THE OPEN DOOR OF KOREA.
By C. C. Vinton
BY C. C. VINTON, M.D., SEOUL, KOREA. A few remarks upon the advantages enjoyed by a missionary in Korea may be especially welcome just now to those who have been accustomed to think of Korea as the far-off Hermit Kingdom, yesterday guarded at every loophole against the intrusion of a single foreign idea, to-day brought miraculously in contact with the blessings of civilization through the good office of a recently transformed neighbor. Ten years and some few months have passed since missionaries first gained a foothold in this exclusive land. In that time they have taken many steps toward an understanding of its people, customs, and institutions. One fact, early perceived, and more fully realized with fuller knowledge, is that this spirit of seclusion is not a characteristic of the people themselves, but is part of the subtle scheme by which China has held them for centuries in her toils. As the child shuns the garret because it has been told there are goblins there, so the confiding Korean has learned from generation to generation to dread contact with those outer barbarians whom his protector, the Chinaman, told him knew only guile. Once when, three hundred years ago, a horde of such barbarians actually gained an entrance and overran his land, he found it quite as the Chinaman had said. Now the Korean, when left to himself, is not by any means an exclusive individual, as his Chinese neighbor seems naturally to be. His dislike of foreigners is based really upon ignorance, and whatever grounds have been thought to exist for the opposite view may be readily explained by his failure to understand the foreigner, and the foreigner's failure to understand him. Simple and childlike in all but the mark of sin the evil one has stamped upon him, the native Korean is ready to sit at the feet of whoever will instruct him. At China's feet he has sat thus long because she has constrained him by force and persuaded him by arts. She has told him that her knowledge, her faith, and her customs are all-sufficient, and all others false and bad; and he has believed her because he had no means of knowing otherwise, except to let in the very evils against whose entrance she persistently warned him. In these more recent years the missionary has come to be able in some degree to put himself in the place of his neighbor. He understands somewhat better the modes of thought, the ambitions, the various pursuits and employments, the family life, and the superstitions of those around him. If he has not come to feel as they do, he can at least appreciate in many respects their feelings; and, on the other hand, they, if they do not appreciate his, have lost no small measure of their distrust for him. They have gotten to understand how large a measure of humanity is common to mankind, and so have joined in seeking a possible plane of mutual intercourse. It is due, perhaps, to this gradually changing attitude most of all, that the door has been opened so widely of late to admit the Christian preacher. That such is the case no one doubts who is cognizant of the facts. The missionaries' ability to present the Gospel acceptably and the native's willingness to receive it have increased many fold within a few years. Korea's door was from the outset said to stand wide open; and it did. From the day when Dr. Allen first opened that door at the point of his lancet, the missionary has gone freely in and out. He has been forbidden to preach publicly, never privately. He has conducted educational enterprises in government employ as well as under the home board. He has freely treated and conversed with patients of high and of low degree alike. He has enjoyed perfect freedom of travel and of quiet intercourse with the people. Many in official circles have listened to the explanation of Christian truth, as well as those of lesser degree; and many of the people heard gladly and praised the doctrine, and made little objection, and—failed to believe. It was as the seed that fell upon stony places. The door was indeed open, but few regarded him that entered. The door may be no wider open to-day, but they that are within give better heed. The formal prohibition of public preaching is not removed, but it has long become a dead letter, so that foreign missionaries and native evangelists discourse freely to few or many, by the roadside, in the hostelry, or in established chapels. The schools now number their pupils by scores instead of by singles, and hours of Bible study replace those formerly given of necessity to heathen classics. Patients refuse less often the surgeon's knife, recognizing that his dependence is on God. Where preaching before was barren, inquirers are wont to appear. Scattered literature begins to fructuate in readers seeking further light. A better soil has been reached. Korea not only admits, but welcomes. The nation is in expectation. They look for the changing of all that is past. They are not more wedded to their old religious ideas than to those of daily social observance. The nation never had a religion—only a superstition. With scholars it is the following12of the precepts of Confucius; with the common people, the propitiation of local spirits. Shall ever a more favorable season occur for the wide uprooting of these beliefs and the presentation of Christian truth? What is to hinder?—Chiefly the lack of workers.—Condensed from Missionary Review.