Those who have seen the notorious dungeons of Canton will find the Korean prisons similar to them. Generally the courtyards of the magistrates are used for guarding the convicts. Stables are crammed with prisoners—mostly innocent. Furniture is a thing unknown, and so are all means of cleanliness.

In the Yamen of Judicature at Seoul I saw a few small private cells reserved for the better class. The inmate of one of these was a venerable-looking white-haired gentleman. He was, so the prison warder informed me, one of the wealthiest bankers in the town. "He squeezed," as he put it, "and now the mandarin is squeezing him."

Attorneys-at-law and jurists were not wanting, but in most cases the number of witnesses and their evidence was decisive—there being always any number of them at hand. In fact, giving evidence meant a living to a portion of the community, who favoured those who paid best.

The methods of punishment also varied. In most cases fines were imposed, which formed one of the principal sources of revenue to the authorities. Imprisonment was rarer. In order to save the expenses of keeping prisoners who could not pay a fine, these were often given a chance to escape, or disappeared by some other means.

Capital crimes were tried by a criminal court. Decapitation was carried out in various ways according to social position. Lèse-majesté and treason were likewise dealt with by special authorities. In this respect severity knew no bounds. With the guilty person all the members of his family had to suffer. More than once whole clans, which were suspected of being traitors or rebels, were extirpated. Hundreds of persons perished through being falsely accused of crimes.

Such was the judicature in days gone by, and no wonder that the people lost faith in judges whose sense of justice was of the lowest standard. Things seem to be improving, but a less cruel death implies cruelty all the same.

V

How did Korea educate her sons that her rule, her justice, and her people sank so low? is a question that involuntarily suggests itself.

We must at once point out that there existed no such thing as public education; as regards public instruction, Korea entirely followed the Chinese system. As in the Yellow Empire, it was only the successful passing of the various university examinations that qualified for public positions and Government offices. Here also training was purely classical. But while in China the national masters—Confucius and Menzius—were studied, Korea, without any regard for her history or literature, adopted the ready material in an unaltered form. Her own authors thus found no field for their labours, and even if endowed with talent they were unable to develop it. This condition was in many respects similar to that prevalent in Europe in the Middle Ages, when colleges paid more attention to Greek and Latin than to their national language, and when students knew more about the history of Hellas and Rome than of their own country.

The Chinese system of examination is so well known that it does not require any explanation. Prior to the final examination the students gather in Pekin. There they are walled in in small cells at the examination hall, entirely isolated from the outer world.