Korea (Hamilton)/Chapter 22

The history of missionary enterprise in Korea abounds in illustrations of the remarkable manner in which French missionaries may be relied upon to offer up their lives for their country. It may be cynical to say so, yet there is much reason to believe that the Roman Catholic priests in the Far East of to-day are the agents provocateurs of their Government. They promote anarchy and outrage, even encompassing their own deaths, whenever the interests of their country demand it. From the beginnings of Christianity in China they have wooed the glory of martyrdom, and they have repeated the process in Korea.

Christianity made its way into Korea about 1777, by the ​chance arrival of a packet of translations in Chinese of the works of the Jesuits in Pekin. From this small beginning the ideas spread, until the King's Preceptor was compelled to fulminate a public document against this new belief. Finding this insufficient, examples were made of prominent enthusiasts. Many were tortured; and others condemned to perpetual exile. Persecution continued until 1787; but the work of proselytism proceeded, despite the injurious attentions which converts received from the public executioners.

The first attempt of a foreign missionary to enter Korea was made in 1791. It was not until three years later, however, that any Western evangelist succeeded in evading the vigilance of the border sentinels. Where one came others naturally followed, undeterred by the violent deaths which so many of these intrepid Christians had suffered. While the French missionaries were prosecuting their perilous labours, in the face of the undisguised hostility of the great proportion of the people, and losing their lives as the price of this work, the walls of isolation which Korea had built around herself were gradually sapped. Ships from France, Russia and Great Britain touched her shores during their explorations and trading ventures in the Yellow Sea. Under the association of ideas which sprang from the appearance of these strange ships, the Koreans grew accustomed to the notion that their world was not limited by the resources of their own country and the more distant territories of China. However, judging the sailors who fell into their hands by the standards of the French priests, who had set every law in the land at defiance, they at once killed them. This practice continued until 1866, when word reached the Admiral of a French squadron at Tientsin of the slaughter ​of his compatriots in Korea. Upon receipt of the news, an expedition was prepared, of itself an early manifestation of that policy by which the French Government is inspired in its dealings with missionaries and missionary questions in countries, the development of whose geographical or industrial peculiarities may be turned to advantage.

For many centuries the land was without any accepted religious doctrine. Buddhism, which existed for one thousand years before the present dynasty came to the throne, had fallen into disfavour; the tenets of Confucius did not completely satisfy the minds of the upper classes, and Shamanism was the worship of the more primitive masses. The moment was ripe for the introduction of a more practical philosophy, and in time, as the gospel of Christianity spread, opposition to the great creed of humanitarianism lessened. Toleration of the many phases of Western belief is now general, the Korean finding in the profession of Christianity an easy means of evading the exactions of the officials. Nevertheless, the diffusion of Christianity is not unattended with bloodshed and disaster. Apart from this drawback to the propagation of Christian beliefs in Korea, it may be doubted whether the methods of the various missionary bodies bear the impress of that spirit of charity which should illustrate their teaching. Without impugning the individual attainments of any of the many missionary groups who administer to the needs of the Koreans, I find it difficult to affirm that the principles of self-abnegation so manifest in the lives of the Roman Catholic priests and the workers of the Church of England Mission, are equally in evidence in the comfortable existence which is led by the well-paid attachés of the American Mission Boards. The French priests live in abject poverty; ​striving to identify themselves with the conditions of their flock, they accept neither holiday nor reward as compensation for their services. In this bare comparison of the principles of ministration, I do not wish, at the moment, to venture into the domain of controversy, but merely to convey some impression of the competing systems of procedure.

The Church of England Mission, which has become known as the English Mission, under the direction of Bishop Corfe has adopted a system of communism. The expenses of board, lodging, clothing, laundry and fuel are met from a common fund, quarterly remitted from the Mission Treasurer to the responsible head of each Mission House. In proportion to the number of residents, the expenditure is returnable upon a pro rata calculation of about £70 per head per annum. This estimate includes the cost of the male staff. The proportionate rate of expenditure in respect of the lady workers of the English Mission is one-third of this annual disbursement less. The depôts of the Mission are situated at Seoul, Chemulpo, Mok-po, and Kang-wha; in addition to the stations in Korea, a chaplaincy is maintained in New-chwang. The chief centre of activity of this Mission is upon the island of Kang-wha. The task of improving the condition of the very poor, by means of education, kindness and patience, proceeds quietly at Chemulpo and Seoul too, where particular attention is given to the welfare of the sick. At one time, there were important dispensary and hospital institutes in these places, the medical establishment at Chemulpo, however, is now abandoned.

The members of this Mission endure no little privation in the primitive simplicity of their surroundings. Their ​services, on the other hand, display much unnecessary pomp; and the white, full-skirted cassock with rough hempen girdle, which they wear in public and private, emphasises their ritualistic tendencies, and is, to my mind, somewhat of an affectation. Nevertheless, in their daily practice, those associated with the Church of England Mission in Korea set before themselves that standard of idealism in missionary enterprise which is represented by the unnecessary sacrifices, the sublime heroism, and fortitude distinguishing the priests of the Roman Catholic Church, a standard, I am compelled to admit, that other missions in the Far East—American, English, Scotch, and Irish—appear incapable of realising.

The American missionary in the Far East is a curious creature. He represents a union of devices which have made him a factor of considerable commercial importance. American missionaries in Korea were formerly closely associated with the more important export houses in the leading industrial centres of America. Owing to diplomatic representation this practical demonstration of Western superiority is no longer openly indulged. In Seoul, however, an American missionary inconsiderately receives paying guests, causing a manifest loss of business to the Station Hotel; in Won-san, another exploits his orchard. As a class they are necessarily newspaper correspondents and professional photographers; upon rare occasions—and here I refer especially to a small coterie of American missionaries in Seoul—they are the scholarly students of the history, manners, customs and language of the country in which they happen to be placed.

The American missionary has a salary which frequently exceeds £200 a year, and is invariably pleasantly supplemented ​by additional allowances. Houses and servants are provided free, or grants are made for house rent; there is a provision for the education of the children, and an annual capitation payment is made for each child. As a class, American missionaries have large families, who live in comparative idleness and luxury. In Korea, they own the most attractive and commodious houses in the foreign settlements, and appear to me to extract from their surroundings the maximum of profit for the minimum of labour. I do not know whether it is with the permission of the executive officers of the American Mission Boards that their representatives combine commerce with their mission to the heathen. When a missionary devotes no little portion of his time to literary labours, to the care of an insurance agency, to the needs of a fruit farm, or to the manifold exigencies of casual commerce, it seems to me that the interests of those who sit in darkness must suffer.

American mission agents have made Korea their peculiar field. Converts, who prattle of Christianity in a marked American accent, are among the features of the capital in the twentieth century. Mission centres, which have been created in a number of places, now show signs of prosperity. They enlist no little practical sympathy and support from the native population. The self-supporting character of much of the missionary work in Korea bears out the spirit of toleration which distinguishes the attitude of the people towards the propaganda. It is not to be supposed that the work of the missionaries is agreeable to all shades of native opinion. Riots and bloodshed disfigure the path of proselytism, the credulity of the natives entailing heavy sacrifices of life. The disturbances which have thus marked the spread of Christianity in Korea, notably in the anti-Christian rising in ​Quelpart, a few months ago, are due to the jealousy with which the heathen mass of the population regard the protection from official rapacity, enjoyed by those who accept The Light.

In the case of Quelpart, this feeling of animosity, and the immunity from taxation which the French priests gave to their following, created an intolerable position. Anarchy swept over the island, and some six hundred believers were put summarily to death. Whatever may be the compensating advantages of this martyrdom, the reckless and profligate sacrifice of life, which missionary indiscretion in the Far East has promoted, is an outrage upon modern civilisation. We have passed through one terrible anti-Christian upheaval in China, and, if we wish to avoid another such manifestation, it is necessary to superintend all forms of missionary enterprise more closely. This, however, can be done only by legislative supervision, imposing restraint in the direction which recent events have indicated. It is imperative that certain measures should be adopted in missionary work which will ensure the safety of the individual zealot, and be agreeable to the general comfort of the community. It is unfortunate, but inevitable, that such reforms must be radical. The violence of missionary enterprise during recent years has been altogether unbridled. The great activity of the different societies, resulting from their unrestricted liberty, has recoiled most fatally upon the more indefatigable, as well as upon the heads of many wholly innocent of any unwarrantable religious persecution. The time has come, therefore, when vigorous restrictions should chasten this vigorous, polemical proselytism. The practice of scattering missionaries broadcast over the interior of these Far Eastern countries should not continue; the assent ​of the local Consul and a representative council of the Foreign Ministers should be required in every case. Moreover, it would be wiser, if, under no conceivable

circumstances, single women were permitted to proselytise beyond the carefully prescribed treaty limits of the different settlements. Again, missionaries with families, as well as single women, should not be allowed to live beyond the areas of these neutral zones.

These restraints upon missionary labours of course would be resented. If the total number of lives which have been lost in Korea, China, and Japan, by the interference of Western missionaries, were published, their vast aggregate would reveal to the unthinking masses of the public how urgent is the need for strong action. Such restraint is morally justifiable by the appalling massacres with which ​the world is now familiar. The blind perseverance of the missionary has frequently brought about the simultaneous baptism and crucifixion of the convert. What more does the fanatical enthusiast wish than that some one should be thus doubly glorified by his means? The increasing death-roll among masters and pupils supplies the only necessary argument for immediate rectification of the entire system of missionary enterprise.