Notices of the proceedings at the meetings of the members of the Royal Institution of Great Britain with abstracts of the discourses . amiliar Chinese characteristics. The moon is now shining brightly, but it shows nothing new inthe aspect of the road within the walls. The main street of Seoul isas deep in clay and mud as it was at the Creation, when the watersdried up. Its houses have not altered ; they are no more than theclay huts of prehistoric man, his protection against cold or heat. I requested the bearers of my chair to walk slowly; I did notwish to lose my first impression. The first
Notices of the proceedings at the meetings of the members of the Royal Institution of Great Britain with abstracts of the discourses . amiliar Chinese characteristics. The moon is now shining brightly, but it shows nothing new inthe aspect of the road within the walls. The main street of Seoul isas deep in clay and mud as it was at the Creation, when the watersdried up. Its houses have not altered ; they are no more than theclay huts of prehistoric man, his protection against cold or heat. I requested the bearers of my chair to walk slowly; I did notwish to lose my first impression. The first sight of an unknowncountry stamps itself on our minds in a manner unique. There is afascination in the unknown—a wonderful interest attached to theunexpected. Our wanderings amongst strange peoples in the streetsof a strange city are not for the pen to describe. Everything that is uncommon is mysterious until reality tearsaside the veil; and as long as it is built up by our imagination andpeopled by her fantastic creations, so long does it remain a City ofDreams. The streets are getting broader and the clay huts grow even more. 1904.] on First Impressions of Seoul. 501 insignificant. I stop for a moment in the great square ; it may be thecentre of the city, but is little more than a cross-road leading into afew side-streets. It is scarcely seven oclock and yet over all broods a death-likesilence, a peaceful calm, as complete as one can imagine. The broadstreets seem an immense cemetery and the mean little flat-roofedhouses graves. One might think it is All Saints Day for on eachgrave a little lamp is burning. A lantern hangs from each a yellowish flame. But the people themselves—like ghosts they are returning totheir homes, each robed in white, each and all mute. Without asound they flit over the roads of this endless graveyard, until theydisappear into the depths of some one of the illuminated tombs. 1 have never been so impressed by any other city I have seen
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