JAPANESE RELATIONS WITH KOREA

WHEN a great and powerful nation is determined to take possession of the territory of another which is insignificant and weak; when it conscientiously believes that, in order to secure its safety and future material development, the incorporation of the weak within its dominions is essential; when, on the other hand, a third nation, also great and powerful, is decided that this incorporation will constitute a menace to its own safety, and is determined that the weak must either remain independent or be appropriated by none but itself; when the first is flushed with the unbroken success of a long career of territorial expansion, achieved sometimes by diplomacy, but as frequently by force of arms, and has, in public at least, unbounded confidence in its military strength; when the third has equal confidence in its strength, is actuated by the most fervid patriotism, is high-spirited, of unquestioned valour, of absolute unanimity, and throughout two thousand years of history has never known defeatthen an impasse is created from which the only outlet is war. Russia has decided that the coast line of Korea is essential to the completion of her own Asiatic littoral. On the eastern coast of Siberia her harbours are closed by ice and useless to her throughout the winter. The coast of Manchuria is ill provided with harbours; even that of Port Arthur is of insufficient depth and dimensions to afford adequate shelter to a fleet or even to single battle ships of the present-day tonnage. That of Korea, on the other hand, has several harbours which fulfil every naval requirement. Pre-eminent among them is Masampho (called Douglas Inlet on the English charts), in the extreme south of the peninsula, almost directly facing the Straits of Shimonoseki, and less than sixty miles distant from the Japanese island of Tsushima. It is capacious, deep, sheltered, and capable of being rendered impregnable to attack from the sea at little cost either of money or engineering skill. It is free from ice all the year round. It is less than 900 miles distant from Liaoyang, a station on the Trans-Asian railway, and for 300 miles of this distance a railway, constructed by Japanese, is already far advanced on the road to completion, so that it could speedily be brought within the effective sphere of Russia's military land system. Its possession would give any strong naval

Power holding it almost complete command of the Chinese seas, providing a secure basis from which effective blows might at any time be struck at either Japan, China, or our own Far Eastern Colonies. To Japan it would, in the hands of an aggressive Power of unbounded covetousness, be a perpetual danger. It is no wonder, therefore, that, considering this port the key of Korea, and Korea again the key of Asia, Japan has determined that neither must fall into any hands but her own-that this condition must for ever be the very foremost plank of her foreign policy—and that that policy must be maintained at all costs and all risks so long as a single Japanese fighting ship or man remains. It seems impossible that either Power can now withdraw from the position it has publicly assumed. For Russia to do so at the dictation of a Power hitherto believed by all Chinese to be infinitely weaker than herself would be to inflict a blow upon her Asiatic prestige for which she would have to pay dearly in the enhanced difficulty of guarding her Siberian frontier, coterminous with that of China for 3,000 miles, against predatory Chinese bands. For Japan to do so would be merely postponing an evil day, when she would either have to fight on far less favourable terms than she can now do or undergo a complete effacement as an influential Power in the Far East. There seems to be no escape from war between the two Powers, and in all human probability the first blow will have been struck before these lines see the light of publicity.

Should this anticipation, so far as the fact of the outbreak of war, apart from the time at which it takes place, prove correct, it will be the fourth foreign war in which Japan has engaged, and of every one Korea has been the subject. In the mythological days of her history Japan is said to have successfully invaded Korea and to have received the submission of its king, who declared that until the rivers flowed backwards he and his kingdom would for ever remain tributary to Japan. In this fact the Japanese hold implicit faith, though its date was long prior to the commencement of authentic history, and the miraculous incidents that are gravely alleged to have accompanied the invasion are sufficient to throw doubt on the whole story. Fourteen hundred years later Korea was a second time invaded, and in regard to this invasion we are treading on firm historical ground. Japan was then ruled by Hideyoshi, a great and successful general, whose ability had raised him from low degree to the position of Regent of the Empire. Absolute in Japan, he resolved to crown a long and unbrokenly successful military career with a second conquest of Korea, which was invaded by his troops in 1592. During the following six years the whole country was overrun and devastated from end to end. The Koreans, utterly inexperienced in war, armed only with primitive weapons, even then accustomed to rely for protection on China, could offer but a feeble resistance to the Japanese veterans, fighting with firearms and led by skilful and experienced generals.

Assistance was sent to them from China; but the Japanese, though meeting with some slight reverses, were finally victorious everywhere, and the whole of Korea was prostrate before them. In 1598 Hideyoshi died, and the Japanese withdrew, but they left behind them a ruin from which Korea has never recovered. That, prior to that invasion, her people must have possessed a high degree of industrial and artistic skill is shown by the spoils brought back by Hideyoshi's soldiers, some of which are now among the principal ornaments of the beautiful temples at Nikko. Not only were the productions brought back, but the artists themselves, and Korea, having lost all her experts, has since then attained no higher level of industry than the manufacture of very fine matting, paper, and rather coarse brass work, and Korean art is a non-existing quantity. So deeply did the iron sink into the soul that the bitter memory of all the long-continued horrors of that invasion still lasts among the Korean peasants, who to this day speak of the Japanese as the accursed nation.'

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From the beginning of the seventeenth century Korea regularly sent embassies with tribute to Japan. But at the same time she always acknowledged the suzerainty of China and looked to China for protection from foreign foes, even for help in domestic troubles. Her religion, law, custom, and thought were always in sympathy with those of China. In 1871 Japan started on her career of Western civilisation, ostensibly, never in actual reality, flinging entirely aside at one coup every principle that had heretofore guided her. News of her action reached Korea, who not only refused to send further tribute but openly and insultingly taunted Japan with her desertion of Chinese civilisation and her adoption of the manners and customs of the despised Western barbarians. When this became publicly known an outburst of indignation caused the entire Samurai class of the people-none other was then of any political count-to clamour for a third invasion of Korea. But every interest of Japan was in favour of peace. Her resources were exhausted by her own revolutionary war; a new and inexperienced Government, ignorant of even the elementary details of international politics, and hated by a substantial section of its own people, was in office; the death knell of her old military system was already being rung, and as yet there was no new one to replace it; and facilities both of land and marine transport were entirely wanting. Wise counsels prevailed. War was not declared and Korea was left alone. The nation was, however, deeply indignant, and so far did discontent proceed that a rebellion broke out in one of the southern provinces. Continental diplomatists in Japan had at that time little knowledge of the country; scarcely a single member of the staffs of their legations had any of the language. One worthy member of the corps, reporting on the condition of affairs to his Government, stated that so great was the outburst of patriotic feeling that he scarcely ever passed through a street of the

capital without meeting a Japanese who was crying at the top of his voice, Koree! Koree!' which means, he wrote, 'To Korea! To Korea!' and who was always surrounded by many sympathisers. 'Koree,' more properly 'Kori,' is the Japanese word for ice, the taste for which in summer had just then sprung into existence, and the bellicose patriots of the worthy diplomatist, who himself gravely told what he had written at a dinner party at the British Legation, were ordinary hawkers calling out their wares. The diplomatist's accuracy and perspicuity were on a par with those of many subsequent critics of Japan, English not excepted.

Korea was left alone in her hermit-like seclusion. Nothing was known in Tokio as to what was occurring there except to the Japanese themselves, who always maintained a small settlement at Fusan, the most southern port, and they would not tell. Even then, thirty years ago, rumours of Russian activity began to gain currency, and reports were circulated that the Russians had established a basis in Korea. In 1861 they had attempted to do so on the Japanese island of Tsushima-had in fact landed, planted a flag, and erected buildings— when they were politely requested to 'move on' by an English manof-war. It was now said they were repeating this course at Korean ports, and another English man-of-war was sent to investigate the actual condition of affairs. It was the lot of the present writer, who was then on the staff of the British Legation, to be sent with her, and the outlying islands and southern ports were examined. No Russians were found anywhere. The Japanese settlement at Fusan was visited, and its condition recalled in some degree that of the old Dutch settlement at Desima, in Nagasaki, where for 200 years a few members of the Netherlands Trading Company were suffered by the Shoguns of the Tokugawa dynasty to reside and trade under very humiliating conditions. The few Japanese who were at Fusan were virtually close prisoners. The resident stated that he had not been outside the limits of the settlement for over six months. Trade was represented by an occasional junk from Tsushima, and all traffic with the natives was carried on on the outskirts of the settlement, the neighbouring Korean town being forbidden ground. In the man-ofwar, which remained in the harbour for a few days, there was naturally a desire to visit this town, but strict instructions had been given to the commander to carefully avoid everything that might entail the risk of a conflict with the natives. The Koreans are, perhaps, the most expert stone-throwers in the world, and their skill in that respect would put even a Belfast Orangeman to shame. When we were told that huge piles of stones were collected on the road to the town, with which to welcome us if we endeavoured to approach it, our curiosity had to remain ungratified. Later on in the same year (1875) an incident occurred which became the proxima causa of the opening of Korea to the world. A gunboat, while surveying the coasts, was fired on by a

small fort. The fire was promptly returned, and a landing party destroyed the fort, and brought away with it spoils of war in the shape of guns, banners, drums, &c., all of which were exhibited in the military museum at Tokio. The insult to the flag had been most amply revenged, but once more the pride of the Japanese people was keenly roused and punitive measures called for. Japan was now in a very different position to that of 1871, and felt herself able at all points to impress her will upon such a Power as Korea. A great expedition was prepared, though it was much stronger in appearance than reality; two of the ablest members of the Government, a great soldier and a still greater diplomatist, accompanied it; but when it reached Korean shores diplomacy took the place of force, and a treaty was concluded by the terms of which two ports were opened to the trade and residence of Japanese subjects. Other nations soon followed Japan's example, and Korea was at last open to the world.

Throughout all the negotiations she had been treated both by Japan and the other nations as an independent kingdom, with which diplomacy was to be conducted on a footing of perfect international equality. But, while assuming or consenting to this equality vis-àvis Japan and European Powers, Korea still clung to China's suzerainty, and China retained a controlling influence in her affairs, both foreign and domestic, an influence which was invariably exerted to keep the Koreans within their old limits of narrow-minded conservatism and prejudice. Japan was not fortunate in many respects. Rowdies of the worst class and a very offensive and truculent class it is, pace the politeness and suavity that are so eminently characteristic of the Japanese people in general-were to be found in numbers at the open ports, and their treatment of the docile, broken-spirited natives was not such as to soften the traditional hatred of the latter. In 1882 the legation at the capital was attacked and burned by a mob, and the Minister and his staff, which included a few policemen, trained to bear arms, did not escape without loss of life. Their cool courage, however, kept them together, and the majority succeeded in reaching the coast, twenty miles distant, where they were rescued by an English man-of-war that fortunately happened to be surveying in the neighbourhood. The legation was soon rebuilt and occupied, but for its protection from that time Japan claimed and exercised the right of maintaining a force of troops in the capital, just as in the early days of her own foreign intercourse England and France had both stationed troops in Yokohama to secure to their countrymen resident there the protection which could not be relied on from the tottering Government of the Shogun. This right was recognised by China, and by a convention arranged between the two countries in 1885 it was agreed that both should have the privilege of stationing troops in Korea, but that due notice should be given by each to the other of any intention to exercise it whenever it became necessary.