Yang, one hundred and eighty miles from Seoul. We at once went to a friend's house where I had been entertained last fall. He was one of the governor's assistants, and last summer I was called to treat his son who was in a dying condition. God blessed the means and speedily restored the boy to health. The gratitude of the parents knew no bounds. They made me several presents of eggs, chickens, and ducks. When I returned in the fall I was invited into their home, and given a very pleasant room. What an agreeable change from the filthy inn where I had been stopping in a room eight feet square, in which I had treated my patients one by one.

Our new friend manifested a deep interest in Christianity, and would frequently come in late at night after his duties at the governor's offices were

done, and we would talk of the things of God until midnight, and then we would kneel together and pour out our hearts to God. We are looking for good results from this seed sowing. When I went back the second time he said he was more glad to see me than he would be to see his parents, and he wanted me to use everything he had just the same as if it were my own.

Through our native helper we were able to get a place well situated for our work, which I trust will soon be our hospital. As it was in a different section of the city from where I had been before, the people did not know me, and they felt uneasy over my presence and went to the governor and asked him to remove the foreigner, as they were much afraid. The governor replied, "The foreigner is not a bad man, but a gentleman. He cures the sick and helps the poor. Is he not a good man?" He gave orders to the captain in charge of the district I was in to quiet the people, and arrest any giving me trouble. Their fears were allayed, and soon my hands were filled with patients flocking from all parts of the city and surrounding country. Long before the appointed time they would gather on the street in front of the dispensary and wait until the hour arrived.

Before I left Pyong Yang I was treating over sixty patients daily. Others would come for me with chairs carried by coolies, and take me to their homes to see the sick unable to come to the dispensary. Nearly every patient bought a Christian book and appeared to be deeply interested in Christianity. We held services with the patients before treating them, and each night and upon Sunday we gathered those together who appeared interested, and further instructed them.

Since returning to Seoul I have received letters urging me to return as soon as I could; that those I had taught met together every Sunday and read the Bible and prayed to God. Others have come the whole distance, six days' journey on foot, for medicine for their friends.

How much we need more workers so that we could stay longer with the people, instructing them in the truth. But we did all we could, and will leave the result to Him to whom all power belongeth in heaven and in earth.

After reaching Pyong Yang we had made only one fourth of our tour. We went one hundred and seventy miles further north, treating the sick, preaching the Gospel, and selling Christian books in the cities and towns through which we passed. Many expressed a desire to be Christians.

In We Chu we had stopped nearly a week before we knew the danger to which we were exposed by our room having just previously been occupied by smallpox patients.

In our journeyings the pack ponies often fell and threw us to the ground. In one place, going over a steep mountain pass, I was walking behind the pony

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when it commenced to slide, and soon fell over backward, rolling with the pack on its back to the base of the mountain. There was just room for me to step aside in a cleft to let it pass by, or I would have been crushed. Strange to say the pony appeared but little injured, and was able to travel on with us with its load.

The hardships, dangers, and privations of the missionary appear as nothing compared with the joy of carrying the blessed tidings of salvation to the lost. We feel that God has a special care over missionaries and suffers no harm to befall them. O, that those who are his may place themselves where God can make the most use of their lives in his service!

Protestant Missionaries in Korea.

METHODIST EPISCOPAL.-Rev. H. G. Appenzeller and wife, J. B. Busteed, M.D., Rev. W. J. Hall. M.D., and wife, Rev. George H. Jones and wife, W. B. McGill, M.D., and wife, Rev. W. A. Noble and wife, Rev. F. Ohlinger and wife, Rev. W. B. Scranton, M.D., and wife, Miss Mary M. Cutler, M.D., Miss Ella A. Lewis, Miss J. O. Paine, Mrs. M. F. Scranton. Rev. H. B. Hulbert and wife, Miss Mary W. Harris, and Miss Lulu Frey will leave the United States for Korea this month'

PRESBYTERIAN, NORTH.-Rev. H. M. Underwood, D.D.. and wife, Rev. D. L. Gifford and wife, Rev. T. F. Moore and wife, Rev. W. L. Swallen and wife, Rev. F. S. Miller and wife, Rev. W. M. Baird and wife, Rev. J. S. Gale and wife, Rev. S. A. Moffett, Rev. Graham Lee, C. C. Vinton, M.D., and wife, H. M. Brown, M.D., and wife, O. R. Avison, M.D., and wife, Miss S. A. Doty, Miss V. C. Arbuckle, Miss Ellen Strong.

PRESBYTERIAN, SOUTH.-Rev. W. M. Junkin and wife, Rev. W. D. Reynolds and wife, Rev. L. B. Tate, Miss L. F. Davis, Miss Mattie S. Tate.

CHURCH OF ENGLAND.-Bishop C. J. Corfe, D.D., Rev. W. M. Davies, Rev. J. H. Pownall, Rev. M. N. Trollope, Rev. L. O. Warner, E. B. Landies, M.D., J. Wiles, M.D., Mr. J. W. Hodge, Mr. W. Smart, Miss L. R. Cooke, M.D., Miss G. A. Heathcote.

PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH OF AUSTRALIA.-Rev. J. H. Mackay and wife, Miss B. Menzies, Miss Bessie Moore, Miss J. Perry.

UNION MISSION OF CANADA.-Mr. M. C. Fenwick. Y. M. C. A. MISSION OF CANADA.-R. H. Hardie, M.D., and wife.

NOTES ON KOREA.-The foreign residents in Korea number 10,942. These are from the following countries: United States, 79; Great Britain, 51; France, 28; Germany, 25; Russia, 13; Italy, 2; Spain, 1; Denmark, 2; Portugal, 2; Norway, 3; China, 1,604; Japan, 9,132. Of the whole number, 1,621 reside in Seoul. The natives are superstitious. They engage in demon worship, and ancestral worship has such a hold upon them that a refusal to bow before the an cestral tablets brings social ostracism. The present total of the Protestant church members in Korea connected with all the missions is 177. Of this number 50 belong to the Methodist Episcopal, and 127 to the Northern Presbyterian mission. The Methodist Episcopal mission reports 2 native unordained preachers, 6 native teachers, 50 members, 72 probationers, 85 pupils in two day schools, and 100 pupils in two Sunday schools; the average attendance on Sunday worship being 306.

Dining with a Mandarin.

BY MISS A. L. CRAIG.

DOROTHY and I, after cruising along the shores of the "Morning Lands," found ourselves in Tien-Tsin for the winter months, and there Dorothy had her first Chinese dinner. It was given in her father's honor by a mandarin in the "Old City," which is two miles or more from the large, handsome European settlement known to foreigners as Tientsiu.

This "Old City" is surrounded by an ancient wall so thick that daylight is dim and dusky under the quaint arched gateways, though an intense yellow sunlight shines always over that part of China. With its throngs of dark, suffering, ignorant faces, its booths, its curio shops, old Tientsin is well worth seeing, though not pleasant in every respect. But our evening with the mandarin was gorgeous with wealth and Eastern hospitality.

Our invitation was written, I might say brushed, on a big card of bright red paper, such as the Chinese and Koreans use for visiting cards. The invitation was most ceremonious; it was in the manner cousidered the most elegant, in the form used in addressing persons of the highest official rank. I will give the translation:

"On the 10th instant I will wash my cups and await your coming to dinner at seven o'clock. My card is inclosed." The huge red invitation and the huge red card was inclosed in a huge red envelope addressed to "Great Man." An assurance that the cups will be washed has its attractions, coming from a Chinese host.

Dorothy flew into a dancing delight when she found that the "Great Man's" daughter was inIcluded in the invitation from the mandarin. Still she only hoped to look ou at the queer feast. She declared that she would not be induced to taste any of their heathenish food.

us.

Our mandarin kindly sent his own sedan chairs for They were lined throughout with the daintiest white fur, and liberally supplied with fluffy, white fur rugs. In each was a comforting little foot stove of carved brass. It was an exquisite way to travel. We set out on a bright moonlight night. Our party was large, and our chair bearers were constantly calling and yelling to clear the narrow streets for our 'procession. They were the more crowded because it was the Feast of Lanterns." The lanterns were very beautiful, and in every form that could be devised-temples, pagodas, birds, fishes, frogs, and curiously cut imitations of blocks of ice. The shops and houses were illuminated with them, and children and grown people were carrying them through the

streets.

At the end of an hour our sedan chairs were set

down before the high, blank, gray wall surrounding the mandarin's house. A double row of servants awaited us at the entrance. They held silk lanterns which seemed colossal soap bubbles. Between the two rows of servants we passed into a large courtyard, brilliantly illuminated with lanterns of a size and beauty I have never seen equaled out of China.

Here we were received and welcomed by our host, who was magnificent in a satin fur-lined gown of rich color, and a cap tipped with the button of his rank. We were then ushered into a room near the entrance, to remove our wraps. Around the walls were furcovered divans and several painted folding screens. In the middle of the room was a table, spread with caviare, anchovies, buttered bread, and sherry, of which we were asked to partake. After eating a little we crossed the courtyard, and entered a long, large room with small tables laid for dinner. each table were seats for seven persons.

At

Across the end of the room was a platform, slightly raised from the floor, on which were lamps placed on substantial tables of richly carved black wood. On the platform and at intervals down one side of the room were big, carved, high-seated, lowarmed black chairs, divans, rugs, and long mirrors. Few Chinese houses contain so handsomely furnished an apartment. The palace of the viceroy has none better in ordinary use, for his rare carvings, em- . broideries, and paintings are packed away except when displayed on festivals. The three tables were pretty, with small glass dishes piled with sugared fruits, delicious compotes, and nuts glacé. The Chinese are fond of sweets, excel in making them, and eat them before and throughout the dinner at pleasure. Dorothy's appetite came back when she saw the attractive tables, and she resolved to taste even the most remarkable dishes. But she did not expect to do more than taste, for she did not suppose she could nerve herself to swallow even one mouthful.

We had a menu, but as it was in Chinese we were no wiser for it. For this ignorance we were thankful afterward, when the bill was translated for our benefit. Our implements were ivory chopsticks; large silver spoons with a round bowl, and long, thin, two-pronged silver forks, like a hairpin. For plates we had small, deep saucers, each standing on a sort of little pedestal. Each course was served in a bowl, and placed in the middle of the tables that every guest might help himself with his own spoon or chopsticks. With the soups and spoon we were tolerably tidy, but our efforts to get the solids to our lips with chopsticks sometimes made sad work with the tablecloth.

Our first attack was upon preserved eggs, the greatest of delicacies to a Chinese epicure. These