It now devolved upon the king of Chō-sen to explain to his suzerain the execution of a Chinese subject. In a letter full of Confucian orthodoxy, he declares that Chō-sen from the time of Ki Tsze, had admitted no other dogmas than those taught by the sages of China—“all other doctrine is strange to the Little Kingdom.” He describes the Christians as “the monstrous, barbarous, and infamous” “sect of brigands” “who live like brutes and birds of the vilest sort,” and who in their plot, “have interlaced themselves as a serpent and knotted themselves together like a cord.” The plan to conquer “the Little Kingdom [[358]]at the corner of the earth” by myriads of men and vessels from Europe is detailed, with an apology for the execution of Jacques, not as a Chinese subject, but as chief conspirator. Dallet suggests that, in answer to this letter, the Dragon Monarch read the king a tart lecture, and hinted that a rich stream of silver would soothe his ruffled scales. “China had not been China had she lost so fair an occasion to fleece her cowering vassal.”
A fresh edict, made up of the usual fixed ammunition of Corean rhetoric, was fulminated against “the evil sect,” January 25, 1802. The result was to advertise the outlawed faith in every corner of the realm. Nevertheless, the condition of the Christians scattered in the mountains and northern forests, or suffering poverty, hunger, and cold at home, was deplorable, under the stress of political as well as religious hatred.
The first exchange of Muscovite and Corean courtesies took place in 1808, when several of the commissioners from Seoul were in Peking.[7] Presents were mutually given, which in both cases were products of the then widely separated countries, which were destined within fifty years to be next-door neighbors.
Out of the modern catacombs of Roman Christianity, the Corean converts addressed two letters, dated December 9 and 18, 1811, to the Pope—“the Very High, Very Great Father, Chief of the whole Church”—in which they invited help, not only of a spiritual nature, but aid in ships and envoys to treat with their king. They were willing even to leave their native land and colonize the islands in the sea, for the sake of worship and conscience. Signed with fictitious names, copied on silk, and sewn in the clothing of the messenger, they reached Peking and Rome, but the bishop of neither city could afford succor. His Holiness was then a prisoner at Fontainebleau, and the Roman propaganda was nearly at a standstill. With a goodly supply of medals and crosses, the messenger returned, and the church in Corea enjoyed peace, and new converts were made until 1815, when a non-political persecution broke out for a while in Kang-wen and Kiung-sang.
In 1817, the king and court were terrified by the appearance off [[359]]the west coast of the British[8] vessels Alceste and Lyra. They suspected that the good captain and jolly surgeon, who have given us such fascinating narratives of their cruise, were in active connection with “the evil sect;” but beyond some surveys, purchases of beef, and interviews with local magistrates, the foreigners departed without further designs against the throne.
In 1823 several of the Christians, encouraged by hopes held out by the Bishop of Peking, went to the Border Gate to meet a foreign priest, but to their dismay found none. In 1826,[9] they were troubled by a report that the shō-gun of Japan had requested their king to return six Japanese adherents of the interdicted “Jesus sect,” who had fled the empire in a boat. Shortly after, in Chulla, through a quarrel instigated by a drunken potter, a convert, which led to information given in spite, a severe persecution broke out, lasting three months.
The year 1832 was noted for its rainfall and inundations. To propitiate Heaven’s favor the king recalled many exiles, among whom were Christians. In this year also the British ship, Lord Amherst, was sent out by the East India Company on a voyage of commercial exploration, and to open, if possible, new markets for the fabrics of England and India. On board was a Prussian gentleman, the Rev. Charles Gutzlaff, under the patronage of the Netherlands Missionary Society, though travelling at his own cost. Reaching the coast of Chulla, July 17th, he remained one month. Being a good Chinese scholar, and well equipped with medical knowledge, he landed on several of the islands and on the mainland, he distributed presents of books, buttons, and medicines, planted potatoes and taught their cultivation. Through an officer he sent the king presents of cut glass, calicoes, and woollen goods, with a copy of the Bible and some Protestant Christian tracts. These, after some days of negotiation, were refused. A few of the more intelligent natives risked their heads, and accepted various gifts, among which were Chinese translations [[360]]of European works on geography and mathematics. Mr. Gutzlaff could discover no trace of Christianity[10] or the converts, though he made diligent inquiry. The lying magistrates denied all knowledge of even the existence of the Christian faith. Deeply impressed with their poverty, dirt, love of drink, and degradation, the Protestant, after being nearly a month among the Coreans, left their shores, fully impressed with their need of soap and bibles.
The year 1834 closed the first half century of Corean Christianity.
In this chapter, the moral weakness of Roman Catholic methods of evangelization in Corea, and elsewhere in Asia, has been revealed. It must be remembered that the Corean converts were taught to believe not only in the ecclesiastical supremacy of the Pope, but also in the righteousness of his claim to temporal power as the Vicar of Heaven. Untaught in the Scriptures of the New Testament, and doubtless ignorant of the words of Jesus—“My kingdom is not of this world; if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight”—the Coreans suspected no blasphemy in the papal claim. Seeing the Pope’s political power upheld by the powerful European nations then under Bourbon rule, the Corean Christians, following the ethics of their teachers, played the part of traitors to their country; they not only deceived the magistrates, and violated their country’s laws, but, as the letter of Alexander Wang shows, actually invited armed invasion. Hence from the first Christianity was associated in patriotic minds with treason and robbery. The French missionary as the forerunner of the French soldier and invader, the priest as the pilot of the gunboat, were not mere imaginings, but, as the subsequent narrative shows, strict logic and actual fact. It is the narrative of friends, not foes, that, later, shows us a bishop acting as spy and pilot on a French man-of-war, a priest as guide to a buccaneering raid; and, after the story of papal Christianity, the inevitable “French expedition.” [[361]]