TRANSACTIONS

OF THE
KOREA BRANCH
OF THE
ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY

VOLUME XXXVIII

Supplied gratis to all members of the Society Korea Branch, Royal Asiatic Society
P O Box Central 255
Seoul, Korea
October 1961

CONTENTS
Page
THE FLOWER BOYS OF SILLA (HWARANG)
Notes on the sources
by Richard Rutt 1
SOME NOTES ON THE SONGGYUN’GWAN
by Kim Chongguk and Kim Chinman 69
THE HAN-SAN-WEI-I PRINCIPLE IN FAR EASTERN SOCIETIES
by David Chung 95
TABLES OF THE McCUNE-REISCHAUER SYSTEM FOR THE ROMANIZATION OF KOREAN
121
LIST OF OFFICERS FOR 1961 129
THE FLOWER BOYS OF SILLA (HWARANG)
Notes on the sources
By Father Richard Rutt
(盧 大 榮 神 父)

[page 1]
PREFACE

So far as I can discover only three books have been devoted to the study of hwarang. The
earliest, and in many ways the most interesting and attractive, was Volume 4 of the Zakko (雜攷) of the
Japanese amateur scholar resident of Korea, Ayukai Fusanomosuke (鮎貝房之進). Subtitled Karogo (花
郞 攷 ), it was published in Seoul in 1932. It includes practically all the references to Korean sources
which are needed for a complete study of the subject.
Mishina Shoei (三品彰英 ) published his Shiragi Kara no Kenkyu (新羅花郞 の 研究 ), after
previously publishing a number of articles on the subject, in Tokyo in 1943. This is a larger work than
Ayukai’s and attempts a more systematic presentation of the subject. Otherwise its chief contribution is
the vast amount of comparative anthropological material which Mishina adduces.
The third work is in Korean, the Hwarangdo Yŏn’gu ( 花 郞 道 研 究 ) of Yi Sŏn’gŭn ( 李 瑄 根 )
published in Seoul in 1949. This work is of quite a different character, more in the nature of an essay on
the spirit of hwarang as it appealed at the time of publication to Korea’s burgeoning nationalism. Much of
the book is frankly speculative about the legacy of hwarang ideals in later centuries.
I have not been able to give the attention that is needed to the post-Silla references to hwarang.
There is more than enough material here for another paper. But I do not believe, from what I have read in
it, that it will in any way alter our opinions about the hwarang of the Golden Age.
R.R.
Seoul September 1961

[page 2]
THE FLOWER BOYS OF SILLA (花郞)

I. Introductory

The hwarang ideal has become a favourite symbol of modern Korea. It has been used as the
name of a Youth Corps, it has been used in the name of the Army Officers Training School, as the name
of a high military decoration and as the brand name of the cigarettes issued for the armed forces; it is the
name of a bar in the Bando Hotel, and has been used as a professional name by a popular musician. It has
a ring of romance and chivalry, a tone of national pride, in the two Chinese characters with which it is
written a blend of masculinity and grace that makes it very suitable for all these purposes.
The usual translation offered for hwarang is “Flower of Youth” and the usual description of
what the historical hwarang were is given as “an order of knighthood (or something similar) in the Silla
dynasty.” Unfortunately the translation does violence to normal grammar of Chinese phrases and the
description represents an idea that has grown up during the last thirty years. This paper is concerned with
investigating something of what the truth about the hwarang really was.
The confusion of thinking about hwarang in Korea could scarcely be better illustrated than by
the references to the subject in the Unesco Korean Survey.l) Hwarang are mentioned in nine places. There
is a variety of interpretations placed on the word, and in several cases statements are made which have
little or no relation to any historical evidence we have with regard to hwarang. Always the institution of
hwarang is presented in an idealized and noble light.

1) Seoul 1960.

[page 3]
A typical instance of the current Korean interpretation of hwarang may be quoted from the entry
under this word in Tong-a’s New Encyclopedia. (The translation is my own.)

Hwarang. Leader of a military band of the Silla era. Chosen from the young sons of the nobility by
popular election. Belonged in hundreds or thousands to the hwarang bands. Origin not clear, but
presumably from the young mens’ bands of the Han tribes. Sadaham who raised an army for the
suppression of Kara in 562 is the beginning of hwarang history. Basic ideal was complete loyalty to the
nation, righteouness and bravery. Frequently visiting mountain beauty spots they were also called
kukson. Their activity was also called p’ungnyu or p’ungwolto. The five hwarang command-ments
were: serve the king with loyalty, serve parents with piety, be faithful to friends, never retreat in battle,
preserve life when possible.

This is by no means unfair as a summary of what most Koreans think of hwarang. Hence it
comes as rather a surprise to find in Arthur Waley’s translation of the Chinese Book of Songs one of
the rare English references to hwarang.
Waley is annotating his own translation of the archaic Chinese poem;

山有扶蘇 山有橋松
陽有荷華 隰有游龍
不見子都 不見子充
乃見狂且 乃見狡童 3)

He translates the last two characters of the stanzas as “madman” and “mad boy” respectively, so that
the song is that of a girl who seeks for her ideal, called Tzŭ-tu ( 子都) or Tzŭ-ch’ung (子充), but in fact
can see only “a mad boy.”

2) 새 백과사전, Seoul 1959.

3) Shih-ching, I. vii. x. (詩. 風. 鄭 10)

[page 4]
Waley comments :
The ‘madmen’ were young men dressed up in black jackets and red skirts who ‘searched in the
houses and drove out pestilences.’ (Cf. Commentary on Tso Chuan chronicle; Duke Min, second
year. For the medley garb of these ‘wild men,’ see Kuo Yu, the story of Prince Shen-sheng of Chin.)
In order to do this they must have been armed, for disease demons are attacked with weapons, just
like any other enemy. It is therefore not surprising that the Chou Li (Chapter 54) lists them among
the various categories of armed men...... Closely analogous were the famous “Flower Boys” of
Korea, who reached their zenith in the sixth century A.D....... This is presumably the song with
which the people in the house greeted the exorcists.4)

Although Waley speaks only of an analogy, his reference to hwarang is stimulating enough to
prompt one to a further investigation of his material. The immediate result is rather disappointing. Of his
three references to Chinese sources two are fairly obviously discovered in that wellknown and popular
dictionary, the Tzu-hai (辭海). There under k’uanp-fu (狂夫), and not under the adjacent k’uang-chu (狂
且 , the phrase in the poem under discussion), will be found the reference to the Tso Chuan. The
dictionary identifies k’uang-fu with fang-shang-shih. The Tzu-hai entry under fang-hsiang-shih (方相氏)
gives the reference to the Chou Li, 5) where the fang-hsiang-shih is described as a shaman or exorcist who
wore bearskins and a mask with four golden eyes, as well as the red and black clothes. The reference to
the Kuo Yu6) telling the tale of Prince Shen-sheng (申生) is in fact a doublet of the passage given from the
Chu Hsi editions of the Tso Chuan,7) and is therefore not an

4) A. Waley, The Book of Songs (London, 1937) p. 222.

5) 厢夏官, 方相氏
6) 國語 卷七 晋語ᅳ 獻公十七年
7) 左傳 閔公 二年 附錄

[page 5]
additional reference at all. It does not describe the motley clothes either.
It is not my present purpose to evaluate Mr Waley’s interpretation of the Chinese Book of Songs,
though I think that solely by the evidence adduced in these notes he has not made a very strong case for
his interpretation on this point It is interesting that he has drawn attention to some points of similarity
between hwarang and ancient Chinese exorcists. Perhaps he was unaware of the place of the bear in
primitive Korean myth, or he might have been tempted to link the hwarang with Tan’gun (檀君). Also it
must be noted that all his texts date from at least the 3rd or 4th century B.C. and purport to describe
institutions of three or more centuries earlier. Thus his Chinese shamans must be at least nine centuries,
and probably more, earlier than our Korean hwarang as known to history. There is no reason why they
should not be, as he says, “analogous”, but we have not much to justify the comparison.
In some ways much more fascinating is the attention he also draws 8) to an analogy with a
Rumanian institution, which he developed at some length in the Journal of the English Folk Dance and
Song Society.9) The Rumanians are the Calusari dancers, who appeared in London at the International
Folk Dance Festival of 1935 and created something of a sensation by their religious attitude as well as by
their technique.
The description of the Calusari is given by Professor Vuia, who accompanied them. He points
out the strong slavic element in their dances and myth, and lists among the names of their dances such
interesting words as Călusul, Floricica, and even Floricica Călusului. These would mean respectively
“little horse”, “little flower” and “flower of the little horse”. They represent the fairies of

8) Op. cit., ibid.

9) Journal of the English Folk Dance and Song Society, London, 1935, P. 107

[page 6]
the waters, woods and hills. They carry wooden sticks representing swords. They are supposed to have
power to heal. They have a tabu concerning water. They sometimes used a hobbyhorse, and formerly used
flowers in their dancing. Though they are all male, they have a tradition that female impersonation was
once a part of their performance. Nowadays (that is in 1935) their chief connection is with the departed
and they have been baptized into the church as a Whitsuntide observance.
Mr Waley supplies a note: “An Ancient Korean Parallel to the Călusari”, in which he relies
entirely on an article by Mishina Akiyoshi (三品彰英) 1) in Rekishi to Chiri (歷史 と 地理) 1930. At this
point it will be enough to note that he points to parallels with the hwarang in that the hwarang have a
foundation myth about two women, one of whom drowned the other in a stream; that dancing was one of
their chief pursuits; that one of their titles was kuksŏn, which Waley translates as “national fairy”; and
that they have some military connections.
 It is tempting to draw all these things together and posit a common origin in Central Asia for the
hwarang and the călusari, but the necessary material is lacking, and Mr Waley can do more than point
out the parallel. In itself it is interesting.
But our purpose is to see what can be discovered about the hwarang themselves from the
evidence available. It is slight. Indeed it must be admitted that it is only in the last two generations that
Koreans themselves have become much aware of the hwarang and have elevated them to a position of
symbolic importance in the national culture. The traditional treatment of the evidence has usually been
very confucian in tone and

1)The name is given thus by Waley. In the Korean Studies Guide (University of California Press, 1954) it is given as
“Mishina Akihide”. But in the colophon to his own definitive book on hwarang (see below, page 10, note 8) the
furigana reading is given as “Mishina Shoei.”

[page7]
therefore to some extent misleading. But before treating of the texts we should pay some attention to the
work of lexicographers and get some of the terms clear.

II. Vocabulary

a. Hwarang (花郎)

First of all there is the word hwarang (花郞) itself. The translation “flower boy” is probably the
best, because it begs fewest questions as to the real meaning of the word, is literal and does no violence to
either Chinese or Korean grammar. (The translation “flower of youth” is certainly grammatically, and
possibly semantically, false).
Professor Yang Chudong (梁柱東)2) has declared that the original form of the word was simply
the first half of it, the hwa (花). He does not explain why this title should have been used, nor why in later
times the usual form of the title hwarang suffixed to a proper name should have been -rang (郞) and not
hwa. He regards the character as having the same value in old Korean as it had in Chinese. He does not
discuss the possibility that it may have been a way of writing some native Korean syllable.
Professor Yang’s argument is long and highly technical. It will be sufficient here to outline his
conclusions. He believes hwa (花) was the original title, that the forms hwarang (both 花郞 and 花娘, the
second character intended to distinguish the sexes, though there is confusion, for instance, in the Samguk
Yusa accounts) and hwado (花徒) are essentially the same and represent a form pronounced hwanae, a
collective noun comparable to the modern honorific (though steadily declining) classifier -nae ( 내 ).
Wonhwa ( 原 花 or 源 花 ) can be reversed to form hwawon ( 花 原 or 花 源 ), and is equivalent to the
pronunciation hwaan (화안) and cognate with hwahan (written as 花主) and hwap’an (花判) which are
titles of ranks.

2) Koga Yŏn’gu(古歌研究) 2nd edition, Seoul 1960, pp. 372 ff.

[page8]
It seems impossible to go further than Dr Yang in discussing the original meaning of hwarang at
present.
However the modern dictionaries are not yet done with the word. We find that they give the
variant form hwarangi ( 화 랑 이 ) with or without the Chinese characters used in writing it, to mean a
brilliantly dressed singer and dancer, similar to the kwangdae ( 광 대 ). The emphasis is on the pretty
clothes and the dancing. There is a variant form hwaraengi, and also hwaryangi (화랭이, 화량이) but
these are regular local deviations.
 In colloquial usage there is also hwallyangi (or one of the above forms) or even hwanyangnom
(화냥놈) meaning a playboy and a lazy goodfornothing, and also the word hwaryangnyon (화량년), or
something within the range of expected variations, meaning a slut or prostitute. I have met Koreans who
say that it may refer to a male prostitute, but it is more normally used as given, with a pseudo-Chinese
reading ( 花 娘 女 ), by Gale in his Korean-English Dictionary, and is the same as can be heard in the
expression hwaryangjil (화량질) meaning illicit liaison, and the colloquial description of the lily-of-the-
valley flower, hwanyangnydnui sokkot karangi ( 화 량 년 의 속 것 가 랑 이 ) or “courtesan’s petticoats
showing.” This meaning can be traced back as far as the Kyerim Yusa (鷄林類事), a Chinese wordlist
believed to date from the 11th century.
Lastly there is the meaning of shaman or shaman’s husband. This occurs in the forms hwarang,
hwarangi, hwaraengi in various cases. The earliest recorded instance of it is in the Hunmong Chahoe (訓
蒙字會), a list of Chinese characters for teaching to children, compiled with notes and an introduction by
Ch’oe Sejin (崔世珍) in 1527, though Mr Nam Kwang-u3) also notes its appearance

3) Nam Kwang-u (南資祐); Koŏ Sajŏn(古語辭典), Seoul 1960.

[page9]
in Chibong Yusŏl (芝峰類說) a collection of notes and stories published in 1614. In Hunmong Chahoe
and Wae-o Yuhae (倭語類解) an eighteenth century Japanese grammar by Son Sunmyŏng (孫舜明), it is
given as the meaning of the Chinese character 覡, pronounced kyŏk (격), meaning a male shaman.
Murayama Chijun (村山智順) in his survey of Korean shamanism 4) lists hwarang (romanised as
pharang) as a word for a male mudang. Interestingly enough he also lists kwangdae as a male shaman
title. Among the areas in which he notes the word as being in use at the time of his collection of materials
are Chinch’ŏn (鎭川),Yŏngch’ ŏn (永川), P’ohang (浦項), Masan (馬山), and Hadong (河東), with an
interesting variation of hwanam (花男)in Hwanghae Province.5) This gives a fairly even distribution for
the word across central and southeastern Korea. It is doubtful whether Murayama’s investigations were at
this point exhaustive enough to be conclusive, and the word was probably in use elsewhere as well, but
the area indicated is precisely the area that is the legatee of Silla culture, and there is no reason to believe
that the word hwarang for a shaman is of separate origin from the name of the historical hwarang.
This point is, however, brought out clearly in Akamatsu and Akiba’s work on Korean shamanism, 6)
where they point out that hwarang is also used to describe a female shaman’s husband, especially when
he plays, sings, or dances to accompany his wife. Suggesting that hwarang meaning shaman’s husband is
commonest in the provinces of Chungch’ŏng, North Kyŏngsang and Kangwŏn, they go on to say that it is
used to mean a male shaman in South Kyŏngsang and the Chŏllas. This is in

4) Murayama Chijun (村山智順), Chosen no Fugeki (朝鮮の巫覡). Keijo. Chosen Sotokufu, 1932, page 22.
5) Op. cit., pp. 26 ff.
6) Akamatsu and Akiba (赤松智城, 秋葉隆) Chosen Fuzoku no Kenkyu (朝鲜巫俗の研究) Keijo 1938. Vol II,
pages 31-2.

[page10]
sharp distinction to the quite different words used in more northerly parts of Korea where the tradition of
Silla is weakest or non-existent.
So we have the word hwarang remaining common Korean usage until the twentieth century, but
in more or less unsavoury connections — sorcery, laziness, laxity, and the life of the mountebank.

b. Kuksŏn (國仙)
 A word that also appears in the modern dictionaries is kuksŏn ( 國 仙 ). They give it the same
meaning as hwarang in its historical sense. It is a word with religious overtones that cannot be missed,
ana it is very hard to translate it satisfactorily into English. The basic meaning of sŏn is that of a fairy or
an immortal, someone who has achieved great longevity, hence a hermit-sage, or a deified person. The
character as written suggests a mountain man; and it is closely connected with taoist concepts.
As applied to the hwarang it first appears in the Samguk Yusa (三國遺事),7) and is connected
with other uses such as sŏllang (仙郞) and sŏndo (仙徒). Sometimes the character even stands alone as in
sasŏn (四仙). But in the Samguk yusa it is placed in conjunction with the story of the Maitreya Buddha,
who there appears as a sŏnhwa (仙花).
Mishina Shoei, in his definitive work on hwarang8) gives a long but inconclusive discussion of
the significance of this name. 9) He suggests that the beautiful clothes of the flower boys may have
suggested the title of fairy, and he notes that much of their activity was connected with mountains. He
draws attention to the

7) See below page 15.

8) Mishina Shoei (三品彰英), Chosen Kodai Kenkyu Dai ichi-bu: Shiragi Karo no Kenkyu (朝鲜古代研究第ᅳ部
新羅花郞の研究) Tokyo 1943. This is the standard work on the subject of hwarang, and I have made much use
of it. Referred to hereafter as SKK.
9) SKK pages 246 ff.

[page11]
fact that the term kuksŏn is not used in the Samguk Sagi but only in the Samguk Yusa and subsequent
writings. He concludes that it was a title which came into use later.
Professor Yang, however, draws attention in a note 1) to the use of the same character sŏn (イ山)
in the name of one of the official ranks of Koguryŏ, the hŭbŭi sŏnin2) (皂衣仙人), the “fragrant-clothed
men” ᅳ though the first character is sometimes read as cho (皁) meaning “black” instead of “fragrant.”
He concludes that sŏn represents the native Korean san meaning “a man” as in the modern words sanai
( 사 나 이 ) or sŏnbae ( 선 배 ), so that the characters kuksŏn really represent the Korean word pŭlsăn,
meaning, presumably, “a singing man.”
Waley3) translated the phrase as “national fairy,” believing that it was analogous to the primatial
buddhist title kuksa and represented the highest rank of hwarang, but in this he was, possibly, mistaken.
Nevertheless it seems that for English translation it is hard to better the word “fairy,”
remembering that fairies in the Orient are mystic beings that have little in common with the gauzy wraiths
of romantic ballet or “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. There seems to have been good cause for the
choice of sŏn (仙) meaning “fairy” rather than sŏn (先) meaning “elder” in writing kuksŏn for hwarang,
whereas the latter character was used as an alternative in the case of the Koguryŏ rank mentioned above.
The translation “singing man” would be no less misleading if it carried no comment to explain it.

c. P’ungnyu(風流), p’ungwŏl(風月)

Pungnyu (風流) and p’ungwŏlto (風月道): are two phrases that are constantly used in connection
with the activities of the hwarang. They are also hard to translate

1) Op. cit. p. 528

2) Samguk Sagi (三國史記 卷四十 職官下外 also 卷十五 太祖 and 次大王)
3) Op cit., cf above page 5, note 9.

[page12]
and do not make good sense if taken according to the normal values of the Chinese characters used. They
certainly seem to mean the same thing. In modern usage, Chinese and Korean, they have come to have a
wanton and erotic connotation, and also to mean “elegant” or “poetic.” In contemporary Korean,
p’ungnyugaek (風流客) means a poet who delights in the beauties of nature and scenery. He is expected
to delight also in the pleasures of the cup, after the example of the best poets of T’ang. P’ungwŏlto
means, literally, “the way of the wind and the moon,” and suggests poetic romanticism. Whatever we may
be able to discover about the possible Korean words for which these Chinese characters are made to do
phonetic duty, it seems hard to believe that the characters were chosen entirely without reference to their
semantic content. The real meaning may be other than what the Chinese suggests, as in the cases of
hwarang and kuksŏn, but the meaning of the Chinese characters will suggest an overtone to the original
Korean sense.
We cannot, however, overlook the fact that in Korea the word p’ungnyu (風流) has a meaning
that the Japanese furyu and Chinese feng-liu, written with the same characters, do not have. This is the
sense of “music”, due to the use of the characters as an transcription of the old Korean word for singing, 5)
pul (불) cognate with the modern verb puruda (부르다 to sing).
Later texts refer to hwarang sometimes simply as p’ungwŏlchu (風月主). P’ungwŏl is also a way
of writing the same word pul and thus has the same meaning as p’ungnyu. Both undoubtedly derive from
the hwarang practice of singing and dancing in the mountains. 6) That the word has in later days been
associated with dolce

4) An old method of writing Korean words with Chinese characters.

5) Cf.Yi T’ak (李鐸) Kugohak Non’go (國語學論攷) Seoul 1958, page 84f .
6) Cf. SKK page 255 f. for a detailed examination of this matter. For the philological argument see Yang Chudong,
op. cit. p.528.

[page13]
far niente, and poetizing in beauty spots and connected with wine and lovemaking is not surprising. The
case is somewhat parallel to the history of the word hwarang itself. In rendering it into English it is
certainly most attractive to render it as “wind and moonlight music,” and though this may be a shade too
romantic, it is probably not too far from suggesting the excitement which attended the hwarang meetings.

d. Hyangdo (香徒)

Yet one more name for the hwarang deserves consideration. It is uncommon, but it does occur in
the Samguk Sagi7) where the hero Kim Yusin ( 金 庚 信 ) and his followers are said when he became a
hwarang to have been given the title of Yonghwa Hyangdo (龍華香徒).
Hyangdo (香徒) literally means “frasrant one” or “incense man.” In later Korean usage it is used
to describe the men who carry a bier, but that is obviously not the meaning here. In the Samguk Yusa it is
used on occasion with the apparent meaning of “the devout buddhist laity.” Since the character hyang
(香) has a close connection with the idea of devotion in Buddhist usage, where it is very common indeed,
it seems probable that this was the sense in which it was used in this case, and Kim Yusin’s title would be
something like “the Dragon-Flower devotee.”8)
It has been noted by Kim Kwangyŏng (金光永), in an article to which I shall refer again later, 9)
that the name Yonghwa is a regular buddhist term, being the name of the naga-puspa, which will be the
bodhi tree of Maitreya Buddha when he comes to earth.
Finally it is interesting to note that Yu Ch’angdon ( 劉 昌淳) in his Koŏ Sajŏn (古語辭典)1)
explains hyangdo as

7) 三國史記 卷四十一 列傳^” 金鹿信上

8) For details of this argument see SKK pages 264 ff.
9) Hwarangdo ch’angsŏre taehan sogo (花郞道 創設에 對한 小考) in Tongguk Sasang (東國思想) Vol 1 (第ᅳ
輯), Seoul, 1958, page 32. See also below pages 24 and 61.
1) Seoul 1955.

[page14]
meaning a group that is half buddhist, half shamanistic. But he offers no evidence to support this
interpretation.

Ill The Sources

The paucity of sources for early Korean history makes the study of it at once fascinating and
frustrating. There is the excitement of interpreting the fragments and the extreme irritation of having not
quite enough material to complete the picture. In no aspect of Three Kingdoms history is this more true
than in the matter of the hwarang.
As is to be expected, we depend almost entirely on the evidence of the Samguk Yusa and the
Samguk Sagi. The Chinese dynastic histories which provide a certain amount of material on other
questions are no help with the hwarang. Even the material in the two Korean histories is sparser than one
would like. In each case it consists of a very brief paragraph about the origin and nature of the institution,
and beyond that only a series of dispersed references in the biographies of notables, stating that they were
hwarang. From these scant references we must build up all that we can say is definitely recorded about
the matter. Anything else will be a matter of conjecture.
Before turning to the two principal accounts, it may be well to state briefly the nature and quality
of the two documents in which they occur.
The Samguk Sagi (三國史記) was compiled by Kim Pusik (金富試) by order of King Injong (仁
宗) of Koryŏ ( 高麗) in 1145. It consists very largely of matter drawn from earlier sources now lost in
their independent form. It is in the traditional annals and biography arrangement. First there are twenty
eight books telling in order the annals of Silla ( 新羅), Koguryŏ (高句麗), and Paekche (百濟). There
follow three books of chronological tables ( 年 表 ), nine of monographs ( 志 ), and then ten books of
biographies (傳).
[page15]
The compiler was a noted scholar, soldier and statesman of his time. He was identified with the
movement towards the adoption of Chinese taste and standards, and disinclined to favour interpretations
of history which did not comply with his own tastes and attitudes. Nevertheless his work has preserved
for us much invaluable material which helps in the reconstruction of the picture of Korean culture before
it became too heavily overlaid with Chinese elements. In the earlier periods his chronology is unreliable,
but by the time that he comes to describe the hwarang there is little reason to mistrust his datings.
There are many reprints and editions of the Samguk Sagi.
The Samguk Yusa (三國遺事) deals with the same period, but was written a century later, by the
monk Iryŏn ( 一 然 1206—1289). Like the Sagi it has a traditional shape, in that it begins with a
chronology and then turns to individual persons and places, but the form is much less strict. In fact the
two works are in startling contrast. The Sagi is a fairly sober account of events, but the Yusa is an
entertaining collection of anecdotes and wonders. But it is not to be disregarded as history for it seems,
like the Sagi, to have drawn on sources not now available for many things, and it has preserved for us a
number of early Korean poems which would otherwise have been lost. Also it represents an attitude to the
Three Kingdoms period that is quite different from that of the Sagi. In the matter of the hwarang the
prejudices of the two compilers are very markedly demonstrated, and can save us from accepting a view
of the nature of hwarang that might otherwise be very onesided. Iryŏn certainly preserves for us an early
tradition about history, and tradition is a matter of great value in the investigation of a social institution.
 To turn then to the account of the institution of the hwarang as given by the Samguk
Sagi first, as being [page16] the oldest account we have.2) The translation is my own.

Reign of King Chinhŭng (眞興王). 37th year (i.e., A.D. 576). Spring. At first he instituted (奉)
the original Flowers ( 源 花 ). In the beginning the rulers and ministers lacked understanding of their
people and because they were worried they gathered many people together to play (dance?). After this
behaviour had been observed they made their appointments. So two pretty girls were chosen, one
called Nammo ( 南 毛 ) and the other called Chunjŏng ( 俊 貞 ). They had more than three hundred
followers in their band. The two women grew jealous of each other’s beauty and finally Chunjŏng
enticed Nammo to her home, plied her with wine till she was drunk, then pushed her into a stream and
killed her. Chunjŏng was executed for this. The followers lost their unity and were dispersed.
After this, beautiful boys were chosen and arrayed in cosmetics and fine clothes, called Flower
Boys ( 花 郞 ), and chartered (?) They gathered followers in large numbers. They encouraged one
another morally, and delighted one another with singing and music, playing among the hills and
streams—there was nowhere that they did not go. Through this it was learnt who was good and who
was bad, and the good ones among them were selected and preferred at court.
So Kim Taemun ( 金大問 ) says in his Hwarang Chronicle (花郞世記 ), “Good ministers and
loyal subjects arose from among them, and they produced great generals and brave soldiers.”
And Ch’oe Ch’iwŏn (崔致遠) says in the preface to the Mannang Pi (驚郞碑序). “In our country
there is mysterious and wonderful ‘way’( 道) called P’ungnyu. Its origin is described in detail in the
Fairy Chronicle (仙史). In fact it combines the three doctrines and so teaches the people. They practise
filial piety in the family and loyalty to the country, which is the idea of the Minister of Justice of Lu
(魯司寇, i.e., Confucius).

2) Samguk Sagi 卷第四 眞興王 三十七年

[page 17]
Their quietism and lack of teaching is the doctrine of the Recorder of Chou ( 周 柱 史 , i.e, Lao-tzu).
Their avoiding of evil and doing of good is the teaching of the Prince of India ( 竺乾太子 , i.e., the
Buddha).”
Also the Account of the Country of Silla (新羅國記) by Ling-hu Ch’eng (令孤澄) of Tang says:
“They choose pretty sons from noble families and deck them out with cosmetics and fine clothes and
call them Flower Boys (花郞). The people all revere and serve them.”

This whole account bristles with difficulties and obscurities. But before attempting to unravel
any of them it is interesting to compare the same material as it is presented by the Samguk Yusa. The first
thing to note is that the Sagi sets this question of the hwarang in what at least appears to be its
chronological setting (though for its exact chronological setting see below page 20) in the midst of the
chronicles. The chronicle section of the Yusa is little more than a table and contains no comments or
explanatory material. So the hwarang are not mentioned in it. Instead the same story of the origin of the
hwarang is given among the anecdotes on buddhist temples, apparently to explain the significance of the
immediately following story which relates of a particular hwarang. Again the translation is my own 3).

The twenty-fourth king, Chinhŭng. He was of the Kim clan. His name was Sammaekchong (彡夌
宗) — sometimes given as Simmaekchong( 深夌宗). He ascended the throne in the sixth year of the
Ta-tung period of the Liang dynasty. He followed the will of his uncle King Pophung ( 法 興 , the
previous ruler) by serving the Buddha and building temples in many places and by encouraging people
to become monks and nuns. He also had a great devotion to the spirits. He chose pretty girls ( 娘) as
 wŏnhwa. A large group was collected and they were taught filial and fraternal piety and loyalty and
sincerity. They were very helpful

3) Samguk Yusa 卷三 彌勒仙花

[page 18]
in governing the country. Eventually, Nammo and Chunjŏng ( 峻貞, the first character differing from
that given in the Sagi), whose followers numbered between three and four hundred, were chosen.
Chunjŏng was jealous of Nammo, and when Nammo had taken much wine and was drunk, took her
secretly to the North Stream (or a stream outside the city), struck her with stones, and killed her.
Nammo’s followers did not know where she had gone, so they dispersed, weeping sadly. But there was
someone who knew the truth about the plot, who taught the children to sing a song about it in the
streets. Nammo’s followers heard it and found her body in the North Stream. So Chunjŏng was put to
death. The then king ordered all the wŏnhwa to be disbanded.
Some years later the king was concerned about the strengthening of the country. He realised that
the first thing to organize was p’ungwŏlto (風月道 ). He again issued a decree and chose boys from
good families who were of good morals and renamed them hwarang (花郞). Sŏrwŏn (薛原) was the
first to be admitted as a kuksŏn. This was the beginning of the hwarang.
So a (his) memorial stone was set up at Myŏngju (溟州 now Kangnŭng 江陵), and
from this time men began to respect their seniors and be gentle with their inferiors. Also at this time the
Five Constant Virtues (五常),4) the Six Arts (六藝),5) the Three Tutors (三師),6) and the Six Chiefs (六
正)7) were spread through the land.

4) This probably means benevolence, uprightness, propriety, wisdom and sincerity (仁義禮智信), but it may refer to
the five relationships: affection between father and son, justice between ruler and subject, precedence between
husband and wife, order between senior and junior, and good faith between friends. Cf Mencius 滕文公上
5) Ritual (禮), music (樂), archery (射) charioteering (御), writing (書), mathematics (數). Cf Chou Li 地官保氏.
6) Three ranks of court tutors adopted from the Latter Wei dynasty and nourishing in Korea during the Koryŏ period
(太師, 太傅, 太保).
7) In the Tso Chuan ( 襄二十五年 ) the phrase means six commanders who were military officials; but it is also
explained as six types of statesman: holy (聖臣), good (良臣), loyal (忠臣), wise (哲臣), pure (貞臣), and honest
(直臣).

[page 19]
From this point on the text of the Yusa goes straight into the story of the mystic Maitreya
Hwarang8) which is the principal purpose of the chapter.
The differences in the two accounts are minor affairs. It is clear that there was an institution
called wŏnhwa. It seems that the accounts would have us believe that Nammo and Chunjŏng were people
of Chinhŭng’s reign. These women had a moral purpose, but there are hints of a religious background,
with singing and dancing for the good of the land. The national religion being a form of shamanism and
the early kings of Silla having borne titles that include the title ch’a-ch’a-ung (次次雄), which is thought
to be shamanistic, it would not seem unreasonable to suppose that these women were shamans or had a
function that was shamanistic9).
Some commentators have doubted whether the two women who are named were actually living in
the reign of Chinhŭng. But it is hard to deny this without entirely discrediting the Yusa story and making
it hard to see the point of the Sagi version, although it would certainly be good to be able to point to a
myth of death by drowning if one wished to establish a firmly religious background for the hwarang of
the kind adumbrated by Waley in the passage mentioned earlier1). What is certain

8) See below page 26.

9) For the title ch’a-ch’a-ung see, inter alia, Suematsu Yasukazu (末松保和) Shiragishi no Shomondai (新羅史の諸
問題) Tokyo 1954. page 59, and Yi Pyŏngdo’s annotated edition of the Samguk Sagi (對譯詳註三國史記) Seoul
1957, page 49. A further reflection on the relation of shamanism to the early rulers and government of Silla is roused
by the suggestion that the famous “golden crowns” were shamanistic regalia. This is supposed by C. Hentz in his
article Schamanen Kronen zur Han-Zen in Korea, Ostasiatische Zeitschrift, Berlin and Leipzig, 1934.
A recent Korean article adducing the shamanistic nature of the wŏnhwa can be found in Tongguk Sahak Vol 4(東國
史學四輯), Seoul 1956: An Kyehyŏn (安啓賢) A Study of the P’algwanhoe (八關會考) page 35, also referred to
below pages 20 and 54.
1) See above, pages 5 and 6.

[page 20]
is that the hwarang were instituted by Chinhŭng on the pattern of an earlier organization of women 2).

A more interesting and intriguing problem is that of the reliability of the date given by the
compiler of the Sagi. Many Korean translators of the Sagi3) treat the whole matter, from the first inception
of wŏnhwa to the institution of the hwarang, as having happened in the 37th year of Chinhŭng. But it has
often been noted that in the biography section of the Sagi the story of Sadaham (斯多含) counts him as a
hwarang already at the time of the expedition against Kara ( 加羅) which took place in the 23rd year of
Chinhŭng (A.D. 562). An attempt has been made by An Kyehyŏn 4) to show that it actually happened in
the 12th year of Chinhŭng, but this is yet to be regarded as a proven case.
Professor Yi Pyŏngdo5) points out that the 37th year is the last year of Chinhŭng. It was therefore
the reasonable heading under which to put something that was known to have happened in that reign, but
whose exact date was unknown. The strictly chronological method of the Sagi makes it difficult to place
such intractable material. The only material put under the same year after the entry about the wŏnhwa and
the hwarang is a note about a monk who studied in China “at this period”, and the record of the king’s
death, which would naturally close the account of his reign in the chronological telling of it.
One striking aspect of the accounts as they stand

2) In passing we may note the opinion of Ayukai Fusamosuke ( 鮎貝房之進) quoted in SKK, page 117, that the
wŏnhwa were primitive kisaeng (妓生) if not actually courtesans (娼). Mishina dismisses the idea, which seems
untenable in view of the description given of them in the two accounts translated above. Yet the choice by
dancing and the insistence on beauty does suggest court minions as much as it does religious purposes.
3) e.g., Kim Chonggwŏn (金鍾權) Wanyŏk Samguk Sagi (完譯三國史記) Seoul, 1960, page 66.
4) Op. cit. ibid. See also above page 19 note 9.
5) Op. cit. page 245.

[page21]
is how little support they give to the popular notion of hwarang as an exclusively or even primarily
military organisation. We read only that great generals arose from among the hwarang, and this fact is
quoted only by the Sagi, a book written by a general. When we come later to examine the accounts of
individual hwarang we shall find that there is a higher proportion of military accounts in the Sagi than in
the Yusa. This is not surprising, but it does make it clear that it is an error to regard hwarang as merely a
type of soldier or even of knight.
On the contrary, the religious character of the hwarang is emphasized by both accounts. Ch’oe
Ch’iwŏn’s account must be read in the light of his date (the tenth century AD) and his own background,
which was almost entirely Chinese, since he had spent a long time at the court of T’ang 6). Naturally he
would wish to interpret hwarang in terms favourable to his own background—perhaps the first Korean to
attempt to make Korean affairs look more respectable by giving them a Chinese explanation. In any case
he does not claim that the hwarang have actually inherited Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism, but
only that they resemble them, as, it may be noted, have most of the religious systems devised by Koreans
in subsequent centuries. Ch’oe Ch’iwŏn noticeably fails to mention any connection with older native
Korean religion. This is not a conclusive argument in any sense, since he may well have thought that such
unphilosophical religions as Korea had before were beneath his and his readers’ notice. It may be guessed
that the Mannang of the title of Ch’oe Ch’iwon’s work was a hwarang as the nang character suggests, but
this is no more than a reasonable surmise. The name is otherwise unknown. His reference to the Sŏnsa or
“Fairy Chronicle” may possibly be a way of referring to the Hwarang Segi or “Hwarang Chronicle”
quoted in the Sagi immediately

6) Samguk Sagi (三國史記 卷第四十六).

[page 22]
before the passage from Ch’oe himself, but here again we are in the field of unsupportable conjecture.
The Hwarang Segi was written by Kim Taemun, and is known also from another reference
towards the end of the Sagi. It is now lost, but it is believed that it may have been drawn on by Iryŏn in
compiling the Samguk Yusa, as well as by Kim Pusik for the Sagi. Kim Taemun was a writer of the time
of King Sŏngdŏk (聖德) of Silla. He became governor of Hansan-ju (漢山州) in 7047).
But if Ch’oe Ch’iwŏn’s account treats hwarang as a religious, or at least a moral, institution, the
quotation from the Chinese source tells us of nothing but their external beauty 8). This point is not made by
the Yusa account. It is probably too much to assume, as some modern writers have done, that the meaning
of the references to the prettiness of the boys is a figurative reference to their good moral character, since
the phrase certainly means external beauty and there are the references to the fine costumes and cosmetics
to enhance the suggestion of beautiful appearance as being an essential feature of the hwarang. It has been
suggested that it was this question of beauty that was the reason for the name of “flower boy”. 9) Mishina
discusses the question of whether the costume of the hwarang was actually the dress of women 1). In spite
of professor Ikeuchi’s entirely proper insistence that there is no conclusive evidence that this was so,
Mishina adduces a Japanese parallel, the hekonise (兵子二歲) of Kyushu with their cosmetics and girl’s
kimono, and since he favours a shamanistic explanation of the origin of hwarang, points out that the
wearing of the clothes of

7) Samguk Sagi 卷四十六.

8) For a note on the source of this quotation see Yi Pyŏngdo, op. cit. p. 249.
9) E.g. Yi Yŏsŏng (李如星) Chosŏn Poksikko (朝鮮服飾考) Seoul 1947, page 348.
1) SKK pages 125ff.

[page23]
the other sex is a characteristic feature of shamanism in Korea and other parts of Northeast Asia. It is
impossible to go further than this. The point cannot be proved conclusively either way, since the existence
of parallels is never a satisfactory substitute for direct evidence, and this is lacking.
The Yusa account also lacks the reference to the dancing among the hills and streams, though it
mentions the importance of music when it says that the real reason for Chinhŭng’s efforts with the
hwarang was the need to reinstate pungwŏlto. In the Sagi account the theme of playing and singing and
dancing in groups in the open is very marked. It is hard to resist the interpretation of this as being a
basically shamanistic activity. Mishina again treats this matter as a parallel to initiation journeys and
pilgrimages in related cultures, but also adduces evidence from other sources on hwarang that will
suggest the essentially religious nature of this activity even if it is not possible to prove that the purpose of
the dancing in distant mountains was actually shamanistic 2). This evidence will be dealt below with in the
accounts of individual hwarang.

2) SKK pages 135ff.

3) 三國史記 卷三十二 Cf. also page 18 above.
[page 24]
But possibly the most striking feature of the Yusa account is the description it gives of the effect
of the hwarang system. In spite of the obscurities involved in the terms Five Constant Virtues and Six
Chiefs, it is clear that all the references are to non-buddhist ideas, and derive from pre-buddhist Chinese
literature. In the work of a buddhist monk this is surprising. It is a striking argument that he at least did
not regard the hwarang as a primarily buddhist institution. This militates strongly against such a thesis as
that of Kim Kwang- yŏng that the whole purpose of hwarang was purely buddhist4).
Mr Kim does however, draw attention to the fact mentioned in the Yusa that King Chinhŭng,
whose reign was a long one, was a devout buddhist, and shortly before he died “shaved his head and took
the robe with the name of Pobun (法雲)5)”. And this encourages us to consider the general circumstances
of Chinhŭng’s period for the sake of the light they may throw on the institution of the hwarang at that
time6).
Silla seems to have been comparatively late in receiving the full force of Chinese cultural
influences, due to her geographical situation behind the mountain barriers of central Korea. But a great
turning point in her history occurs in the early part of the sixth century. In 500 Chijŭng ( 智證) became
king, and was the first ruler of Silla to adopt the Chinese title of wang (王). At the funeral of the previous
king it was ordained that according to custom five men and five women should be buried alive with him,
but oxen were substituted for the men and women. Then in 502 Chijŭng forbade the continuation of this
cruel custom. In the next year it is recorded that he first decided

4) Cf. op. cit. above page 13, note 9, and below page 61.
5) Samguk Sagi 卷四
6) The references for the material in the following paragraph are in the fourth volume of the Sagi. For recent
comments on the period see Suematsu, op. cit. page 19 note 9.

[page25]
which Chinese characters should be used in writing the name of the country (新羅). These two facts alone
clearly mark a great step forward in the whole civilisation of the time.
Under his successor, Pŏphŭng(法興 514-540), however, even greater advances were made, and
very rapidly indeed. In 520 a series of statutes was promulgated which codified the government and some
at least of its customs, including the use of coloured robes as a sign of rank. In 528 Buddhism was
declared the official religion of the state. In 532 the state of Karak ( 駕洛) was annexed, as the first move
in Silla’s expansion and consolidation, finally in 536 the first Chinese style year title (年號) was used.
Thus the whole political structure of Silla was undergoing a great change immediately before the
accession of king Chinhŭng in 540. It is also certain that there were important social changes, such as
might be expected, going on at the same time. Early Silla does not seem to have been a purely patrilineal
society. The marriage arrangements of the rulers were complex, but indicate that the female line was still
important even though the rulers were males. However during the sixth century all this changed, and the
society shifted to a more completely male-centred system.
Thus the hwarang came to prominence at a crucial period in the development of Silla, and were
indeed, as the Yusa account stresses, a part of the national expansion and strengthening policy. To some
extent one can expect to find traces of Chinese influence since these were the early days of Chinese
cultural extension in the country. Thus the references to confucian moral principles are not surprising,
although it would be doubtful that there was much depth in Korean confucian studies by this time. But of
even greater interest is the change in the relative positions of the sexes. The switch from women to men
seems to be typical of this age of transition. For age of transition [page 26] it naturally was, slowly
building up to the emergence of the great culture of united Silla at the end of the century.

IV. The Maitreya Hwarang Story

 It is convenient to treat the story of the Maitreya Hwarang ( 彌勒仙花) separately because it is
dependent on the account of Chinhŭng and the founding of the hwarang in the Yusa7).
In the reign of Chinji (眞智 576-579) there was a monk at Hŭngnyun-sa (興輪寺) called Chinja
(眞慈), who was for ever going in before the image of the Lord Miruk (Maitreya, 彌勒) and praying:
“Great Holy One, deign to appear in this world as a hwarang, and let me always be near you to serve
you.” His devotion and desire increased exceedingly until one night a monk appeared to him in a dream
and said: “If you will go to Suwŏn-sa (水源寺) at Ungch’ŏn (熊川 now Kongju 公州), you will see the
Maitreya as a hwarang. Chinja woke up amazed and happy and went in search of that temple. He took ten
days to get there, kowtowing at each step of the way. Outside the door stood a lad in beautifully
embroidered clothes who welcomed him with a radiant smile and led him through the wicket gate into the
guestroom. Chinja went in, bowed to the boy and said: “Since you did not know me before, how did you
come to welcome me so kindly?” The boy replied: “I too am a man from the capital, and I saw your
reverence coming from a long way off, so I came to greet you”. Shortly afterwards he went out without
saying where he was going. Chinja thought it was a coincidence and did not pay much attention to the
matter. But he told the monks of the temple about the dream he had had and why he had come. “So please
can I stay here in the lowest place and wait to see if Maitreya will came as a hwarang?” The monks
thought he was crazy, but in view of his politeness and humility

7) Ibid, see above page 17, note 3.

[page 27]
they said, “South of here at Ch’ ŏnsan (千山) nearby, there has been a wise and holy man living for a long
time. He is expert in such matters. Why don’t you go to him?” Chinja did as they said and went to the
mountainside where the spirit of the mountain came out in the form of an old man and said: “What have
you come here for?” “I want to see Maitreya as a hwarang”. The old man said: “You have already seen
him outside the gate of Suwŏn-sa. What else do you want?” Chinja was amazed and went back quickly to
his own temple.
A month or more later King Chinji heard about all this and summoned Chinja to his presence to
ask about it. The King said: “The boy said he was a monk of the capital, and the Holy One would not
speak empty words. Why don’t you search for him in the city?” Chinja noted the royal suggestion and
gathered the faithful and searched high and low throughout the city, till he found a rapturously pretty boy
playing and dancing under the trees by the road to the northeast of the Yŏngmyo Temple ( 靈 妙 寺 ).
Chinja was amazed and said: “This is the Maitreya hwarang”. He went up to the lad and asked: “Where
do you live? I should like to know your name”. The boy said: “My name is Mil ( 未尸). I lost my parents
when I was tiny, and so I do not know my surname”. They got into a car and went back to the king, who
took a fancy to the boy and made him a kuksŏn. His followers were united in charity, but his manners and
music were different from the ordinary. His p’ungnyu delighted the world for seven years, then he
suddenly disappeared. Chinja grieved deeply. But by bathing himself in Mil’s grace, and continuing in his
purity he was able to live in penitence following the way (道).
The relater adds that the character mi sounds like the first character of Mirŭk ( 彌勒), while the
character ri (l 尸 ) looks like the character ryŏk ( 力 ). So it seems that the name is a riddle writing of
Mirŭk. The Holy One was not merely moved by the devotion of Chinja, but appeared several times for
the sake of the country. [page 28] Even to the present time a mountain spirit ( 神仙) is called Maitreya
Hwarang, and a mediator is called mil. This is all Chinja’s legacy. Still, too, roadside trees are called
“sighting of boys” (見如) or more colloquially sayŏ (似如) or inyŏ (印如) trees.
The temptation to interpret fairy tales is strong. In this tale the most striking thing is the fact that
a hwarang is Maitreya and that he is connected so firmly with trees. Mishina discusses the possible
connection with dendolatry,8) which is an ancient practice in Korea, and also relates the story to the
previously mentioned fact9) that when Kim Yusin became a hwarang his followers were known by the
name of the bodhi tree proper to Maitreya. There may be a hint here of connections between hwarang and
primitive devotions. But the story is typical of the contents of the Samguk Yusa and has a lively
attractiveness. It’s context moreover highly colours the interpretation of hwarang that the Yusa suggests.
It is steeped in religion, and has no trace of militarism.
The elucidation of some of the linguistic details of the passage must await further studies in old
Korean than are as yet available. The explanation that is offered of the reading of the second character on
the name of Mil is odd. Professor Yang has shown that it can be read as final l in other texts of the Yusa1)
But in any case the significance of the name is clear enough. We shall come across the name of Maitreya
again in the stories of the hwarang. He seems almost to have been their patron.

V Later historical references.

Before going on to the investigation of the records of hwarang individuals, it will be interesting
to see what

8) SKK pages 72ff.

9) See above page 13.
1) Op. cit. page 93.

[page 29]
has been the tradition of the Korean historiographer of later days with regard to the question.
Three books seem worth consulting.
First the Tongguk Tonggam (東國 通鑑 ) by Sŏ Kŏjŏng, ( 徐居 正 ) completed in 1484. In this
book, under the 37th year of King Chinhŭng of Silla 2). we find an abridged version of the passage already
quoted3) from the Samguk Sagi. It contains most of the part before the quotation from Kim Taemun, with
a few minor changes in the characters, but stops short before the mention of statesmen and generals.
However under the accession year of the same King Chinhŭng we find the note that “Silla chose
handsome boys of good character and called them pungwŏlchu (風月主), seeking good men to join the
groups, to encourage filial and fraternal piety, loyalty and sincerity”. And under the 27th year a record of
one Paegun ( 白 雲 ) becoming a hwarang at the age of 14, otherwise known only from the Samguk
Sajŏryo, (三國史節要), compiled about the same time from materials dating from a generation earlier
than the Tongguk T’onggam.
Next the Taedong Unbu Kunok ( 大 東 韻 府 群 玉 ), an encyclopaedic dictionary of Korean matters
compiled by Kwŏn Munhae (權文海) in 1588, contains articles on wŏnhwa, hwarang, and kuksŏn. The
first two consist of short quotations from the Samguk Sagi. The third notes that kuksŏn is the same as
hwarang. It says again that Paegun (白雲) became a kuksŏn at the age of fourteen but in the reign of King
Chinp’yŏng (眞平王 579~632). Another reference is added, to Min Chongyu ( 聞宗儒 1245-1324), the
distinguished statesman of Koryŏ who as an infant prodigy of learning was taken into the court and
favour of the King. He is therefore compared to the young hwarang.

2) Tongguk Tonggam 東國通鑑 卷五.

3) See above page 16.

[page 30]
Again we notice a tendency to sidestep any military aspects of hwarang history.
Lastly there is the Haedong Yŏksa (海東繹史) of the later eighteenth century, compiled by Han
Ch’iyŏn (韓到淵). This quotes the same piece of the Sagi as does the Tongguk T’onggam, prefixing it
with the quotation given in the Sagi as from Ling-hu Ch’eng, but here ascribed to the Ta-chung I-shih (大
中遺事) which was the book in which Ling-hu himself had quoted the sentence.
 Later history books, even those written as early text books in the modern style before the
Japanese annexation in 1910, never say more and usually say less than this about the hwarang. Many
Koreans now middle aged are scarcely aware of having heard of hwarang until after the liberation in
1945. The tradition of the historians was limited, and it is most noticeable that the idea of hwarang as a
military cult does not become prominent until the days when the Japanese are promoting the idea of
bushido (武士道). Either from imitation or emulation, it is at that time that the hwarang are presented as
primarily military. How much justification there was for this attitude we shall find in considering the
accounts of individual hwarang in the Sagi and the Yusa.

IV Individual Hwarang

There are a number of hwarang recorded by name in the sources. Their biographies, or the
anecdotes about them, throw a little light on the hwarang institution in almost every case, so the
examination of each indiviaual has more value than the mere creation of a list of names.
We have already mentioned a few hwarang by name: Sŏrwŏn, presumed to be the same man as
Wŏllang4), of whom nothing more is known than has already been

4) See above pages 18 and 23.

[page 31]
said; and Paegun, who is mentioned, on what original authority we do not know, in the Tongguk
T’onggam5) But neither of these gives much information about the status or activity of hwarang that is not
implicit in the two accounts of the institution already given, beyond the fact that Paegun was married, and
the age at which he became a hwarang was fourteen.
References to hwarang in the Samguk Sagi and the Samguk Yusa may be divided into two kinds:
the biographies or anecdotes which tell us definitely of any man that he was made a hwarang or had been
one; and the references to men whose names are given with the suffix nang ( 郞 ), which is reasonably
supposed to indicate that the man was in fact a hwarang. In the latter cases there are sufficient indications
in the majority of the stories, as will become evident, to establish the principle.
It seems best to take them in chronological order before considering the differences between the
general impressions made by the sum of the accounts in each book. The earliest actually dated is
Sadaham in the Sagi in 562; the latest is Hyojong in the Yusa in the second half of the ninth century, thus
covering a range of some three hundred years.
Sadaham (斯多含) was of noble birth, since he was not only a descendant of an earlier ruler, but
belonged to the aristocratic rank known as chin’gol (眞骨) the second of the exclusive and aristocratic so-
called “bone ranks” of Silla. It seems from the Sagi6) account that although he was a youth of excellent
character he was not able to become a hwarang as soon as some of his friends thought he was worthy.
When he did, his followers (從) numbered a thousand, and he was

5) See above page 29.

6) 史記卷四十四 Sadaham is obviously a Silla name transliterated in Chinese. I follow normal Korean practice by
transcribing all names in modern Korean pronunciation, except the few where Dr. Yang has suggested an old
Korean pronunciation. Cf. above page 7 note 2.

[page 32]
personally interested in all of them.
At that time, A.D. 5627) the king ordered Isabu (異斯 夫) to attack the little state of Kaya (加耶
or Kara 加羅 or Karak 駕洛), and Sadaham begged to be commissioned in the expeditionary force. In
view of his extreme youth (he was about 15 or 16 years old), the king was reluctant, but he finally gave in
and commissioned the lad as a commander (貴幢裨將). Sadaham then persuaded Isabu to let him and his
large band of followers lead off with the attack on the gate of Chŏndallyang (旃檀梁), which they took by
surprise and thereby brought the war to an early conclusion.
As a reward the boy was given three hundred prisoners of war for his own, but he set them all
free. So the king tried to reward him with land, but it was only when pressed by the royal will that he
accepted anything at all.
Very shortly afterwards, when Sadaham was seventeen, his friend Mugwan ( 武官), with whom
he had sworn friendship to death, died of sickness. Sadaham mourned him for seven days, and then died
himself.
An interesting story in many ways. It reveals several facts about the hwarang and their times.
Firstly we learn of the rank from which hwarang were taken, the chin’gol in this case. Secondly that he
became a hwarang at the age of fifteen or earlier, but there was some delay about it. Thirdly that although
he was a hwarang he had some difficulty in getting permission to take a leading part in the war, or for
that matter to get into the war at all, even though it was an aggressive war planned in advance by the king
who himself founded the hwarang, Chinhŭng. Lastly we seem here to to find a suggestion that the
members of his band were not called hwarang themselves, but are referred to only as nangdo, the
followers of the hwarang. The suffix nang by itself

7) 三國 史記 卷四.

[page 33]
however is given in the case of the name of Mugwan-nang, Sadaham’s bosom friend, who is unlikely to
have been less than equal to him in rank, and so offers another indication that we can rely on the fact that
this suffix as a title does indicate that a man was a hwarang.
The next group of hwarang known to us by name belong to the reign of the following king,
Chinp’yŏng (眞平王 579-632). It is again in the Sagi that we find the name of Kim Hŭmch’un (金欽春).
His son held the same rank as Sadaham’s father (級飡). His name is also written Kim Hŭmsun (金欽純).
He was grandfather of the famous general Kim Yŏngyun ( 金 令 胤 ). He was an upright and excellent
youth and became a hwarang. Later, under King Munmu ( 文武王 661-681) he became prime minister
(宰臣) and filled the office with honour. In 660 he was ordered by the king to go out with Kim Yusin 8) to
assist the T’ang general Su Ting-fang ( 蘇 定 方 ) in the war against Paekche. They commanded 50,000
men. At the battle of Hwangsan ( 黃山 now Yŏnsan 連山) he encouraged his son Pan’gul (盤屈) to go
into the thick of the battle where it was almost certain he would be killed. He was. It is not recorded that
Pan’gul was a hwarang.9)
The Yusa lists under the same reign (Chinp’yŏng), three hwarang names, and assigns to each a
number. No 5 Kŏryŏl (居烈), No 6 Silch’ŏ (實處 or Tolch’ŏ 突處), and No 7 Podong (寶同).1) They are
told of as going to visit the Diamond Mountains ( 楓 岳 ) with their followers. The story is of little
historical interest with regard to hwarang as it deals chiefly with how they stopped on the way because of
heavenly portents, which were removed by the efforts of a monk, whose song is preserved. 2) At the same
time some Japanese visitors or raiders

8) See below, page 35.

9) 史記 卷四十七
1) 遺事 卷七 融天師彗星歌
2) See below, page 48.

[page34]
withdrew to their own country. The story is mainly interesting as a specific instance of hwarang travelling
to distant mountains.
 The Yusa also contains another hwarang of the same reign. This is in many ways an odd tale
even for the Yusa. It tells of a monk called Hyesuk (惠宿) who had belonged to the band of the hwarang
Hose (好世). The principal story about him is told as happening after he had retired and become a monk,
and Hose had “removed his name from the Yellow Book ( 黃 卷 )”, which evidently means that he had
retired from the ranks of the hwarang. However twenty years later another hwarang, the kuksŏn Kudam
(瞿旵), comes hunting near the place where Hyesuk is living, and the story really concerns their meeting.
They begin by stripping off their clothes and racing and playing together. Kudam is upbraided in a
particularly unpleasant fashion by the monk for his selfishness and greediness, when the monk ironically
offers the boy a piece cut from his own leg after Kudam has wolfed all the fish they were sharing.
For our purposes the chief point of interest is the Yellow Book. It may have been the name of the
roll of hwarang, or it may have been a conventional phrase for retirement to say that his name was
“removed from the Yellow Book” since in earlier days the word was used in China to refer to important
records.3) But we also note that an ex-hwarang follower might become a monk.
Also for the reign of Chinp’yŏng is recorded the name of Pihyŏng ( 鼻荆郞).4) He is presumed to
be a hwarang only because of the character suffixed to his name. The story tells how he was born to a
woman whom the king Chinji (眞智王 576-579) had loved, but as a result of the king’s intercourse with
her sometime after his death. The boy was taken into the palace, but from the time he was fifteen he used
to go off every

3) The story is in the Yusa 卷四 二惠同塵. For the Yellow Book see also below page 39.
4) 運事 卷一 挑花女

[page35]
night to streams and hills where he met and sported with the spirits (鬼). He was persuaded by the king to
get the spirits to build a large bridge, and even to find a suitable spirit to help with the government, who
was adopted into a noble family and was very useful, but finally turned into a fox and had to be chased
and killed by Pihyŏng himself.
Whatever may be the facts behind this weird tale, we notice that the age of the hwarang is
fifteen, and that he plays by streams. His power over the spirits seems to be unusual, and is remarked as
such by the king. Nevertheless, it must be an old tradition about the hwarang that he could control the
spirits.
With the next man we are on much surer historical ground, as one generally feels when dealing
with the Sagi. This man is kim Yu-sin ( 金庾信), one of the greatest of Korea’s heroes. 5) The Yusa also
contains a story about him, saying he became a kuksŏn and a skilled swordsman at 18, but it is full of
apparitions and wonders. The Sagi treats him to a longer biography than any other individual of any kind,
allowing him three complete sections ( 卷 ) to himself. He became a hwarang at fifteen, and we have
already twice noted that at that time his followers were given a name connected with the Maitreya
Buddha. Perhaps no other hwarang has contributed so much to the current popular idea of the institution
as Kim Yusin. He has been built into novels6) and his part in the wars through which Silla united the
whole peninsula under her rule has contributed to the oft repeated statement that the purpose of the
hwarang was for the fighting of this war. Even elements in his story which are not clearly connected with
his status as a hwarang have been transferred to all hwarang. A striking example is that of his vigil in the
rock cave of Chungak (中嶽). It fits so easily into popular ideas about the initiation of a mediaeval

5) 史記卷四十一, 四十ニ, 四十三, 遺事 卷一 金庚信

6) e.g., Chu Yosup (朱耀燮) Kim Yusin, the Romances of a Korean Warrior of the 7th Century (in English), Seoul
1947.

[page36]
knight. Sometimes elaborate descriptions of the investiture of a hwarang have been invented.7)
However the evidence of his military appointment comes when he is 34 years old. The rest of his
story is of his sagacity and courage as a general. He was the most famous general in the wars of
unification. He was present fighting with the armies of T’ang when Paekche was defeated in 660, and
again at the battle of P’yŏng- yang in the following year.
He lived to the remarkable age of 79, and was given a magnificent state funeral. He had five
sons, four daughters and at least one bastard. 8) This last fact reminds us that chastity has never been
proposed as binding on the hwarang. In fact Kim Yusin has left a legacy of folktales clearly
demonstrating that in his youth—the very period when he should have been most active as a hwarang—
he was involved in illicit liaisons.9)
Here is the military hwarang par excellence. But the honest reader must note that the Sagi really
tells us practically nothing about the difference it made to Kim Yusin that he was ever a hwarang. For all
that the Sagi has so much to say of him, he may well have been just one of those “great generals” who
rose from the hwarang ranks.
The next examples come from the period of Kim Yusin’s life. In the year 627 1) there was a famine
in the land as a result of which some of the young people stole grain. One man called Kŏmgun ( 劍君)
refused to share in it. He was a follower of the hwarang

7) Cf., Chu Yosup. op. cit. pages 3ff. This is a pleasant tissue of material from the Yusa etc, but it is quite without
any historical warranty. Also 孫晋泰 韓國民族史槪論 (Seoul, 1948) p. 129.
8) 三國史記 卷四十三
9) Cf. Ch’oe Sangsu (崔常壽) Hanguk Mingan Chŏnsŏl Chip (韓國民問傳 說集) Seoul 1958, page 214. The same
story is to be found in the Tongguk Yoji Sungnam (東國與地勝覽 卷二十ᅳ 天官寺).
1) 三國史記 卷四十八

[page37]
Kŭnnang (近郞). In fear lest he should reveal their crime, his companions resolved to kill him. He knew
of this, and in spite of the fact that Kŭnnang tried to dissuade him, he went to the banquet at which he
knew that he was to be served poison, and ate it and died.
When Kŏmgun protested that he would not share the grain, he said that since he had learned
p’ungwŏl from Kŭnnang he could not do it. The story is quoted to demonstrate the principles inculcated
in hwarang training. Yet it was Kŭnnang, the hwarang, who tried to persuade his inferior, Kŏmgun, to
run away rather than be a martyr for honesty.
No indication of the ages of people is given in this story, but Kŏmgun’s rank as a local official is
given (舍人). It is well down in the list of precedence.
Kim Hŭmun (金歆運) died in battle in 655, although it had been pointed out to him that he could
have avoided the engagement and that his death would probably never be known as a glorious one. As a
boy he had been in the band of the hwarang Munno (文努), and heard the praises of the glory of those
who died in battle and had been inspired by them, so that people said that he would never turn back if he
ever went on the battlefield. He was another involved in the wars of unification.
But the compiler of the Sagi adds to his account of Kim Humun 2) a quotation ( 論 ) from his
earlier account of the foundation of hwarang, including the quotation from Kim Taemun about generals
and statesmen (with the variations in characters that were followed by Sŏ Kŏjŏng in editing the Tongguk
T’onggam),3) and adds that this is an example of what Kim Taemun meant. He says that by the third
generation of hwarang there were more than two hundred of them,

2) 三國 史記 卷四十七
3) See above page 29.
[page38]
and all their names and great deeds are recorded in their biographies (傳記).
The only remaining example in the Yusa is that of Kwanch’ang (官昌).4) His name is sometimes
given as Kwanjang (官狀). He was a soldier’s son, who became a hwarang as a boy, and was an expert
horseman and archer by the time he was sixteen. He was apparently very little older when he was a
commander in the army fighting against Paekche at the battle of Hwangsan ( 黃山 now Yŏnsan) in 660.
His father encouraged him to go into the thick of the battle, and he was captured , but the Paekche general
on seeing the face of a boy when the vizor was lifted, refused. to kill him, and sent him back because he
was so young. The lad stayed just long enough to drink some water from his cupped hands and returned
to the battle. This time he was killed and his head was sent back on a horse. He was posthumously
honoured with a title by the King. The record is astonishingly alive when it speaks of the words of the
father on receiving his son’s head. He wiped the blood with his sleeve and said, “My boy’s face seems
alive. But he died for the king. There is nothing to grieve about”.
Kwanch’ang and Kim Hŭmun are the last hwarang recorded in the Sagi with glorious battlefield
deaths. Hence the appending of the quotation from Kim Taemun after the end of the account of Hŭmun,
who comes last, in spite of the reverse in the chronological order of his death and Kwanch’ang’s. After
this the only hwarang mentioned in the Sagi come in the story of Kŏmgun given above. We have no more
stories so good of military hwarang, for these are notably missing from the Yusa, where the remainder of
our material is to be found. However the Yusa does record the death of two more hwarang at the battle of
Yŏnsan: Changch’ullang (長春郞) and P’arang (罷郞). It says

4) 三國史記 卷四十七

[page39]
no more than that their spirits later appeared to the king in a dream and had to be helped with buddhist
prayers5).
Nevertheless there is an unmistakably military air about the story of Taemara ( 竹旨 or 竹曼 or
智官) and the young Siro (written as 得烏 or 谷烏)6). They are recorded as of the time of King Hyoso (孝
昭王 692-702). Siro was of medium rank and had “been enrolled in the Yellow Book of P’ungnyu”(隷名
於風流黃卷). The story speaks in terms of almost military discipline. Siro disappeared for ten days. Since
he belonged to Taemara’s band, Taemara enquired of the youth’s mother where he was. (There is actually
no note of his age, but the presumption is that he was still a mere lad). She said that he had been given an
appointment by a provincial official named Iksŏn ( 益宣 ). A band of 137 set out with Taemara to find
him. Iksŏn finally gave him up only as the result of a generous bribe. This news came to the ears of the
hwaju (花主, presumably the hwarang leader), who had Iksŏn punished.
The Yusa chapter closes with an account of the mysterious events before the birth of Taemara.
The suggestion is that his birth was due to the intervention, if not the actual transmigration of the soul, of
a hermit from Chukchiryŏng or Taemara Pass ( 竹 旨 嶺 ), whence his name. We note that an image of
Maitreya was set up in memory of the hermit.
Taemara was a lieutenant of Kim Yusin during the unification wars, and Siro’s song in his
honour is recorded. He was also Prime Minister of Silla (宰相).
If the chronology is correct, the abduction of Siro must have happened more than thirty years
after the time that Taemara had been associated with Kim Yusin,

5) 遺事 卷一 長春郞.
6) 遺事 卷二 孝昭王代 See also below page 49. For the Korean readings of the names see Yang Chudong, op. cit.
pp. 69ff.

[page40]
because the Yusa account says that he served under Queen Chindŏk, (who reigned from 647 to 654) as
well as the subsequent kings. Assuming him to have been very young at the time, he could not have been
under fifty by the time of King Hyoso. This is older than the other evidence leads one to expect to find an
active hwarang. But one feels always wary about the accuracy of the Yusa, and not much could be
reliably built on its chronology in such details, especially since the main purpose of the author in telling
the stories at all seems to be the recording of adventures and wonders. Mishina suggests that the incident
belongs to the reign of Chinp’yŏng, and only the song to the reign of Hyoso 7). But maybe the explanation
is even simpler than that. The compiler knew that Taemara had served as minister under four kings, the
last of whom was Sinmun ( 神 文 ) whose reign immediately preceded that of Hyoso. Although the
chronological system of the anecdotal sections of the Yusa does not have the rigidity of the Sagi, it would
have been tempting for the compiler, if he did not know exactly when the Siro incident took place, to
have given the story of Taemara under the reign in which it was presumed that Taemara died. The general
chronological carelessness of the section is shown by the fact that the story of Taemara’s birth is given
after the story of the Siro incident, and that Giro’s song, said to have been composed “earlier” ( 初), is
given right at the end. The important fact that emerges out of all this being that the story of Taemara and
Siro does not give us the evidence, which is equally lacking elsewhere, that the hwarang initiates
remained hwarang all their lives. The others stories in the Yusa indicate that a man could leave the
hwarang. There is no reason to suppose that “once a hwarang always a hwarang”. It seems to me far
more probable that as the boys grew up they ceased to be regarded as hwarang.
However here we have our second reference to the

7) SKK p.66. Cf. also 三國史記 卷第五 眞德王 三年

[page 41]
Yellow Book, and our first to the hwaju, who seems to have been a person of considerable influence. It is
not stated that Iksŏn was a hwarang, but on the other hand it is not stated that he was not, so we cannot
say whether there was any particular jurisdiction being exercised by the hwaju over him. No indication of
Taemara’s rank is given, but Iksŏn is stated to hold a rank ( 阿干) three degrees higher than that (級干)
held by Siro.
In the Yusa chapter8) about the image of Buddha at Paengnyul-sa ( 栢栗寺), there is a story of
another hwarang of Hyoso’s reign. He is actually said to have been a kuksŏn. He is spoken of as having a
thousand men with “gemmed shoes” (珠履), among whom his best friend was Ansang (安常). His own
name was Purye ( 夫 禮 ). He went off with his men to the mountains of Kangwŏn province to a place
called Kŭmnan (金蘭, now T’ongch’ ŏn 通川), and there he was captured by bandits—possibly Malgal
(靺鞨) tribespeople. The rest of the story tells of how he was joined by Ansang, how the King was much
distressed at his loss, and went to consult the sacred harp (玄琴) and pipe (神笛), but found them missing
too. The parents of Purye prayed to the buddha in Paengnyul-sa for some days, when suddenly he and his
friend appeared behind the image, bringing the lost musical instruments.
At the end of the chapter the compiler adds that the popular opinion that Ansang was a member
of the band of the hwarang Chunyŏng ( 俊 永 郞 ) is unprovable. It was known that Chinjae ( 眞 材 ),
Pŏnhwan(繁完) and others belonged to Chunyŏng’s group, but it was not possible to tell them all.
So far as this story throws any light on the nature of the hwarang it is chiefly in giving us yet
another example of the journey to the distant mountains of

8) 遗事 卷三 栢栗寺.

[page 42]
Kangwŏn, and although there is no definite description, the story does seem again to assume a degree of
organization in the hwarang groups. It would read, as would other stories, very intelligently, if the word
kuksŏn meant the hwarang leader. However it reads equally well if it does not. There is nothing warlike
about the characters. But they are living after the period of Silla’s great military glory.
The next recorded name of a hwarang is half a century later, and by the time he comes into the
records he is no longer a hwarang9). This is Wŏlmyŏng, the buddhist monk (月 明師). In the nineteenth
year of King Kyŏngdŏk (景德王 742-765) two suns appeared side by side in sky, and stayed like that
for ten days. A soothsayer said that when the right monk (緣僧) appeared and chanted a hymn, the portent
would pass away. So an appropriate altar was prepared by the King. The monk who passed by in such a
way as to satisfy the requiremenents was Wŏlmyŏng. He protested that he had belonged to a hwarang
band (國仙之從), and so could compose a song in Korean (鄉歌) but was not expert enough to do so in
Sanskrit. Nevertheless the king insisted, the song was sung, and the sun came right again. The song is
recorded1).
The chief interest in the story for our present purpose is the note that he had left the hwarang
band, though it must be noted that he is not explicitly stated to have been a hwarang himself. Also that
the ability to sing songs in Korean is a natural result of having been a hwarang. There is some interest too
in the fact that the story has further elements of Maitreya worship in it. When the King rewarded
Wŏlmyŏng, the gifts of tea and crystal rosary beads which he gave him were removed by a pretty boy
who disappeared into a picture of Maitreya. But this aspect of the tale and the song

9) 逮事 卷五 月明師환率歌.
1) See below page 50.

[page43]
itself must be dealt with a little later2).
Our next hwarang is very near in date to Wŏlmyŏng if not actually contemporary. His name is
Kilbo (耆婆)3) and he is known only through a song addressed to him by a buddhist monk4) It is in this
song that we find the title hwap’an5) given to Kilbo. His name is buddhist, and suggests longevity.
The next example comes from the reign of Honan ( 憲安 857-861) a century later than
Kilbo. It is actually a story of the King Kyŏngmun ( 景文 reigned 861-875), who as Ungnyŏm ( 膺廉)
became a kuksŏn at the age of eighteen. The previous king had called him when he was still a hwarang
and asked him the most wonderful thing he had seen on his hwarang journeys. He said he had seen a man
of high worth take a low seat, a rich man wearing simple clothing, and a nobleman who concealed his
splendour. As a result of the good character shown by these answers he was married to the kin g’s
daughter and appointed successor to the king, who had no sons. Later in life he himself arranged for
hwarang to go to the Kŭmnan 6) mountains and there four of them composed 300 songs (possibly in
honour of the number canonized in the Shih-ching) to help with the governing of the country. The Yusa
preserves the names of the songs, but not the texts7).
In the reign of Hŏngang (憲康 875-886) we have the name of Ch’oyong (處容). He was said to
be one of the seven sons of the Dragon of the Eastern Sea (東海龍). These had all danced before the king.
Ch’oyong had gone to court and later married a beautiful girl

2) See below pages 50 and 62.

3) For this reading of the Chinese characters in old Korean see Yang Chudong, op, cit., page 319.
4) See below page 51.
5) See above page 7.
6) 遺事 卷二, 四十八景文大王.
7) The names of the other hwarang mentioned are kuksŏn Yowŏn ( 邀 元 ), Yŏhun ( 譽 听 ). Kyewŏn( 桂 元 ) and
Sukchong (叔宗).

[page 44]
given to him by the king. A disease spirit took the form of a man and got into bed with her. Ch’oyong
drove it away with a famous song and dance. He therefore became regarded as a man powerful with
demons, and his picture was later used to frighten devils from houses. This is an interesting case of
hwarang and shamanism being connected. The song will be dealt with presently 8).
The last recorded hwarang name is that of Hyojong ( 孝 宗 )9). He was of the time of Queen
Chinsŏng (眞聖女王 887-897). We hear of his dancing at the Namsan Posŏkchŏng ( 鲍石亭), a well-
known haunt of spirits, and of his relief assistance to a needy family of an old woman and her daughter, in
which all his followers cooperated 1). This is the nearest thing in all the hwarang stories to any note of
chivalrous action to damsels in distress. But he was really helping the family, not rescuing the girl.
Ch’oe Namsŏn ( 崔 南 善 ) in his edition of the Yusa treated one more name as being that of a
hwarang. This was Kim Hyŏn (金現)2). The story about him is concerned with wonders involving tigers
who are really pretty girls, and Kim’s romances. Since the title nang is not added to his name, but he is
merely described as nanggun (郞君), it seems very doubtful whether he was a hwarang or not. In any
case the story has no hints that I can recognize as at all helping in our understanding of the hwarang and
their practices or purposes.
Apart from a few details, such as the Yellow Book and the exact age at which they became
hwarang— always in the teens and mostly early on—these accounts

8) See below page 52. The story of Ch’oyong is in the Yusa 卷二 處容歌.
1) 遺事 卷五 貧女養母
2) Yusa 卷五. The character (郞) is also suffixed to the name of the third century Yŏnorang (延鳥節), but the date
and legend logether make it clear he was not a hwarang.

[page 45]
of individuals really do little more than support the accounts given with regard to the earlier founding of
hwarang by King Chinhŭng. We know that some of them were soldiers; we know some details of the
journeys that some of them took to visit distant mountains—generally the Diamond Mountains. We have
more information about their musical activities. We learn that they could and did retire from the hwarang:
it was not a case of once a hwarang always a hwarang. We have one possible, but very doubtful, instance
of an elderly man, Taemara, being concerned in the administration of hwarang. We have a number of
stories of shamanistic activities.
The correct interpretation of all these facts depends on the attitude which we take towards the
books in which they are recorded. No-one will feel very surprised to find that the military hwarang are
mostly found in the writings of the soldier statesman Kim Pusik, while the eldritch stories of the Yusa
stress the religious element in their activity and their buddhist connections. But this division depending on
prejudice and personality is a valuable reminder that the apparent distinction in time, by which the
military lads all appear to have lived in the first century of hwarang history, and which may lead us to a
simple explanation by which after the occasion of war was removed the institution deteriorated until it
became effete, is not necessarily valid in all respects. Because the military stories are all done with by the
middle of the seventh century, it does not follow that the dancing and singing and courting of spirits never
happened in the same early period, or were not equally important at that time.
On the other hand it must be admitted that the accounts of the institution of hwarang, backed by
the quotation from Ch’oe Ch’iwŏn, are very late indeed. It could be argued that they represent a late
tradition, emphasizing the current activities of hwarang in the late [page 46] Silla period, whereas in their
earlier days it was the warriors of Hwangsan who had been typical of the institution and its purpose. This
is the common interpretation given today. Unfortunately it is not in fact the only possible interpretation of
the sources, nor necessarily the best from the historian’s point of view. It is as likely that the warrior boys
were a transitory phenomenon in an institution which was primarily religious or moral. I have pointed out
several times already the details which I believe weaken the case for interpreting the hwarang as
essentially military, even in the Sagi accounts of the heroes. It seems most likely that hwarang were to the
people of Silla something of what the Boy Scouts or the Boys’ Brigade have been to the English in this
century: a band of adolescents of high purpose, who could not avoid being both religious and at least
quasi-military, sometimes very military, because that was the nature and need of the society in which they
lived.

VIII The Hwarang Songs.

Our knowledge of the vernacular poetry of Silla is restricted to a meagre collection of fourteen
pieces, usually known as hyangga (鄉歌), preserved in the Samguk Yusa. It is not usual to doubt that they
really represent the songs of the period they claim to come from. The only other poems of the same genre
are those of the monk Pyŏn Kyunyŏ ( 邊 均 如 ). There are eleven of these. He lived from 917 to 973,
spending most of his life under the Koryo ( 高 麗 ) dynasty after the disintegration of Silla. His eleven
surviving poems are recorded in a biography compiled in 1070 (Kyunyŏ Chŏn 均 如 傳 ). They are
buddhist, didactic and devotional. Thus all the texts we have of Silla poetry are very late.
The study of these poems is fraught with many difficulties, not least linguistic ones, owing to the
fact that they are written in the complex system called idu ( 吏 讀 ) using Chinese now ideographically,
now phonet- [page 47] ically, in a primitive and clumsy attempt to record native Korean sentences. The
initial work of deciphering these poems in modern times was done by Dr Ogura Shimpei ( 小倉進平)3).
But the labours of this great pioneer have been largely superseded by the work of Dr Yang Chudong 4).
Although there are debatable matters yet in the details of understanding the hyangga, the
conclusions of Dr Yang are at least sufficiently established to give us a fair interpretation of the songs
insofar as they affect our knowledge of the hwarang. But since the original texts are meaningless without
extensive linguistic commentary, it seems that it will be enough here if I offer straightforward translations
into English, prescinding from the discussion of either the philological or the literary aspects of the
poems. The curious can refer to Dr Yang’s work and to the notes in such a work as Dr Kim Sayŏp’s
history of Korean literature5) of which I have also made considerable use.
However, I will prefix the translations with the note that at least three names are used to describe
this genre. The names are hyangga (鄉歌), tonnorae or tosolga (兜率歌), and saenaennorae (詞腦歌 or
思 內 歌 ). The etymology of these words is a matter for discussion, but we shall not be far from the
meaning of them if we regard it as being “Korean song”, except in the case of tosolga, which could also
be a religious hymn, and must be mentioned again more specifically later.
The corpus contains six songs that were written by hwarang or about hwarang. Two them are by
one man, so five authors are represented. One of them is apparently defective. Again it will be best to take
them in chronological order as nearly as possible.

3) 鄉歌 及 吏讀研究 Seoul, 1929.

4) Op. cit., above page 7 note 2. Many writers treat the Toijang-ga (悼二 將歌) of the eleventh century as hyangga,
bnt their form is notably different.
5) 金恩库: 改稿國文學史 Seoul 1956.

[page 48]
The first claims to be quite early, from the reign of Chinp’yŏng (579-632). It has already been
referred to6)

The Song of the Comet (彗星歌)

See the fort by the Eastern Sea

Where Gandarva used to play.
 The islanders have come,
There are the beacon flames.

But the moon, hearing

The Three Flower Boys are visiting the hills

Quickly shows her beams.

A star sweeps a road.
Some say: “See, a broom-star!”

Lo! The moon has gone down.

Now, what comet could this be?

According to the Yusa story7) the author was the buddhist monk Yungch’ ŏn ( 融 天 師 ). The
Gandharva (乾達婆) are the musicians of Indra, the sky god, associated with the moon and medicine, and
also with ecstasy and eroticism. Yang Chudong suggests that the whole phrase means a mirage 8). The
word for comet is etymologically “broom-star”.
The song is not by a hwarang, it adds nothing to what we have already learned from the
accompanying story about the three youths and their connection with the buddhist monk. It is of interest
to us in the hwarang connection, chiefly as indicating what their songs could be like. The same is true of
most of the following songs too.

6) Above page 33.

7) Cf. above page 33 note 1.
8) Op. cit. page 574.

[page 49]
The next song is the one written by Siro about the senior hwarang, Taemara. In spite of the doubt
referred to above about the Yusa’s dating of this story, it seems reasonable to attribute the song to the
reign of Hyoso (692-702), or earlier.9)

Song of Yearning for the Flower Boy Taemara (慕竹旨郞歌)

The whole world weeps sadly

For departing Spring.
Wrinkles lance
Your once handsome face.
For the space of a glance
May we meet again.

Fair lord, what hope for my burning heart?

How can I sleep in my alley hovel?

Again there is little here to detain us, beyond noting the intensity of the expression of devotion.
About fifty years later come the next two songs, from the reign of Kyŏngdŏk (742-765), both by
the same singer, Wŏlmyŏng.1) Wŏlmyŏng was no longer a hwarang when the songs were written, but he
states clearly enough that the first of the two was written in the hwarang style. In the Yusa it is described
as a tosolga. In other connections this word is taken to refer to the refrain or genre of Korean songs of
Silla,2) but in this case it is undoubtedly an ordinary buddhist term and refers to the Tusita Heaven ( 兜率
天) within which is the pure land of Maitreya. In fact this is a devout song in honour of Maitreya. It is
unusual in that the Yusa itself provides a Chinese paraphrase of it.

9) See above page 40. Also, for an earlier date and another interpretation of the song, Sin Susik (辛秀植:) in 국어국
문학 No. 23, Seoul, 1961. Pp. 13ff.
1) See above page 42.
2) Cf. Yang Chudong op. cit. page 525.

[page50]
兜 率 歌
龍 樓 此 日 散 花歌
挑 送 靑 雲 一 片花
殷 重 直 心 之 聊使
遠 邀 兜 率 大 僊家

Or, in translation from the Korean:

The Tusita Hymn

O flowers scattered here today,

As we sing the scattered petals song,
Heed the orders of this upright heart
And haste to serve Maitreya’s throne.

It is notable that the character used to indicate Maitreya in the Chinese translation ( 僊 ) is a
variant of the character ( 仙 ) used so often to indicate the hwarang themselves. According to the story
Maitreya answered the prayer in person.
The second song is a prayer for a departed soul.

Song for a Dead Sister (爲亡妹營齋歌)

Here is the road of life and of death.

Were you afraid
When you left, not even saying:
“I am going now”?

Like fallen leaves borne here and there

On the early autumn wind,
Though born from the same branch
We know not whither we go.

How I strive to perfect my road, waiting

To meet you in the abode of Amitabha.

This is strictly a buddhist song, relevant to hwarang solely because of the history of the author.
The next song dates from the same reign, and is attributed to the monk Ch’ungdam (忠談師). Its
con-[page 51] nection with hwarang is merely that it praises one of them. The Yusa1) gives no further
information about the circumstances of its composition.
 Song in Praise of the Flower Boy Kilbo (讚耆婆郞歌)

Moon
Appearing fitfully
Trailing the white clouds,
Whither do you go?

The face of the Flower Boy Kilbo

Was reflected in the pale green water.
Here among the pebbles of the stream
I seek the bounds of the heart he bore.

Ah, ah! Flower Boy hero,

Noble pine that fears no frost!

There is little here to comment on for the sake of learning more about the hwarang. At this
distance of time it is hard even to perceive the exact nuance of the emotion. But we do know that the
author was in the habit of making a libation of tea every year to Maitreya at the Samhwaryŏng ( 三花嶺),
which may have been a hwarang memorial.
The last of the series is the latest song recorded by the Yusa, and possibly the most famous of all.
It is said to date from the time of Hŏn’gang (875-886). It is the shaman song that passed into the
repertoire of the Koryŏ dynasty in an extended form and was believed potent against diseases. 2)
Neverthless on reading its earliest version one is subject to many imaginative possibilities as to what its
origin may have been. It belongs to the story of Ch’ ŏyong.3)

1) See above page 43.

2) Cf Kim Sa-yop, op. cit., page 291.
3) See above page 44.

[page52]
Chŏyongs Song (處容歌)

Playing in the moonlight of the capital

Till the morning comes,
I return home
To see four legs in my bed.
Two belong to me.
Whose are the other two?
But what was my own
Has been taken from me. What now?

Again the text of the song adds nothing to what we can learn from the story itself as already
recounted.
In fact the songs do not materially help in our reconstruction of the hwarang picture at all. They
are interesting as being the nearest we are ever likely to get to the actual words and thoughts of the
hwarang. But even so they are full of obscurities and difficulties It is easy but dangerous to treat modern
translations of such old texts as though the full implications of the English were present in the mind of the
original writer. We cannot accurately fathom the emotions of their structure and meaning. But they do
give us a glimpse of the degree of sophistication to which poetry in Old Korea had arrived, and infuse a
little life into our discussion of p’ungnyu.4)
 4) After completing the above section on the hwarang songs I first had opportunity to examine Peter Lee’s
Studies in the Saenaennorae — Old Korean Poetry (Serie Orientale Roma XXII), Rome 1959. This was the first
discussion of the poems of Silla to be published in the English language, and is of great interest to readers of English
who are not familiar with Korean. It is in the main a digest of Dr Yang’s work.
Mr. Lee translates hwarang as ‘knight.’ I believe I shall have here adequately demonstrated why I believe this
to be a misleading translation. His versions of the songs differ in several respects from my translations given above.
I notice in addition that Mr Lee seems not to have been acquainted with Mishina’s book on the hwarang, and
so he accepts the fact that Taemara was still a hwarang though in old age, and thus commits himself to the
corresponding interpretation of the song and story in question. (Op. cit. page 106).

[page53]
VIII The Hwarang after Silla

Fascinating though the problem of the hwarang of Silla is. it is scarcely more fascinating than
the problem of how they faded from the scene. That the institutions of any dynasty should become effete
with the decline of the ruling power is not in itself remarkable, and this seems to what happened to the
hwarang. I think that Professor Reischauer has begged altogether too many questions in his statement that
“The Hwarang bands lost their fighting prowess and degenerated into groups of effeminate dilettantes” 5)
partly because he relies on the common modern idea that the hwarang were primarily warriors, but also
because the word effeminate seems stronger than the evidence will support.
Indeed the factor that makes the disappearance of the hwarang so interesting is the suggestion
that their development was not so much a matter of degeneration as of specialisation in some aspects of
their original activities in the changed conditions of later society. I said early in this paper that the
lexicography of our subject shows that the word hwarang has come to be connected with shamans and
travelling singers. Since music and religion are significant elements in our earliest descriptions of
hwarang, it seems altogether too much to ask us to believe that some vital sea-change overtook the
hwarang of late Silla and they changed their character completely, although that is the view that some
modern writers would urge us to take.
There is however the danger of the contrary error, which would ride equally rough shod over the
paucity of the evidence and accept as proven what is in my view only the best tenable hypothesis, that the
hwarang were a religious cult that was the direct ancestor of the

5) E. O. Reischauer and J. K. Fairbank, East Asia the Great Tradition, London,I960, page 415.

[page 54]
later dancing boys. This is the view represented by Ayukai and Mishina.
The writers of the Koryŏ period (918-1392) have a group of references to the subject that read
more like reminiscences than historical accounts, explaining Koryŏ facts in terms of Silla history. The
material has been fully collected by the two Japanese scholars, and a full discussion can be found in
Mishina’s work.6)
The key point in the matter seems to be the palgwanhoe ( 八 關 會 ) a festival of the Koryŏ
dynasty which is recorded as having been founded in the 33rd year of the reign of Chinhŭng, the Silla
king who organized the hwarang. At this festival the dancing of a group called the sŏllang (仙郞) was a
distinctive feature. I have already quoted the article by An Kyehyŏn 7) in which he argues for an earlier
date for the founding of the p’algwanhoe and also for the fact that the hwarang performed at it from its
inception.
This festival continued to be observed throughout the Koryŏ dynasty, only finally disappearing
with the advent of the Yi and their strictly confucian policies. It was a blend of buddhist with earlier
Korean religious elements. In the later days the sŏllang who took part in it were understood by the men of
the time to be the direct descendants of the hwarang. The tradition of touring the country to sing and
dance in the high places was remembered. The four known as the Sasŏn ( 四 仙 ), An Sang ( 安 詳 ),
Yŏngnang(永郞), Sullang (述郞), and Nam Sŏkhaeng (南石行), whose name was later associated with a
religious dance ( 四 仙 舜 ), were especially recalled in the Tongchŏn area. They are clearly the men
mentioned already.8)
In the Koryŏ dynasty the name was given to youths

6) SKK pp 273ff.
7) Above page 19 note 9.

[page 55]
trained in buddhist monasteries, and under the reign of Ch’ungnyŏl (忠烈 1275-1308) the title of sŏllang
was in use for such lads at the palace. 9) And then Ayukai discovered that there was an apparently revived
military significance for the word at this period. But the references suggest that by this time there was an
antiquarian element in ideas about the institution.
There is thus ample evidence that the idea of kuksŏn neither died nor came into disrepute during
the Koryŏ dynasty, although the classic institution and the word itself seem to have been no longer in use.
The next problem is how did the name get transferred to the wandering players, and why did the word
hwarang survive with them when it was a Silla word, and the later words were sŏllang and kuksŏn?
So far as I can discover we have only one literary link between the hwarang and the players8).
This tells us that the masked dance plays and the Ch’ŏyong dance were performed at the p’algwanhoe of
the Koryŏ court. When, during the Yi dynasty, the masked dance play became the property of the lower
classes and its religious origins got more heavily overlaid with peasant satire and slapstick at the expense
of the clergy and gentry, it might be natural for the players to be called by the name they had had in the
days when it had been a court performance.
A possible explanation of the vocabulary difficulty may be suggested by the fact that the Koryŏ
court was centred on the central and north western part of the country, whereas the term hwarang has
survived better in the South and East where the original hwarang had lived.

8) Cf. Tongguk Yŏji Sŭngnam, article on T’ongch’ ŏn (通川). Also above page 41.
9) Cf. SKK pp 287ff. Cf also note on Min Chong yu above page.
8) The details of references to the Koryŏsa and others are given by Yang Chaeyŏn ( 梁在淵 ) in his paper on the
Sandaegŭk (山臺戱) in the 30th Anniversary Commemoration Theses of Chungang University, Seoul 1955.

[page 56]
This area also incidentally represents some of the most strongly buddhist parts of the country during the
Yi dynasty, and the connection between the wandering players and the buddhists is an important one.
Even long after the players had become much busied with satire against the monks, they were normally
sheltered in the temples during the off seasons, and they were at times associated with the bands of
begging monks and others working for the temples or other rural communities and which were called
kŏlliptae (乞粒險) and performed dances and acrobatic tricks very like those done by the troupes of male
entertainers called sadangp’ae (寺堂牌 or 男寺黨牌). Either of these groups might be associated also
with shamanistic activities (kut 굿) and various sacrifices. In any case the troupes would almost certainly
contain boys called hwadong (花童) or hwarang (花郞)9) (For an account of their sexual behaviour see
the following section).
These were a low class of society, generally outcast or even feared by the common people.
Racially many of them derived from the so far little studied mujari ( 무자리 , 揚水尺 )1), the so-called
“Korean gipsies”, who appear in the Three Kingdoms period as nomads keeping cattle and selling
basketwork. In later days they were noted for producing exorcists and as the forbears of the strolling
players, prostitutes, butchers and other low caste trades. They were of very different stock from the first
hwarang, it would seem, but in the end their descendants inherited the hwarang name.
The transference of the hwarang title would seem to have been a natural one. If the latter day
hwarang lacked the qualities that gained universal reverence for their forerunners, at least the popularity
which they did enjoy was based in what were essentially the same activities transferred to another social
plane.

9) cf Ayukai op. cit pp 78ff.

1) cf. Ch’oe Sangsu, A Study of the Korean Puppet Play, Seoul 1961.

[page57]
IX The Question of Homosexuality

The question of homosexuality in connection with hwarang needs to be considered if only

because Ayukai2) has brought it up. But there is also the fact that the latter-day hwarang, the players, are
notoriously a homosexually liable group.
During the Yi dynasty homosexual practices were regarded with disgust by the confucian gentry.
The early apologists of the dynasty held paederasty as one of the crimes of the Koryŏ kings. The most
famous case is the scholar-painter-calligrapher King Kongmin (恭愍王 reigned 1352-1374) who towards
the end of his life appointed royal catamites called chajewi (子弟衛) five of whose names are recorded:
Hong Yun (洪倫), Han An (韓安), Kwŏn Chin (權瑨), Hong Kwan (洪寬) and No Sŏn(盧瑄)3).
The word used to describe homosexual activity in the Koryŏ Sa in this connection is the Chinese
literary expression lung-yang-chih-ch’ung ( 龍 陽 之 寵 , Korean pronunciation yongyang-chi-ch’ong),
which does not have the expected reference to the two male symbols, the dragon and the sun, but refers to
a favourite of the feudal lord of Wei ( 魏 ) who was known as Lung-yang4). This is a very intellectual
expression and has little bearing on the subject in Korea. Like such modern expressions as namsaek (男
色) and the more figurative kyegan (鷄姦) it is literary.
But the Korean language has a native vocabulary on this subject which is not obviously created
by a figurative use of words. In Chinese, as in English, the relevant vocabulary is entirely either figurative
or learnedly concocted. But in Korean we find piyŏk (비역) as a verb and a verbal noun, while both myŏn
(면) and

2) Op. cit. page 36.

3) 高麗史 列傳嬖辛二 金興度傳
4) See 戰國策 卷第二十五 魏四

[page 58]
t’otchangi (톳장이, possibly a figurative expression) are used for a catamite. For native words of no clear
etymological significance to have survived suggests that the practice has at some time had an appreciable
place in the culture.
It is certain that homosexuality was well known in rural society during the Yi dynasty. I have
heard of it from older men in the villages of South Kyŏnggido, and Bishop Cooper has spoken of its
occurrence in the same area at the beginning of this century. There is a vaguely unsavoury reputation
sometimes connected with the chibang yangban (地方兩班) or provincial gentleman, but I heard in the
villages more of the practices of the lower classes, among whom, for instance, paederasty seems to have
formed a recognized outlet for a young widower, and caused very little stigma to be attached to his
favourite who on growing older could turn to normal sexuality in marriage. I was told that the presents,
especially of clothing, given to the boy would make his status public knowledge in the village.
 Something of this is also reflected in the salacious chatter of village youths and in some versions
of the Kkoktu Kaksi (꼭두각시 ) traditional puppet play of Korea. In these the wastrel hero, Pak Ch’ ŏmji
(朴僉知), who is a satire on the provincial yangban, is made to have spent some of his money on a pretty
boy, midongaji ( 美 童 아 지 )5), and a number of coarse homosexual puns are introduced. Collections of
coarse anecdotes such as the Myŏngyŏp Chihae ( 蓂 葉 志 諧 ) of Hong Manjong ( 洪 萬 宗 , flourished,
during the reign of Sukchong 1675-1721) contain tales, though not many, of like ‘import. It is also
noticeable that the essentially innocuous expression used in the Kkoktu Kaksi text referred to, midong (美
童 ), meaning a goodlooking boy, usually carries overtones of paederasty. It is used thus in Korean
translations of the bible to translate the Hebrew qadesh or male prostitute6).

5) Ch’oe Sangsu (崔常壽), A Study of the Korean Puppet Play, Seoul 1961.
6) I Kings xv. 12, xxij. 46, et al.

[page 59]
But the word midong and the reputation for homosexuality were particularly attached to the
wandering players and musicians. It was almost normally assumed that the all male teams used the boys
as catamites. They were dressed attractively, often in girl’s clothes, though not always, and on occasion it
seems that they were also prostituted. Professor Ch’oe Sangsu tells me that regular berdache marriages
were sometimes entered into within the bands, and he has met and interviewed such cases.
Song Sokha in the work already referred to 7) speaks of the namsadang as troupes of peformers
whose chief purpose was to earn money as boy prostitutes, and says that they were formed on the analogy
of the strange husband-and-wife teams for travelling prostitution which were a feature of rural Korea
from the middle of the Yi dynasty onwards. He claims that the male teams were not set in circulation until
the end of the dynasty, but adduces no evidence for this statement. He points out that they were often
associated with buddhist temples and with young monks collecting alms for their establishments. It is in
such a connection that one may come across the word namch’ang (男娼) or boy entertainer.
The namsadang, however, were also associated with shamanistic practices. Very occasionally
one can still meet them performing kosa (告祀) and other religious ceremonies in the Korean countryside,
were the boys have a specific role in the dancing. The connection of shamanism with homosexuality is a
little obscure. Transvestitism is a common and well attested practice for shamans of both sexes, although
in the recent periods transvestitism among Korean adult male shamans does not seem to have been
normal. Homosexuality among the shamans of Siberia is attested by various writers 8),

7) Op. cit. page 102.

8) Cf Ch’oe Namsŏn (崔南善) Salman Kyodapki (薩滿敎剳記) in Kyemyŏng (啓明) No. 19, Seoul, 1927.

[page60]
but modern Korean shamanism has diverged in many respects from the forms found in the more primitive
cultures of north-east Asia, and it would be rash, without further evidence, to suggest too close a relation
between shamanism and homosexuality in this country.
The namsadang itself is not a very clearly defined institution. It shades off into the allied groups
of begging monks on the one hand and into the village farmers’ bands on the other. I do not know of any
really adequate study of this aspect of Yi dynasty society. I know of one case where the village band
maintained a midong chosen for his good looks, who was not expected to work, but to dress prettily and
entertain the labourers. He had reached the age of twenty and still held this position, which was beginning
to be thought of as undesirable by other people. There was no clear imputation of paederasty, but a strong
sense of inversion setting in.
This then is the Korean background on the subject. It is strikingly different from the luxurious
literary and theatrical homosexual tradition in China, and even more so from the glamorized and pseudo-
chivalrous homosexual code of late mediaeval Japan, with its manuals and novelettes. It is a matter
belonging to a lower stratum of Korean life, with possible primitive religious connections, though they
are now exceedingly dim ones. And against that background we must consider Ayukai’s 9) suggestion that
the hwarang of Silla may have been a homosexual cult.
The chief bases for the contention are the constantly stressed prettiness of the boys, their gay
clothes and cosmetics, the extreme of affection displayed in such a story as that of Sadaham 1) and the
foundation myth about the women, especially if the latter is taken in conjunction with the theory that the
hwarang cult was inspired by an ancient shamanistic cult.

9) Op. cit. page 36.

1) See above page 32. Cf. also Siro, above page 39 and An Sang, page 41.

[page61]
Mishina has shown that none of the arguments are conclusive. Even the story of the Miruk
hwarang,2) though it has romantic tones in it, is not necessarily any more homosexual than the poems of
St John of the Cross. On the other hand in any organization of young men inversion is bound to appear to
some degree. To assert that the hwarang never practised it would temerarious in the extreme. Yet it
cannot be proved that it ever occurred at all.
The evidence that after Silla times the people who carried on the name of hwarang of ten
indulged in homosexuality is another matter. I have said enough to show that among them if anywhere
could such activity be found in Korea a couple or more generations ago. It does not by any means mean
that the habit was handed down with the name. There were many other ways also in which the hwarangi
of the Yi dynasty differed from the hwarang of Silla.

X The Hwarang and Buddhism

I have already referred3) to an article by Mr Kim Kwangyŏng in which he attempts to explain

hwarang as a highly imaginative effort on the part of King Chinhŭng to spread the buddhist faith in Silla
by organising a band of young men who would model themselves on the ideal of Maitreya Buddha, as he
had previousy tried to model young women on Avalokiteshvara (觀世音) but failed. Mr Kim adduces in
evidence all the references to Maitreya in the sources on hwarang.
This is an interesting and courageous attempt to align one of the great features of Korea’s past,
one which is today highly valued, with the buddhist faith. While the

2) See above page 2b.

3) Above pages 13 and 24.

[page62]
enthusiastic buddhism of King Chinhŭng and the fact that the hwarang lived in a profoundly buddhist
society are beyond dispute, Mr Kim’s thesis will not, in my opinion, stand. It is interesting as being non-
military, but all the evidence is circumstantial, and none of it constitutes proof.
I have already several times commented on the frequency with which Maitreya appears in the
hwarang source material. Mishina has collected the material together 4) in one section of his book. The
correct way to interpret this material is not clear. The fact is that Maitreya worship was extremely popular
in Silla in the early days of buddhism. Dr Clarke has suggested that this popularity was possibly
connected with earlier devotions of the Koreans and represents a buddhist baptism of some primitive
cult.5) But he admits that this is a suggestion rather than a tenable hypothesis.
Maitreya worship seems to have been a feature of the vanguard of buddhism as it moved
northwards, and was part of the setting in which the hwarang appeared. It is probably the stories about the
visions of young boys and youths that are most striking among the stories relating hwarang with
Maitreya. But even then it is difficult to say exactly why the hwarang visions should have been identified
as Maitreya.
Another interesting story is told of hwarang, the tale of the Sesok Ogye ( 世 俗 五 戒 Five Secular
Commandments). On this the best modern comment is that of Yi Kibaek ( 李 基 白 ) who in his Kuksa
Sinnon (國史新論) has recently said that even though there is no documentary evidence for connecting
the Sesok Ogye with the hwarang, yet there can be no doubt that the Sesok Ogye represent the hwarang
spirit.6) It would seem to me to be more accurate to say that there is no doubt that the Ogye were typical of
the

4) Op cit pages 258 ff.

5) C. A. Clarke Religions of Old Korea, New York, 1932. Page 64.

[page63]
age rather than of the hwarang institution. Naturally the institution reflected the spirit of its times.
The original story occurs in the Samguk Sagi7) and also in the Samguk Yusa.8) It tells how two
youths, Kwisan (貴 山) and Ch’wihang, (箒項) went to visit Wŏn’gwang Pŏpsa (圓光法師) and asked
him for aphoristic teachings by which they could order their lives. Wŏn’gwang was famous as a recent
returnee from study abroad in the Sui period. He flourished a generation later than Chinhŭng, the founder
king of the hwarang. He gave an answer in five commandments which were possible for men to keep
who had not embraced the regular life of a monk with its ten commandments. The commandments were:

Serve the king with loyalty 事君以忠

Serve parents with piety 事親以孝
Treat friends with sincerity 交友以信
Never flee the field of battle 臨戰無退
Do not kill without necessity. 殺生有擇

The mixed confucian and buddhist background of these rules is obvious, and fits well with what
Ch’oe Chiwŏn said of the syncretism of the hwarang, indeed of the period and place. But it seems an
unwarranted assumption to say that this has any more than a merely contemporary relationship with the
hwarang. There is no evidence that Kwisan or his friend were hwarang, though they were certainly
warriors.
I suspect that the reason for the constant repetition of the story of the Ogye in connection with
hwarang is due to the fact that in his Kuksa Taegwan (國史大觀), which is Korea’s most popular general
historical textbook, Professor Yi Pyŏngdo (李丙燾) recounts the

6) Op. cit. page 76.

7) 三國史記 卷第四五 贵山傳
8) 三國遣事 第四 圓光西學

[page 64]
story immediately after he has discussed the hwarang.9) Previous writers, such as Dr Ikeuchi ( 池內宏)
had discussed the Ogye without reference to the hwarang.1)

However reasonable it may be to assume that the Ogye reflect the spirit of the hwarang, it is
impossible, because of the dating, to regard them as a formulation of the hwarang code. It is more than
likely that there was a great deal more to being a hwarang, especially from the religious and musical
points of view, than is described in the Ogye.
XI The Organization of the Hwarang

I have mentioned already the several different hwarang terms which are used to refer to the
members of the movement. I have also pointed out that some sort of authority was on occasion exercised
with the groups even off the battlefield. Some Korean writers have gone so far as to draw up a chart,
albeit a simple one, of the organization of the hwarang bands.2)
It is important to recognize that such an effort represents nothing more than a conjecture,
however reasonable it may be. The terminology is not clearly defined by the sources. Thus the full
significance of kuksŏn as opposed to hwarang is debatable. Some prefer to regard kuksŏn as the national
leader of the whole hwarang movement, others to equate it with hwarang. Either case may be plausibly
supported.
There is also good reason to think that hwarang were noble and that they led the larger groups of
followers called nangdo or some similar name. It is easier to support the idea that hwarang were the
officers of

9) Kuksa Taegwan, Seoul. 1957 edition, page 127. But cf. also the novel Wŏnhyo Taesa (元曉大師) by Yi Kwangsu
(李光洙) (Seoul 1956 edition) page 223.
1) Eg. Shigaku Zasshi 史學雜誌, 四五編 八號, Tokyo 1929, page 30.
2) Eg. Yi Sŏn’gŭn, op cit, page 13.

[page 65]
the movement than that all the members were properly called hwarang, but here again the evidence of the
sources is not definitive.
Finally we must note that the Samguk Yusa contains two titles, hwaju and hwap’an, which are
not easily fitted into the hierarchy at all, although the hwaju at least had considerable disciplinary powers.
The solution may possibly lie in in some as yet unexplored possibility that the terms we have in Chinese
are transcriptions of a smaller number of Korean words.
As for the ceremonial usages of the hwarang, we have no idea whatsoever as to what they were.
Intelligent guesses might be made, but no more.
Nor can we say anything with certainty about their discipline, though it seems clear enough that
they had something of the sort. And we have no idea as to how much life they had in common apart from
their excursions.

XII Conclusion

So the material available on the hwarang still leaves us with more questions unanswered than we
would like, and therefore with the temptation to interpret the evidence to suit our own predilections.
Certain facts stand out clear and indisputable. The institution in its finest form appeared when
Silla was at a crucial juncture of its political, social and cultural history. It was composed of young lads in
large numbers, with a story that they replaced women who had fulfilled the same function before them.
They were an elite, and out of them sprang great citizens and soldiers. They were great travellers and
music was an important part of their activity.
Then there are slightly less obvious facts, such as that a man did not necessarily remain a
hwarang for life.
[page66]
Beyond this we are in the realm of interpretation. 3) The most popular one for some time has been
the one which reads the evidence in terms of modern patriotism and stresses the mililtary aspect at the
expense of all else.
Another point of view siezes on all the religious indications in in the sources, and would regard
the hwarang as a kind of shaman, or at least a shamanistic type of institution.
 A third, of which I have said nothing further because it seems to me that there is so very little
justification for it, is the explanation of hwarang in terms of an educational movement as such a thing is
understood today.
The same kind of considerations influence the way in which different people will prefer to
explain the origin of the hwarang, whereas all we can say for certain is that they were organized into their
final form by King Chinhŭng.
As with so much else in early Korean history, we know something of the external facts but we
cannot be sure of the heart of the matter. The hwarang of Silla remain for us a pageant of beautiful boys,
dancing in the mist with powdered faces and jewelled shoes, softening an age of barbaric splendour with
their adolescent gentleness as much they ennobled it with their courage. The mist adds its own fascination
to the picture. Like the boys themselves, it is as native to Korea as her blue hills.

3) Yet even so careful a work as Evelyn McCune’s The Arts of Korea (Tokyo 1962) makes statements about
hwarang for which there is no evidence in the sources. Op. cit. pages 81 and 91.
Some notes on the Sŏnggyun’gwan
by Kim Chongguk (金鍾國 )
done into English by Kim Chinman (金鎭萬 )

[page 69]
SOME NOTES ON THE SŎNGGYUN’GWAN

The beginnings of an ancient academic institution are not always clear, so one can only hint at a
probable date or year in which, for instance, the University of Oxford began. Although authorities tell us
that Balliol came into existence as a corporate college sometime between 1261 and 1266, and Peterhouse
in 1284 at Cambridge, it is safer merely to say that the oldest English universities as universities started
towards the end of the thirteenth century. Now, towards the end of the thirteenth century, when flocks of
somewhat disgruntled clerks, as they were called, of English origin were migrating from Paris to Oxford,
Korea too had its clerks gathering at the capital city of the Kingdom of Koryŏ to be trained in the classics
of Confucius and his disciples. These confucian scholars were perhaps more secular than their English
contemporaries, but had reasons to be even more disgruntled, for the dominant fashion of the day was
Buddhism and their own learning and idols had been grossly neglected.
Where, as in this country, chronological precedence matters a great deal, it is indeed gratifying
to recall that Korea began institutionalizing her higher learning far ahead of many of the Western nations.
It would seem that the idea of an academic institution being requisite to the foundation of a monarchy was
very early established in this country. As early as in the year 372 ，when the country was divided into
three rival kingdoms, Koguryŏ had the Taehak (太學) or Great School; in 682, King Sinmun ( 神文) of
Silla opened the Kukhak (國學) or National School; then again the founding monarch of Koryŏ had his
school in what is now Pyŏngyang, which one of his successors, King Sŏngjong, in the tenth century
reorganized into a national seat of learning after the T’ang model. By this time, the capital and the school
had moved to Kaesŏng and stayed there until the founder of the Yi [page 70] Dynasty chose this city of
Seoul as the capital of the new kingdom.
To go back to the waning days of Koryŏ or towards the end of the thirteenth century in Korea
with its unhappy clerks, the state of affairs was extremely unsettling, or at least seemed so to our youthful
confucian scholars and their teachers. High matters of state were heavily interfered with by corrupt
buddhist monks; the number of buddhist temples in the country far exceeded the need for the people’s
spiritual care; then, on top of all that, the kingdom was visited by ravages of repeated war both at home
and abroad. However, the cause of confucian learning was not without some able champions. An Hyang
(安 珦 ) was one of the them; Nodang ( 露 堂 )，supposedly the author of the old collection of Chinese
maxims called Myŏngsim Pogam ( 明 心 寶 鑑 ) or the Precious Mirror of the Pure Heart, was another.
These and others of high aademic repute at the time lamented the situation and were convinced that it
could only be mended by a vigorous revival of confucian learning. Their sentiments are nowhere better
shown than in these moving lines of An Hyang:

香 燈 處 處 皆 祈 佛
絲 管 家 家 競 祀 神
惟 有 數 間 夫 子 廟
滿 庭 秋 草 寂 無 人

Buddha is prayed to in every lighted house,

Ghosts are served with drums and flutes.
But, lo! the shabby shrine of Confucius stands
Untended in its yard rank with autumn weeds.
 It may be of historical relevance to recall here that in China, by the time the Sung dynasty came
to an end, confucianism had seen a renaissance in the monumental achievements of Master Chu ( 朱熹)
and his circle, or the neo-Ju rationalist revival. It too had not been without rivals; a deep ingress had been
made by [page 71] buddhism into the metaphysics of the traditional confucianism and it died very hard
indeed. Only by incorporating the best there was in its rivals could the Sung confucianism assert its full
force as a new moral, social and metaphysical system. It was this form of confucianism which eventually
became the orthodoxy of Korea.
So, to come back to Koryo, in the memorable year 1304 An Hyang and his colleagues succeeded
in refounding the national school and, at the same time, contrived to send one of the teachers to China to
procure portraits of Confucius and his many disciples, together with ceremonial and musical instruments
to be installed at the Taesongjon ( 大成殿) or Hall of Great Sage, which was duly completed in June of
the same year. This in fact was the beginning of what succeeding gererations have known to this day as
the Sŏnggyun’gwan. Thus rekindled as the confucian candle was, it flickered for too short a time. The
real revival of the traditional learning had to have an absolute support from the state, which came only
when Koryŏ finally collapsed, and the founder of the new monarchy decided to do away with monks and
to establish the supremacy of confucianism as the moral and philosophical foundation of his kingdom.
This was in 1392, and some thirty years before, China had also seen a change in dynasty, namely from
Yuan to Ming.
Whether confucianism is a religion or not is largely an academic question. If indeed it is one, it
was firmly ‘established’ by the Yi Dynasty. With this dynasty, confucianism was perhaps something
more important, certainly more comprehensive, than the English word ‘Establishment’ would suggest
today. It was not only the state-established religion—again if it was a religion—not merely did it
develope its own elaborate rituals and ceremonies observed under the supervision of state-appointed
officials, but every single civil servant of any importance, from a Prime Minister to a district- [page 72]
governor, was invariably drawn from its ranks. The ancient system of civil service examination of
Chinese origin had been transplanted into Korea during the previous dynasty, and it was formulated
mainly to test the proficiency of each candidate in the mastery and interpretation of set confucian classics.
Now the importance of the Sŏnggyun’gwan obtained from the fact that all these supreme functions of the
state were either centred on it or performed within its premises.
First, the rituals and ceremonies. A visitor to the Sŏnggyun’gwan University today, on entering
its precincts located immediately next door to the Secret Garden (秘 苑)，will be deeply impressed by a
group of well-preserved old buildings to his right. Marred and destroyed by war or fire, and rebuilt or
repaired over the centuries, these quaint but stately structures have stood there to serve the cause of
confucianism in this country. And none of them is more important than the largest and the most
magnificent of the group, that is, the Hall of the Great Sage. At the moment, the shrine contains the
ceremonial tablets of twenty-four sages and wise men of all ages besides, of course, that of the Great
Master. The number of tablets enshrined in the Hall has varied, and during the Koryŏ and Yi periods, the
preponderance of Chinese sages over native confucian scholars was hardly questioned. Since 1945
however, this has been changed: of the twenty-four, besides Confucius, only six Chinese masters now
have their places in the Hall, including Mencius and Master Chu, and all the rest are taken up by Koreans.
The more prominent of the eighteen Koreans thus honoured and commemorated are: Ch’oe Chiwŏn(崔致
遠), the greatest literary figure of Silla; An Hyang, the founding father of the Sŏng-gyun’gwan; Chŏng
Mongju(鄭夢周) the last defender of Koryo; Yi Toegye (退溪), and Yi Yulgok (栗谷), the most eminent
pair of native philosophers.
Then, here was, and still is, the very core of the entire institution, a Confucian shrine, where for
the last [page 73] six and half centuries, the great seasonal rites of the Sŏkchŏn ( 釋 尊 ), have been
performed twice a year with few interruptions. Sŏkchŏn means literally to display, that is, to display those
commemorative tablets to the souls of the deceased sages and masters. The sŏkchŏn ceremonies used to
be a grand affair. Preparations for a proper sŏkchŏn would start at least three days before the actual
service, and these involved a thorough cleaning of the premises, organizing officials and the
Sŏnggyun’gwan resident scholars into multifarious duty-groups, receipt and inspection of offerings,
which consisted of rice and other grain, fruits and beef, dried meat and cow’s heads. Then, there was to be
a grand rehearsal on the afternoon before, complete with music and dancing. In the meantime, the
government would carry out administrative formalities by appointing various officials to preside over and
assist at the service. Theoretically, the king himself was to head the list, but the duty of Grand Master of
the Ceremony, so to speak, usually devolved on the Minister of li (禮), or Ceremonies and Education, of
the day.
The sŏkchŏn proper started in the early hours of the appointed day with drums and musical
performance in the fullest glow of enormous torch-lights lighting the stairs leading from the front garden
up to the sacred depository of the sages’ tablets. Then, in the nine prescribed and well-rehearsed stages of
the rite, a great pageantry would unfurl itself. Throughout the ceremony, incense was profusely burned,
varieties of stately ceremonial dances were introduced, addresses and invocations were rendered, and
finally, traditional instrumental music, designed to fit each succeeding stage of the ceremony and played
by court musicians, completed the solemnity of this great state occasion. When at last the service was
over and all the dignitaries retired from the scene, the grain and fruits and meat that had been offered to
the sages were shared between the royal household and the resident scholars of the S ŏnggyun’gwan.
[page74]
As was mentioned before, this seasonal rite of the sŏkchŏn performed as a sign of respect for
great men of the past has persisted to this day, with, of course, various modifications. In 1949 ， the
Congress of the Korean Confucian Association (韓國儒道會), decided to observe it once every year on
the Great Master’s birthday but to retain every essential detail of the age-old ceremonial tradition.
It is significant that the sŏkchŏn and every other confucian ceremony held within the premises of
the Sŏnggyun’gwan were actively participated in by the scholars residing there. Indeed, their active
attendance at the ceremonies was part and parcel of their education. Then, at times. the reigning monarch
of the day himself would come to the sŏkchŏn to pay his homage. At these times, something more
immediately exciting to the scholars took place, for the top-level civil service examination, the ‘Great’
(大試), was often administered in the royal presence. To pass the Great, preferably with honours, was the
sole object of each of the scholars of the Sŏnggyun’gwan. That alone gave meaning to their studious life
in the institution and hope for their future career.
At this point, perhaps, a brief survey of the educational system of the Yi Dynasty is in place. The
underlying philosophical foundation of the system, which had been practised since even before the Yi
Dynasty, was scarcely different from that of its Chinese prototype. The ideals and objectives of the
confucian education in this country as in China are neatly summed up by the name of the institution under
review: sŏng of Sŏnggyun meaning ‘to perfect or develop human nature’, and kyun ‘to build a good
society’. In other words, Confucian education was aimed at developing human nature and bringing about
a good, morally well-balanced society; and this was possible through diligently learning and following the
precepts laid down in the teachings of the Masters. The author, whoever it may be, of the [page 75] Great
Learning (大學), one of the so-called ‘Four Books’, wrote that ‘the way of Great Learning is to illustrate
illustrious virtue, to renovate the people, and to abide in the sovereign good.’ In practical terms, however,
it served as a means to obtain governmental appointment. Confucius himself taught his pupils “li or the
ceremonial arts, his main subject, as well as writing, numbers, and oratory.” He thought that these were
enough to qualify his boys for government positions. Since his time, one of the cardinal principles of
confucian philosophy had been to maintain that only qualified men should rule, and the logical way of
selecting future officials was to institute the kind of civil service examination that was set to the
Sŏnggyun’gwan scholars. The Sŏnggyun’gwan was not the only government school that there was in Yi
dynasty Korea. Seoul alone had, besides the Sŏnggyun’gwan, four intermediary schools that went by the
names of their respective localities within the city. East, West, North and South; counties and townships
in the provinces had their own public schools of varying size and level. These latter ones were called
hyanggyo (鄉校). Then, every village had at least a sŏdang (書堂)，or private village school where a
fierce-looking old teacher used to teach the village urchins the rudiments of reading and writing.
Technical schools of various sorts too had a place in the system, but only a very minor place, for technical
skills as distinct from the pursuit of the orthodox learning were largely relegated to the people of less
fortunate or humbler origin. At these, were taught foreign languages such as Chinese, Japanese and
Mongolian, medicine, astronomy, geomancy, augury, accounting, law, painting and music.
Now, how would a boy of eligible family go about working up to the royal presence in which he
sat for the Great Examination? A typical course open to a boy of seven or eight (Korean age) was to join
his playmates at the village school to learn the rudiments. Then, at the age of fifteen or so, he would move
on to one of the provincial public schools or one of the four [page76] schools in the capital where he
would wrestle with the famous Four Books of the Analects, the Great Learning, the Book of Mencius, and
the Doctrine of the Mean. It would take him normally five or six years to master the set classics and to get
himself ready to take the Primary Examination. When he passed the Primary, that is, the second of the
two stages of which the Primary consisted and which usually took place at the Sŏnggyun’gwan, he was
awarded a chinsa ( 進 士 ) or bachelor’s diploma and made eligible for the coveted entry into the
Sŏnggyun’gwan.
The Sŏnggyun’gwan was a great place for a high-minded youth to set his mind on, because not
only did it accomodate the very cream of the intellectual crop of the nation and provide them with
instruction of the highest order, but it was there at the Sŏnggyun’gwan that the final stages of nearly all
the examinations were given. Advantages accruing from membership of the Sŏnggyun’gwan did not end
there. In theory, the Great examination was a three stage selection. At the first stage, the number of the
places to compete for was 230, of which no less than fifty places were more or less permanently reserved
for the scholars who fulfilled the residental requirements at the Sŏnggyun’gwan. Moreover, the
Sŏnggyun’gwan scholars of better academic records were altogether exempted from the first ordeal and
could go straight way to the second but practically final examination which selected 33 successful
contestants. At the third stage, or the so-called Court Selection (殿試), nobody failed but the thirty-three
men were summoned before the royal presence, either at the court or again at the Sŏnggyun’gwan, merely
to be graded.
What was the life of the scholars like? What were the residential requirements? It seems that by
the end of the sixteenth century the daily life of the scholars at the Sŏnggyun’gwan had been clearly
established. From the beginning of its existence, the Sŏnggyun’gwan was meant to be a residential
college with a lecture-hall [page 77] and two wings of dormitories, East and West, the Hall of Great Sage
in front, and a quadrangle behind not unlike that of any typical Oxford college. These buildings and the
garden with the two gingko trees as old as the institution have been preserved intact and the area today is
the most pleasant and beautiful spot in the Sŏnggyun’gwan University precincts. This part of the
establishment, the Myŏngnyundang ( 明倫堂 )， or lecture-hall, being its centre, served the educational
part of the mission given to the Songgyungwan and therefore was rightfully the precursor of the modern
University.
The books set for the scholars to study were all the canonical classics. Then there were countless
commentaries, expositions, etc., to assist the scholars in acquiring a better understanding of the basic
literature of confucian philosophy. On the other hand, books not to be read and not to be possessed were
equally clearly defined, namely, anything that had anything to do with buddhism or taoism. Heresies of
any persuasion were never left unchecked, the orthodoxy being Sung confucianism. It was in fact
unimaginable that scholars with the life-or-death state examination in view had the leisure or inclination
to dally with a hundred flowers. They had no other business to be there than to prepare themselves for the
examination and the civil service career to follow, which was about the only way open to any confucian
to realize the highest ideals of his scholarship.
 The instruction in li or the ritualistic sciences as initiated by Confucius was an immense
improvement on the teaching of the six arts or the Chinese trivium and quadrivium practised in ancient
China for the benefit of the sons of overlords and aristocrats. Then it was further improved in the later
stage of the Master’s pedagogical career when he introduced into his curriculum history and poetry, thus
widening its scope which had previously been restricted to ethics and politics. A [page 78] Chinese
authority tells us that poetry played a vital part in diplomatic intercou rse, in which ancient odes were
often quoted not only to show the speaker’s good breeding, but also to illustrate and support by subtle
implication the argument to be advanced. Especially among his younger students, both these subjects
were studied with increasing interest, and the literary tradition of K’ung school was thus established.
And true to this tradition, our scholars at the Sŏnggyun’gwan were encouraged to study histories,
and to read and compose poetry. The classics in this connexion were: the Book of Changes, the Book of
Poetry, the Book of History, and the Spring and Autumn Annals. In point of fact, a tutorial system of a
very rigorous sort spiced with various forms of punishment, including flogging, was in full play,
something which their modern successors do not enjoy. Scholars at the Sŏnggyun’gwan, rather as the
undergraduates at English universities, were required to turn out essays of imposing length and substance
regularly, and these would be individually subjected to severe criticism by their tutors. To one who had
the audacity to present his work to the tutor written in disorderly or grass writing ( 草書), or who came up
with nothing better than a mere, last minute patch-work, proper punishment was meted out. It would seem
that the middle ten days of each month were exclusively dedicated to purely literary exercises. So those
future contestants for civil service prizes were made to produce a solid amount of poetry —verses of
varied length, rhyme, and metrical scheme. The Muse was fairly regularly strained while they laboured to
copy the best in the vast corpus of the Chinese classical poetry. Succinctness and clarity of expression
were meritorious; any show of eccentricity or vulgarity was fatal.
Essay-writting was equally important, for this, with poetical composition and textual exposition
of confucian classics, made up the three papers of the [page 79] Great Examination.
A visitor to the Myŏngnyundang, which, besides being the main lecture-hall of the
Sŏnggyun’gwan, served as the hallowed site of the state examination, will see a picture hanging on one of
its walls, which depicts the scene of the selection at work. The lecture-hall on these occasions was the
place where the judges sat and so was partitioned off by a white curtain from the courtyard where the
scholars of the Sŏnggyun’gwan among the other contestants would exert their last full measure of
scholarship. Here again, the men of the Sŏnggyun’gwan played the game on their own home ground, as it
were, and the psychological advantage resulting therefrom must have been considerable. The handicap
thrown on an aspirant who worked up his way tortuously from an obscure provincial fringe to this final
contest was as considerable in this respect as indeed in any other.
The discipline imposed on the residents of the Sŏnggyungwan was by any standard severe even
without the rigours of the playing field. Their working day began at about four o’clock in the morning and
breakfast was served at the Yanghyŏn’go ( 養 賢 庫 ), or Hall for Nourishing Wisdom, only after the
scholars had dressed themselves properly and done a set portion of early morning reading. In the nature of
the confucian philosophy, whose disciples they were meant to be, the least infraction on their part of the
ethical code propounded by the Masters was simply intolerable and was met by expulsion. The number of
unhappy souls ‘sent down’ from the college in this way is not known, but the code of conduct ( 學令 )
preserved to this day in a written form would suggest that what was required of the resident scholars of
the Sŏnggyun’gwan was hardly less than a well-regulated, monastic life. Regulations governing the
conduct outside the school-work would bear some striking analogy to any standard set of mediaeval,
Western monastic rules: no [page 80] hunting or fishing, no gambling or archery exercises, no arrogance
towards superiors, no extravagance in clothing and other habit, no horse-riding, no excess amount of
leave, and finally, no violation of curfew. Wearing prescribed uniforms during working hours was strictly
enforced and the eighth and twenty-third days of each month were designated as the scholars’ washing
days. These uniforms, a sample of which is displayed at the President’s office of the Sŏnggyun’gwan
University, were inevitably closely imitative of their Chinese prototypes—broad-sleeved robes, with silk
girdles, originally of red but later of blue colour. Hence, a scholars’ classlist was called a ‘Blue Robe
Book’ (Chŏnggŭm Nok 靑矜錄). What was missing from the imposing list of ‘dont’s’ was one on keeping
pets, but then this habit which seems to have been widely cultivated within the mediaeval monasteries and
convents in the West very much to the chagrin of high ecclesiastics, has never thrived in this country.
Wine-drinking, unless excessive or habitual, was tolerable, for kings would grant their favourite scholars
jugs of wine in token of encouragement, but women had no more place here than in a monastery or
indeed in Oxford or Cambridge colleges before their reformation in the last century.
After all, the classics and commentaries on them on the one hand, and the amount of literary
exercises on the other, that there were before the scholars demanding most studious labour of them, that is
to say, the serious work to do and to do both quickly and superbly, was too enormous to allow them any
idle and wayward thoughts or habits. Moreover, the institution was in the most strict sense a government
one, the modern equivalents existing in this country today being the military service academies only. The
institution depended upon the initiative and support of the government of the day for its sheer existence:
the faculty was provided, the students fed, housed and clothed, by the government. [page 81]
The greatest offence a scholar could commit or the severest punishment he could thereby incur
upon himself, which could often amount to denying him the chance to take the examination, was to make
any disparaging remark about the Masters or to fail to show due respect to them. Irresponsible criticism of
the government, involvement in party politics, of which the Yi Dynasty had more than its proper share, or
open flattery of authority or courting men of influence for government positions—these were anathema
second in iniquity only to an open avowal of heresy.
Notwithstanding the unusual stringency of the discipline imposed on the conduct of individual
scholars, the society of scholars collectively was neither completely divorced from, nor above, politics. In
fact, the corporate life of the scholars was not without moments of excitement and agitation. Those were
the precious occasions when the future rulers exercised their collective critical conscience with respect to
the actual conduct of the affairs of the state, to put their collective moral integrity and courage to the test
and to present to the authorities their collective will and judgment on particular matters in unmistakable
terms. In the light of the best teachings of their masters, for them not to do so would have been unjust. So,
they had the right to protest, and not infrequently exercised that right, and more often than not obtained
what they wanted either from the Crown or from its functionaries.
The governmental structure of the Yi dynasty had an administrative provision within its
framework by which the reigning monarch was subjected to advice, criticism, and even correction by a
learned body of high-ranking officials. Saganwŏn (司諫院) was the title of the office. Then, whenever the
government went against the popular judgment of the people or ran counter to the established principles
of good government, virtually any confucianist in the country was free to present his case in writing to his
ruler. The lot of such [page 82] a petitioner was not always an easy one. In a number of known cases,
petitions failed miserably and the petitioners, individually or en masse, suffered various forms of
persecution, from disqualification for civil service examination to death.
It is not surprising that of all the written protests and petitions, none drew more governmental
attention than those presented by the Sŏnggyungwan scholars, and no small number of cases in which the
whole school marched to the court with petitions (yuso 儒疏) are proudly recorded in the annals of the
institution. The records describing these marches to the court would show that they were manifestations
in each instance of a laudable esprit de corps, an admirable sense of organization, and an excellent unity
of purpose freely displayed by each member of the society.
In the ninth year of his reign, or 1631, King Injo ( 仁 祖 ) decided to dedicate to his deceased
father, a mere prince, the monarchal title of Wŏnjong (元宗), which, in spite of the famous doctrine of
filial piety, was going a bit too far and, in the collective judgment of our scholars, inimical to the ideals of
confucianism. Consequently, without much ado, they struck. When one considers the substance and
context of the scholars’ stand against their king, to all intents and purposes an absolute monarch, a person
who has been brought up in the mildest of modern, political climates should shudder at the disasters they
were inviting on themselves.
The Myŏngnyundang, the lecture-hall, served on such an occasion as an assembly hall in which
the scholars held their full-dress debate, passed resolutions, and organized the details incident to their
petitioning Above all, the petition had to be drafted, discussed, and copied in a proper form. Into its
composition, presumably, went the scholars’ collective literary excellence. Any decision reached at such
meetings was binding on every member of the assembly, and, although [page 83] at certain times when
the country ran wild with political factions the Sŏnggyun’gwan did share the misfortune within its walls,
deviationary action by any member of any faction was simply unthinkable. If there was any case of this
sort, the records do not show it.
Now, the march to the court; but prior to the departure of the marching force, they had the street
leading to the court cleaned by the villagers residing in the neighborhood of the S ŏnggyun’gwan. It may
not be too far from truth that the Sŏnggyun’gwan had a certain, undefined jurisdiction over the area and
the people under its wings, and when the orderly procession of the petitioning scholars left their school
for the court, it was preceded by a front-guard force composed of the same villagers. Behind the Sŏng-
gyun’gwan scholars would follow their juniors, the pupils of all the four preparatory schools of the
capital. By now the protest march was a stirring event to the entire population of the metropolis, so the
shops throughout the city closed up for the day and awaited the court’s response in suspense. When the
petition and the main body of the procession arrived in front of the main gate of the palace, the box which
contained the petition was deposited on a pre-arranged platform, the court was notified of their arrival,
and after due formalities, the petition was sent in. The petitioners then waited there for the royal response;
if the court failed to reply on the same day, they set up a tent for the headquarters group in front of the
main gate and dispersed to government offices and private homes to pass the night. In the morning, they
would come back to form the waiting ranks.
When in the year 1780 a royal mission to the court of Ch’ing brought back with them a gold
image of Buddha, of all things, the scholars appealed to the Crown in the same manner. When King
Ch’ŏlchong ( 哲 宗 ) failed to show in his ceremonial proceedings equal [page 84] marks of ancestor-
worship to the posthumously canonized king Ikchong ( 翼宗), who had died before being crowned, the
royal deviation from the teachings of the Masters invited the same reaction from the men of the
Sŏnggyun’gwan. Now what if the royal response failed to satisfy the moral conscience of the petitioners?
Such was the case with each of the three foregoing protests. Then they would elect a new group of
officers and repeat their petitions. It seems that the scholars were in no adverse case at their wit’s end nor
at the end of their fortitude. First, they could, as they did in all the three cases, refuse to take meals in the
Sŏnggyun’gwan dining-hall. This was what they called kwŏndang (捲堂). If the authorities continued to
procrastinate, the dormitories were deserted. Now, the Crown or the government would be in a desperate
position, for the form of the scholars’ protest to follow was to leave the Sŏnggyun’gwan en masse, thus
creating a situation of grave consequences. This last step, which the scholars resorted to in a number of
cases, amounted to forcing on the Crown or the government of the day the onus of proving that they did
not choose to see the highest and unique confucian institution of the country virtually disestablished.
This happened in 1611 and again in 1650 when the eminent teachers and philosophers, T’oegye
and Yulgok were in turn criticized by their rival factions and the slanderers got away with it. Then in
1667, when crown ministers disowned the responsibility for their diplomatic failures in dealing with
China, the Sŏnggyun’gwan scholars stood up to demand their dismissal, and finally left the
Sŏnggyun’gwan as they failed to achieve their end.
So here was an aspect of the life at the Sŏnggyun’gwan which would lead one to realize the
extent to which, under a confucian, monarchical system of government, at least the intellectually
enlightened part of the population could demand moral or political [page 85] satisfaction from their
rulers. What is perhaps of supreme importance was that the right to put up the kinds of protests that the
scholars at the Sŏnggyun’gwan did put up rigorously and fearlessly whenever they decided that the
country was ill, the right to subject the doings of the rulers to a popular test in the light of the moral or
philosophical principles in current force was never denied to the government-supported aspirants for
governmental career. Moreover, both sides behaved decorously, and it seems to have been the duty as
much of the government as of the scholars to see that the actual proceedings were utterly undisturbed or
in no case left to deteriorate into panics.
Another feature of the scholars’ life at the Sŏnggyun’gwan which is of some analogical interest
was its point-system. It began in the early days of the Yi dynasty and the idea was that each scholar had to
take certain number of meals or earn certain number of points before he was qualified to take the Great
examination. This should have a familiar ring to one who has lived or heard of the old collegiate life at
either of the ancient English universities, but, at any rate, there was there an ingenious system of defining
the residential requirements. On the strength of this, with the tutorial system of teaching mentioned
before, one might draw a happy analogy between the Sŏnggyun’gwan and the older European
universities.
But the Sŏnggyun’gwan did not preserve the even tenour of its ways unbroken through the
centuries, even apart from the occasional demonstrations of its students. Within three years of its building
it was destroyed by fire, and again it was burnt when the Japanese armies left Seoul in flames at the time
of their rout in the unsuccessful invasion by Hideyoshi at the end of the sixteenth century. After the war,
it was rebuilt in 1602, and it is from this building that the present buildings date. The functioning of the
school had also been interrupted earlier by another [page 86] calamity. The notorious King Yŏnsan-gun,
( 燕 山 君 ) at the end of the fifteenth century dismissed the professors and turned the place into an
entertainment hall. His successor, Chungjong, (中宗), restored it to the pursuit of learning.
So far, in so many words, the history of the Sŏnggyun’gwan has been traced from its early days
to the beginning of this century. Towards the end of the Yi dynasty, which ended in 1910, some
modifications were made in the curriculum of the institution to accomodate modern learning, but the the
crux of the matter or the study of confucian classics remained to preponderate. Then came the Japanese
occupation. Under the Japanese rule, the institution was first reorganized into Kyŏnghag-wŏn (經學院) or
the Confucian Institute, then changed its title and scope of interest more than once, until in it began to
bloom into the fully fledged modern university that the Sŏnggyun’-gwan University is today. The revival
of the ancient title of Sŏnggyun’gwan represents the ancient, confucian heritage handed down through the
centuries to the university which purports to be completely secular and modern, yet has a unique
department specializing in the confucian learning. Part of the ancient rites and ceremonies has also been
inherited by the university. The residential feature of the Old Sŏnggyun’gwan too, in part, is scheduled to
revive in the immediate future to accomodate confucian students in the two wings of the very dormitory
which in the old days housed their worthy predecessors.
If it is agreed that the highest objective of confucian scholarship is to develope human nature and
render service to society and the people, as Sonnggyun means, both the moral impact and the intellectual
contributions that the Sonnggyun’gwan University may bring to the republic and her people should, be
both great and enduring.

[page87]
APPENDIX

The following text is that of the rules govening the life of the Sŏnggyun’gwan students referred
to in the preceding paper. It has been taken from the Taehakchi, ( 大 學 誌 ) a compilation of various
documents connected with the Sŏnggyun’gwan, produced in the reign of Chongjo (late eighteenth
century). Two copies were made, one deposited in the college and one in the royal library (Kyujang-gak
奎章閣). The latter is now in the library of Seoul National University.
The Hangnyŏng (學令) given here is certainly of much older date, and is traditionally believed
to come from the first reign of the Yi dynasty.
 The English translation has been prepared by Mr Yu E. Sang (柳宜相).

[page 88]
On the first day of each month all students, properly dressed, repair to the courtyard of the
Temple (廟庭) to pay homage to Confucius by bowing four times.
Each day when the official tutor is seated in the hall of the Myŏngnyundang ( 明 倫 堂 ) the
confucian students request (permission) to conduct ceremonial greetings. At the first drum-beat they file
into the court, and bow before the tutor. Then they proceed to their respective dormitory rooms and enter,
having bowed to each other.
The students then ask of the tutor to be allowed to hold their daily recitation. One student each
from the upper and lower sections of the dormitory ( 上下齋) undertakes to explain what he studied. The
successful student gets his mark added to an annual total and also to his score for the recitative part (式年
講 書 ) of the state examinations. The student who fails suffers punishment by being whipped on the
calves.
With the second beating on the drum, each student brings his book to his teacher, explains
difficult points, clarifies questions, and then submits to new instruction. Care is taken not to learn much
but accurately.
Anyone dozing over his book or failing to set his mind to instruction is punished.
In reading, the student is expected first to understand [page 89] meaning and grammar, then
obtain mastery in all aspects and varieties. Idle tinkering with passages or rigid adherence to textual
meaning is to be avoided.
The Four Books (四書) and the Five Canons (五經) are for constant reading, but avoid Lao-tzu,
Chuang-tzu, buddhist writings and the hundred schools. Violators are punished.
Writing exercises are done each month: during the first ten days, dissenting criticisms or essays;
during the middle ten days, writing in verse and other styles (賦, 表, 頌, 銘, 箴); during the last ten days,
government plans or descriptive writing. The style should be terse and austere, apt ana accurate; suffice it
to carry the point. Do not indulge in being wild, eccentric or bizarre. Alteration of accepted style or
advocating flippant writing is cause for expulsion. A student careless in his handwriting is also subject to
punishment.
In testing students’ recitations, if their punctutation is proper, their discussion clear, their
knowledge of the principles and purposes of the book in hand so comprehensive and versatile that they
can thoroughly understand other books as well with the fullest facility, they are rated as outstanding.
If the student, though falling short of the fullest facility, properly punctuates his passages, is
clear in his discussion and thoroughly understands the book in hand, he is rated as passed.
Although he may fail in thorough understanding, if his interpretation is clear enough so as to be
able to piece together passages and grasp the whole chapter, he is rated as summarily passed.
If his punctuation is clear and his interpretation tolerable, he is rated as barely passed, although
he grasps the chapter in outline and his discussion leaves [page 90] room for improvement. Lower ratings
call for punishment.
If any student fails to speak in praise of the sages or indulges in highflown talk or heretical views
in order to criticize past events and to detract government policies; or if he discusses plans for bribery,
lapses into talk of wine and women, or seeks appointment by siding with the influential, he shall be
punished.
Any student guilty of violating human obligations (prince and minister, father and son, husband
and wife, brothers, or friends), of faulty deportment, or of damaging his body or his reputation, will be
denounced, with drum beats, by the other students. Extreme cases may be reported to the Ministry (of
Rites) (禮曹) and barred from academic circles for life.
Grounds for expulsion are: being conceited over one’s talent; being arrogant by presuming upon
one’s connections; being haughty because of wealth; insubordi-nation of junior to senior, or subordinate
to superior; competing in luxury and dressing differently from the common fashion; attempting to curry
favour by artful words and insinuating countenance. If he reforms by serious application he is forgiven.
Those students who go out frequently in groups at state expense, who absent themselves from
class, who neglect writing exercises, who do not love their studies, who ride horseback in traveleing, and
who violate curfew are punished.
Each month, on the 8th and the 23rd, the students are authorised to take leave of absence and
wash their clothes. On that day they should review. Archery and gambling, hunting and fishing ， and
other games are not allowed. Violators are punished.
When a student happens upon his teacher in the [page 91] street he should present himself and
salute him with the hands folded. Standing meanwhile on the left side of the street, he will wait for the
teacher to ride by. If any student, reluctant to greet his teacher, should hide himself or turn away, he will
be punished.
 Each dawn, all students rise at the first beat of the drum; at the second drum beat they dress
properly, sit upright and read their book; at the third drum beat they file into the dining hall, sit in two
rows, east and west, facing each other. After the meal they file out. Punishment is administered to any one
falling out of line or making a clamour.
Each year, one or two students whose deportment is outstanding, whose achievement and talent
excel others, and who have mastered routine duties are selected through recommendation by all the
students. These are reported to the official tutor and submitted to the Ministry (of Rites) for appointment.
The Han-San-Wei-l
(凾 三 爲 一 )
(Three Religions are One)
Principle in Far Eastern Societies

by David Chung

[page 95]
The Ham-Sam-Wei-l(凾三爲一) (Three Religions are One) Principle in Far Eastern Societies

The “national religion” of Korea seems to have puzzled not a little the early Western visitors to
the land who tried to find some counterpart to the organized religions of the West in this peninsula.
Opinions differed:

“from those who think that Koreans have no religion, to those who would say... that they are
very religious. If you were to ask the average non-Christian Korean about his religion, he would say ‘no
religion’’’1).
“He (a Korean) personally takes his own education from Confucius; he sends his wife to Buddha
to pray for off spring; and in the ills of life he willingly pays toll to Shamanist ‘Mootang’ (sorceress)”2).
“As a general thing, we may say that the all-round Korean will be a Confucianist when in
society, a Buddhist when he philosophises, and a spirit worshipper when he is in trouble”3).
“Korea’s is a strange religion, a mixing of ancestor worship with Buddhism, Taoism, spirit cults,
divination, magic, geomancy, astrology, and fetishism. Dragons play a part, devils or natural gods are
abundant; ‘tokabi’(elfs, imps, goblins) are legion”4).

A missionary even tried to give this “religion” a name: Sin’gyo or the “Doctrine of the Gods”5).
Such syncretic phenomena seem to have left very strong impressions on visitors who observed this
“religion without a name” in action, as is evidenced in the quantity of literature they produced6).

1) Rhodes, Harry A. (ed.)：History of the Korea Mission. Presbyterian Church USA 1884-1934. Seoul. 1934. p. 47.
2) Jones, G.H.: “The Spirit Worship of the Koreans”, Korea Branch of the Royal Asiatic Socitey Transactions, vol.
II, Part II, 1901. p.39.
3) Hulbert, H.B.: The Passing of Korea, New York, 1905. p. 403
4) Gale, J.S.: Korea in Transition. New York, 1909. p.70.
5) Underwood, H.G.: The Religions of Eastern Asia. New York. 1910. p94.
6) cf. Underwood, H.H.: “A Partial Bibliography of Occidental Literature on Korea from Early Times to 1939”.
TKBRAS vol. XXIV. Seoul, 1935.

[page 96]
In Korean funerals, for instance, to single out a typical case among the host of bizarre practices,
it is confucianism that dresses the mourners with sack-cloth, while the buddhist monks chant their sutras
for those departed to the Western Paradise, a buddhist heavenly kingdom. It is a shaman who exorcises
the evil spirits, which may annoy or harm the departed on his journey, while taoistic geomancers engage
thenselves in supervising the digging of the grave on the site which they believe to be the most profitable
location.
Each religion plays different notes here, but in a strange harmony. Confucianism provides the
religious etiquette; Mahayana Buddhism the ritual and the vision of future life. Taoism ensures the safe
journey of the deceased to the spirit world, while keeping an eye on the expected prosperity of the
bereaved conformists to the rites. A shaman is needed to deal with the several souls of the dead directly.
 It is no wonder, therefore, that Western observers should be confused when confronted with a
tapestry of such extremely complicated designs and colours. They did not know what to make of it.
To be sure, there were independent confucian buddhist and taoist religious organizations
functioning separately in society. Shamanists did not incorporate themselves into any organization, but,
none the less, shamanism was a religious institution.
Furthermore, it would be entirely erroneous if one should suppose that the attitude of one
religion to another was basically indifferent. Especially after Confucianism ascended to the position of a
state religion in the early years of the Yi Dynasty, it never hesitated to persecute other faiths as
“superstitions, “abominable deeds embroiled with heretic sacrifices”, or “evil causing heresies”.
This confucian persecution was only checked by [page 97] the fact that Confucianism itself was
the exclusive religion of the yangban (兩班) class. Women as well as well as commoners were excluded
from the rituals. On the other hand the suppressed religions were not entirely silent in their protest. It is
not surprising to find that the revolts of Hong Kyŏngnae ( 洪景來 1811), the Paek kŏndang (白巾黨) of
Chinju (1863) and the Tong hakdang (東學黨) (1894) were all coloured with taoist and buddhist beliefs
though basically they were movements of the oppressed people against the ruling class.
Hong Kyŏngnae, the leader of the revolt named after him, had assumed the role of a taoist
mystical general who was believed to have possessed supernatural power. Some five years after his death
in the abortive rebellion, some of his followers in the southern provinces still believed him alive and they
organized another series of unsuccessful revolts on the strength of this belief. The Tonghak revolt in later
years definitely took the course of a religious war against the rulling class. Ch’ŏndogyo (天道敎) and the
host of similar indigenous religious sects in this group are off shoots of this rebellion.
The most outstanding feature in all this complexity is that an ideal type Korean could always
give his allegiance to all of these religions at the same time. This situation made a student in Upsala
exclaim: “Die Religion Koreas ist synkretistisch”7).
It is syncretic; but in what sense? What is the structure of this version of syncretism? Looking at its
history, the syncretic attitude of the people has a long standing. Ch’oe Chiwŏn (崔致遠), the great scholar
of 9th century Silla, wrote of the “national religion of his age, which “embraces three religions
(Confucianism, Buddhism and Taoism), grafting them to its own body and nourishing the divergent
understandings therefrom

7) Beyerhaus, Peter: Die Selbstandigkeit der Junger Kirchen als Missionarisches Problem. Barmen, 1956. S. 216

[page 98]
in harmony...8). This clearly shows that already in his century the Han-San-Wei-I ( 凾三爲一) of Chinese
origin was rooted deeply in the Korean soil.
The Tan’gun legend itself, a mythological account of the foundation of the nation by Tan’gun
( 擅 君 ), a descendant of the heavenly deity Hananim or Hanin has a syncretic setting. The Koryŏ
Dynasty’s 13th century versions of the legend recorded in Samguk Yusa (三國遺事) and Chewang Un’gi
(帝王韻記) are thickly coloured with taoist and buddhist mythology and terminology.
If one is inclined to accept the hypothesis of Kim Che wŏn9) in the face of the much disputed
problem of the origin of the Tan’gun legend, one will find the Tan’gun mythology set already in a
syncretic framework with strong taoist influences when it was recorded on the stone slabs of the Wu
Liang Tz’u of the Chinese Han Dynasty.
If Dr. Kim is right the Han dynasty stone slab version could be dated safely around the second
century A.D. The northern part of the peninsula was under the occuption of Han previous to that date.
If one is inclined to apply the time depth measurement of the Kulturkreisemethode10) prepared
by Wilhelm Schmidt, the Austrian anthropologist, on this Korean legend, he will find the origin of the
syncretic attitude in the story could be pushed further back. The legend depicts a marriage between Han
Ung, the son of the primitive monotheistic deity Hanin or Hananim
8) Silla Pon’gi IV, Sam guk Sagi vol. 4.
9) Kim, Che-won: “Han Dynasty Mythology and the Korean Legend of Tan, gun”, Archives of tie Chinese Art
Society of America. III 1948-49. pp.43-48.
10) cf. Schmidt, W.: Handbuch der Vergleichenden Religionsgeschichite. Munster. 1930. XIV Kapitel. SS. 213-243;
Schmidt, W.: Ursprung der Gottesidee. Bd. I. Munster. 1926, SS. 752-766.

[page 99]
and the bear woman Kŏm, a deity widely worshipped by the North Asiatic tribes of Manchuria and
Siberia11). If this marriage means the hybridization of two societies of different cultural and religious
background (one patriarchal and nomadic with a monotheistic male deity, the other matrilineal and
agricultural with a totemic female deity) we may be able to trace the lost memories of the people into the
realm of prehistory. Even in that stage, free from taoist or buddhist influences, it is not difficult for us to
infer that the legend was also a syncretic form: the marriage of the two deities.
Despite the fact that these ideas, individually, are but hypotheses, one thing is clear. The
religious attitude of the people has been syncretic for a long long time.
In what sense, in what character and structure? Kraemer introduced this pre-Christian oriental
syncretism as a fitting example of his own thesis12). He supposed that it was the relativism of the oriental
religions based upon an “inherent natural monism” that gave rise to such a strange phenomenon. He
observed:
“The religious allegiance of the average (Chinese) is not related to one of the three religions. He
does not belong to a confession or creed He participates, unconcerned as to any apparent lack of
consistency, alternately in Buddhist, Taoist or Confucian rites. He is by nature a religious pragmatist.
Religiously speaking we find him prenant son bien ou il le trouve... We are repeatedly told especially of
the Chinese and Japanese that they have a deep-rooted indifference

11) Hallowell, A.I.: Bear Ceremonialism in the Northern Hemisphere. Philadelphia. 1926.
Korean kŏm (bear) may have been derived etymologically from the common linguistic stock from which the Ainu
kamui (bear-god) or Japanese kami (god) also originated.
12) Kraemer, Hendrik: The Christian Message in a Non-Christian World. New York. Reprint. 1947. p. 156 and
passim.

[page 100]
towards dogma and doctrinal differences”13).
But, on a closer view, Kraemer’s interpretation is misleading on several accounts. Firstly, the
“average” far easterners, including Koreans, are not “relativists”. They do not philosophize in terms of the
“Absolute”, of course, but, they believe that they know the absolute norm with which they must conform.
They did not develop doctrines of revelation as such, but they have indeed elevated the norms to absolute
height attributing them to the will of a heavenly being. It was the voice of Heaven that spoke to them
through the wise men whom they canonized as their saints. They were by no means progress-minded
relativists. On the contrary, they were conservative absolutists oriented in archaism.
Secondly, they were not pragmatists, religiously speaking. Their devotion and piety did not
allow impartiality in their religious duties. The “prenant son bien ou il le trouve” attitude is
psychologically contradictory even to sincere idolators. If it were not, why was Christianity, for instance,
not accepted in those countries without undergoing tragic persecutions? It was not xenophobia alone that
caused the persecution. They were first of all religious persecutions.
De Groot provides us with more acceptable explanation on the matter. According to him,
“in reality the three religions are the branches of a common stem which existed from the most
ancient time. This stem is the religion of ‘Universismus’...... Universism, as I will call it from now on, is
the one religion of China in which the three religions only partake as its integrated parts14)”
13) op. cit. pp. 201-2.
14) De Groot, JJ-M.: Universismus, Die Grundlage der Religion und Ethik, Staatswesens und der Wissenschaften
Chinas. Berlin. 1918 S. 2.

[page 101]
“The Chinese religious system is a universalistic animism”15). In short, the Han-San-Wei-I is a
coherent system even though it looks on superficial observation like a chaotic conglomeration of
heterogeneous and bizarre elements. This interpretation we support, in view of the following historical
facts.
Regardless of their very much exaggerated doctrinal differences Confucianism and Taoism
maintained a close propinquity throughout Chinese history. In spite of their antithetic ontological theories
of the universe and ethical attitudes, and in spite of their roots in different social strata, they were
inseparably united by the fact that they shared the same animistic ideologies as well as identical religious
vocabularies.
It is very interesting to note that the Chung Yung (中庸), a book hitherto believed to be one of
the most important documents of Confucianism has been thoroughly analysed recently by competent
scholars and considered rather to be a book of taoist origin.16)
Buddhism was a religion of foreign origin to China, but it was accepted into Chinese society
having been acculturated successfully through various stages of syncretism. Today the term Chinese
Buddhism has become the denotation of a branch of Buddhism that is peculiarly Chinese.
To be more specific, Mahayana Buddhism in China came to occupy an integral part in the
religious life of the people through syncretistic processes. And we believe that a study of the processes of
this integration will bring us one step further towards understanding the hidden structure of the Han-San-
Wei-I.
When Buddhism was introduced into China it was

15) op. cit. S. 12.

16) Chang, Carsun: The Development of Neo-Confucian Thought. New York 1958.p.48.

[page 102]
accepted on the merits of its equivalence to Taoism. This Chinese version of Buddhism as accepted in the
later Han Dynasty was a religion of Taoist Shen-Hsien-Fang-Shu (Occultism and Magic).
There are many opinions as to the date of the introduction of Buddhism into China. Some even
maintain that Confucius himself knew of Buddha, in a book popularly attributed to Lieh-tzu one finds a
high official asking Confucius:
“Who is the saint? Fu-tzu (Confucius) solemnized his expression and kept reverent silence a
while and then spoke: Ch’iu (Confucius), that is, I heard that there is in the West a saint who does not
rule, but the world is not rebellious. He does not inculcate but the people believe in him. He does not
propagate yet the people gladly follow him”17)
However, conclusive evidence shows that the said document is the latter day fabrication of a
confucian-buddhist in either the Wei or the Chin dynasty18).
Other early accounts of the “mysterious” introduction of Buddhism are also bewildering. The relative
documents could be graded according to their degree of exaggeration19). But, they all seem to agree that
Buddha revealed himself (circa. 63 A.D.) to the Emperor Ming of the Han Dynasty in a dream with a
golden statue in luminous manifestations varying in size according to the various accounts. This Chinese
Buddha could fly over the Emperor’s court freely as though he embodied in himself all the magical power
that the taoists of the age could hanker after.

17) Hung Ming Chu, Epilogue; Kuang Hung Ming Chu vol. I.
18) cf. Tang, YungT’ung: History of Buddhism in the Han, Wei, Liang, Chin, and Nan-Pei Dynasties of China 湯用
形: 漢魏兩晋南北朝佛敎史 vol. 1. 2nd ed. Peking, 1955. pp.4-5.
19) In chapt. 20, Li Hui Lun, 理惑論 Mo-tzu 牟子 graded his contemporary documents relatively according to the
degree of exaggeration.

[page 103]
Documentary evidence shows that most of these accounts are later additions by over-zealous
Buddhists. But that is the very point we are interested in. Buddha was deliberately made in to a taoistic
deity. It is not surprising at all, under such circumstances, that the myth of Lao-tzu’s visit to India, that is,
Hua-Hu-Ching, should appear and make strong appeal to the age.
By 166 A.D. Hsiang K’ai reported to his Emperor Huan that:
“Some people say that Lao-tzu went to the the barbarian country and became Buddha. In Tai
Ping Ching it was only mentioned that Lao-tzu went to the West and stayed there for eighty years and
lived through the Yin and Chu Dynasties. But another Taoist-Buddhistic document, Hua Hu Ching
amplified it and declared: “Lao-tzu was made an official of the Government during the reign of Yu
Wang. But again with Yin Hsi he went to the Western country and became Buddha. He gave the king of
the barbarian country Hua Hu Ching which consists of 640, 000 words. After he came back to China he
wrote the Tai Ping Ching20)”.
The first royal convert to Buddhism was Prince Ying of Ch’u,who was definitely a syncretist.
The Emperor Ming himself testified that “Prince Ch’u believes in the mysteries of the Emperor Huang-ti
and Lao-tzu and worships Buddha and goes into mystical union with gods”21). Lao-tzu and Buddha may
have even shared an altar together in the reign of the Emperor Huan. According to one record the
Emperor Huan worshipped Lao-tzu at a temple called Yueh-lung-ko or Leaping Dragon Hall in 166 A.D.
The name of the temple, Leaping Dragon Hall, may have come from a taoist source. It was reported to
have been renamed previous to the

20) Hou Han Shu 72, Biography of Ch’u Wang Ying

21) Hou Han Shu 72, Biography of Ch’u Wang Ying

[page 104]
emperor’s worship with a more buddhist one: Temple of Admiration for Nothingness or Ch’ung hsu-
su22).
Such a taoist-buddhist syncretism seems to have been approved not only by the prince and the
emperor, but by the average devout buddhist of that early age. The “Biographies of Famous Monks” of
Hui Kiao of the Liang Dynasty made An Shih-kao (Lokottamer), the missionary from Parthia, and the
translator of the buddhist texts, a highly competent taoist occultist. The famous monks of the Wu
Dynasty, K’ang Seng-hui and Wei Chih-nan, and the Wei dynasty’s Dharmakala were among those who
were pictured as accomplished taoist magicians. The composite picture of Buddha himself found in the
biographical literatures of the Han and Three Kingdom periods is definitely that of a da hsien or “Great
Taoist Immortal” ( 大 仙 ) from India. This is how “equivalence” has taken its place in the syncretic
phenomena of the Chinese scene.
In the process of the translation of buddhist literature into Chinese, we find one clearly syncretic
phenomenon gradually emerging on the scene. Anyone who is familiar with the taoist literature and
Chinese buddhist texts of the early period will be able to indicate without serious difficulty how many
identical words are used on both sides with different meanings. A careful comparative study on this
extremely interesting problem is beyond the scope of the present paper. Nevertheless, we shall be able to
pick up a few fundamental common words which had distinctly different semantic features from the view
of the respective religions. One is tao. The second is wu.
Tao (道) in the early Buddhist texts was the translation of bodhi. A keen observer will immediately
see the fundamental disagreement between the two terms
22) cf. Tokiwa, Daijo: The Relationship of Buddhism to Confucianism and Taoism in China 常盤大定 ： 支那に於
け る佛敎と 儒敎道敎, PP. 512-3.

[page 105]
which were paronomously joined. Taoist tao is the principle of inaction wu-wei (無爲), or naturalness tzu-
ran (自然) while bodhi is an inspiration and goal of aspiration. One may “return” to tao while he has to
“strive forward” to bodhi. It was Hsien Juang who gave new translations. He translated marga as tao and
bodhi as chueh (覺).
Wu in the early buddhist texts was the translation of nirvana. The latter is an absolute negation
while the former is the principle of Ursein (ultimate being).
Under such linguistic limitations and the ambiguity involved in symbolic communications,
Taoism and Buddhism were propitiated in their early contacts, and were made to be religions of the same
principle. A syncretic writer even wrote:

“The Tao of Yin and Yang created with their harmony everything in the world. Tao, being born
in the East, became a tree (Lao-tzu’s family name is Li, an apricot tree) of Yang. Fu (Buddha), being born
in the West, became Golden Yin. Tao is the father, Fu is the mother. Tao is heaven, Fu is the earth. Tao
leads one to live peacefully, while Fu leads one to die peacefully. Tao’s causality and Fu’s corollary are
like Yin and Yang and therefore could not be separated”23).

The benefit of this syncretism was mutual. Buddhism found a secure place in society through
this process, while Taoism equipped itself with the newly introduced doctrinal, ritual and institutional
refinements from the West. As its position in society became more and more secure Buddhism expanded
itself into a whole gamut of Buddhism, eliminating as far as possible its previously assumed role as a
concilliatory partner in syncretism.

23) 老子序:陰陽之道. 化成萬物. 道生於東爲木陽也. 佛生於西爲 金女也. 道父佛母道 天佛地. 道生佛死. 道因

佛緣並一陰ᅳ陽. 不相離也.

[page 106]
But, the effort of purifying Buddhism from its syncretic condition was the business of experts or
specialists whose work effected only their faithful followers. The religio publica24) of China remained
virtually unchanged regardless of the unceasing efforts of the leaders of both camps, who tried to clarify
their respective positions.
We can repeat the same story with the syncretism between Confucianism and Buddhism.
However, in this case the mutual influence between them following the initial translation period is more
interesting.
It is only natural that from the buddhist camp the spirit of fraternity should have appeared Its
early representative is Sun Ch’o who identified the buddhist seven tao-jen with the confucian Seven Wise
Men in the Bamboo Forest in his conciliatory Tao Hsin Lun. In his other thesis, Yu Hsien Lun, he
solemnized the unity of the two religions saying:

“Confucius of Chu is Buddha. And Buddha himself is Confucius of Chu. For these two (names)
are nothing but the foreign and native names of one person. Confucius saves (humanity) from the ultimate
calami¬ties, while Buddha enlightens and teaches the ultimate causes. They are the beginning and the
end. Their fundamental truth is not inconsistent Therefore, a radical inquirer may find them to be
two, but a man of comprehensive understanding finds them not to be two”25)
 On the other hand, there were not a few in the confucian camp proper who were ready to
embrace the conciliatory spirit, though they did not bother to mention explicitly their indebtedness to the
alien doctrines. What they tried to do was to show the confucian contextual equivalences with Buddhism

24) cf. Otto Rudolf: Vishinu Narayana. Passim.

25) Yu Hsien Lun, Hung Ming Chi III. 喻賢論 ： 弘明集三. 周孔 即佛佛即周 孔……蓋外內之名耳……周孔救
極弊. 佛敎明其本. 其爲首尾其致不殊……故 逆尋者毎見其二. 順通者無往不ᅳ.

[page 107]
On the model of Buddhist dogma on emotions and desires as defilement (a strong contradiction
of traditional Confucianism), Li Ao for instance, maintained that the essence of human nature is
tranquillity25) and evil comes from the disturbance of emotions. Of course, Li Ao’s terminology as well
as his concept has its origin in the traditional Confuciam text. But, the more important thing is that such
expressions and ideas were newly taken from hitherto neglected contexts and revised in meaning under
the new stimulus of Buddhism.
This kind of contextual equation becomes clearer with the Sung dynasty Neo-Confucianists.
They were supposedly anti-buddhists. But, it is not too much of an exaggeration to say that “if there had
been no Buddhism there could have been no Sung philosophy, i.e. Neo-Confucianism (無佛學即無宋
學)26).
The founders of the Sung philosophy which was destined to rule the minds of intellectuals
during the following six centuries, until the end of the Ch’ing dynasty, established a school mainly with
their counterproposals to Buddhism that provided Neo-Confucianism with the doctrinal framework which
the Sung philosophers tried to fill with materials drawn from ancient sources as well as some fresh
interpretations of their own. Their interpretation is what Matteo Ricci and Leibniz, the early western
sinologues, were against, because they believed it to be a serious materialistic deviation from pure
Confucianism under the influence of Buddhism27).
In spite of the anti-buddhist attitude of the

26) Chou, Yu Tung: Chu Hsi. 周豫同朱熹 Shanghai, p.5.

27) cf. Bernard-Maitre, Henri: Sagesse Chinoise et Philosophic Chretienne. Paris, 1935; Bettray, I; Die
Akkommodationsmethode des P. Matteo Ricct S.I. in China. Rom. 1955; Chung, David: “The Problem of Analogy
Between Christianity and Confucianism”. Koreana Quarterly,vol I, No.2. 1959. pp.115-130.

[page 108]
philosophers of the school, the doctrine of t’ai-chi ( 太 極 ), the Supreme Ultimate, of Chou Tun-i (the
founder of the southern branch of the school) and the doctrine of t’ai-hua (太和), the Great Harmony, of
Chang Tsai (the founder of the northern branch) came into being by positing confucian equivalents to the
idea of emptiness in Buddhism.
Chou Tun-i’s Tung Shu, especially, clearly reflects traces of the influence of Ch’an Buddhism in
its ideas as well as its vocabulary. Though Chang Tsai’s Cheng Meng contains radical criticisms of
Buddhism, it is also full of counter-proposals to buddhist doctrines which make the book’s real contents a
confucianist reflection on buddhistic teachings. His Tae Hua or Great Harmony, which nourishes the
principles of action and inaction as well as their reciprocal harmony seems to have been treated as the
equivalent of the buddhist One Mind. This includes the two aspects, Sui Yen ( 隨 綠 ) (result from
conditioning causes) and Pu Mieh (不滅) (anirodha). His Great Void ( 虚) and Temperamental Energy
(氣質之性) seem to reflect equally the relationship of the bhutatathata (眞如) and alaya-vijnana (阿賴耶
識) of Buddhism.
It is rather amusing to see that that vehement critic of Buddhism, Chu Hsi, attacked Buddhism
for several reasons, but especially for the resemblances to Confucianism and Taoism that Buddhism has
in its doctrines. He enumerated the resemblances and insisted that they were due to borrowing and
stealing by Buddhism from wisdom of Chinese origin28).
With an effort, of course, they could bring out some distinctive features of Confucianism in
contrast to the contextual equivalences or counter-parts in Buddhism. But, what they actually
accomplished in the public mind was not the idea of Confucianism as an absolute religion, but rather the
relative validation of

28) Tokiwa, D.: op. cit. pp. 374-376.

[page 109]
Buddhism in the light of the traditional truth in China. The Han-San-Wei-I as a consensus gradually
crystallized itself and took its permanent place in the religous life of the people.
To sum up, what strongly impresses us in the whole complicated process which took place in the
capillary system of society is:

On the part of the giver the affecting religion had:

1) An effective challenge suitable to stimulate an eager native response (pre-condition).
2) An ability for voluntary or involuntary compromise with the environment to produce the
effective-ness of the challenge (selectivity in action).
On the part of the receiver the affected society had:
1) A keen receptivity to the particular challenge (pre-condition).
2) An ability for active participation with its own resources to exploit the maximum benefit
from the alien stimulus by acclimatizing or acculturating (selectivity in action).

The whole thing looks as if it were a partial absorption or assimilation between the meeting
religions, with the price of metamorphosis paid to some extent by both sides. With the price paid
Buddhism was accepted by the Chinese public as an integral part of their national religion. This is the
general picture of the oriental Han-San-Wei-I.
This same process can be well illustrated again with the coming of Christianity, a religion of an
absolute truth, with well systematized doctrines and militant organization. It is a matter for serious
discussion whether Christianity contains any animistic aspects in its spiritual hierarchy or not.
Nevertheless, actually a crude understanding of the concept of the Trinity, hosts of heaven, devils, souls,
and other spiritual beings [page 110] in Christian teachings may have helped to impress this new religion
on the public in animistic Far Eastern societies as a kind of western variation of their own belief.
Whatever the case may have been Christianity easily became involved with syncretism in Far Eastern
societies. We have three examples, one in each of three countries: China, Japan ana Korea.
On the grand scale, we have an important example in the the Taiping Rebellion 1851-1864 of
China. In this shocking incident there were, of course, many factors involved: political, economic and
religious. It was first of all the Han people’s movement of revolt against the ruling Manchus. Recent
communist press reports from Peking with some justification portrayed the movement as the first
organized movement of the Chinese proletariat against the ruling class.29) But the battle was fought in
the name of Christianity in a “strange compound of Christianity and Chinese beliefs and practices”.30)
The victorious army was led to occupy Nanking under Christian banners. Hung Hsiu-chuan, the
leader who fanatically believed himself to be the brother of Jesus, ruled his “Heavenly Kingdom of Great
Peace” as a heavenly king with a strongly legalistic administration based on the Holy Bible.
The special feature that attracts us in this movement is the understanding of Christianity by the
rebels. The Taipings “declared that their doctrine was not new but that the ancient classics had taught it in
part and later generations had departed from it”31) This claim, we find, is in perfect coincidence with
what the Riccian
29) Lo, Erh Kang: Pictorial History of Taiping Tien Kuo 羅尔綱 ： 太平天國 裹史 Nanking, 1956; Lo: Collection
and Notes on the Historical Documents of the Taiping (太平天國史科考釋集) Peking 1956.
30) Latourette, K.S.: The Chinese, Their History and Culture. New York. 3rd Rev. ed., 1947. p. 356.
31) Op. cit. p. 290

[page 111]
Jesuit missionaries had tried to announce in the seven-teenth century China32).
It may be said that the Taiping religion “still was not Christianity”33). But we have strong
reasons to infer with Latourette that

“had it had the immediate contact through missionaries with Christian communities in other
lands, it is possible that in time, it might have developed into a movement which ， while preserving
many peculiarly Chinese features, would caught the meaning of Jesus and have become a church which
would have deserved both the adjectives Chinese and Christian. As it was, it is quite clear that even the
leaders had never really understood the Christian message”34).

Let us turn to Japan. As Buddhism was once the stimulus in China that made Taoism and
Confucianism plunge into their own organized systematic actions, Jesuit Catholicism gave the same
impetus to awaken Shintoism and to make it leap into the action of proclaiming its own independence
over against its long-time partner Ryobu Shinto-Buddhism. The ingenuity of Neo-Shintoist theologians
such as Hirata Atsutane and Ota Nishiki successfully accommodated the Riccian christian theology into
their own Shinto doctrinal system.
Hirata’s theological contribution could be summarized into two points.35) Firstly, he elevated
the three creator deities in the Shinto mythology (Master-of-the-August-Producing-Deity
Amenominakanushinokami, High-August-Producing-Wondrous-Deity Takamimusubinokami, Divine-

32) Chung, D.； op. cit. pp. 115-123.

33) Broadman, E.P.: Christian Influence upon the Ideology of the Taiping Rebellion 1851-1864 (a doctoral
dissertation submitted to University of Wisconsin). Madison, 1952. p. 114#
34) Latourette: op. cit. pp. 285-6.
35) Muraoka: History of Shintoism (村岡典嗣 ： 神道史) Tokyo, 1956.

[page 112]
Producing-Wondrous-Deity Kamumimusabinokami) and made them transcendental deities of a Judeo-
Christian type.
He elaborated the first sentence of the Kojiki: “The names of the deities that came into being in
the Plain of High Heaven when Heaven and Earth began......” with a new expression apparently under the
influence of the Book of Genesis as follows: “At first before Heaven and Earth were born there were
deities in the Plain of High Heaven. The names of these deities were......”36).
He also changed the spirit-producing Izanagi, male, and Izanami, female, deities into the
mankind-producing Adamu (阿陀牟 Adam) and Enba (延波 Eva)respectively37).
Secondly, Hirata enlarged considerably the domain of the Master-of-the-Great-Land-Deity
Ohokuninushinokami, the deity of the Land of Dead, into a comprehensive spiritual world including
heaven and hell, so that separate accommodation could be provided for the departed according to their
deeds on earth.
He even went further. He wrote a book of two volumes entitled Hon-Kyo-Guai-Hen which may
be rendered in a free translation: Significant Doctrines Originated Outside Shinto. This remarkable book
opens with two hymns quoted without an acknowledgement from the eight “Hymns with Musical
Accompaniment” by the Jesuit missionary to China, Matteo Ricci, published in his Ten Paradoxes.
 In fact, there was no harm done if they were used, for the purpose of exalting Shintoism, because
no Christian proper names were used in them. The pious words used in the hymns were by no means a
monopoly of Christianity. Christianity was the borrower, in the first place, of these religio-poetic terms
from oriental literary expression.

36) Hirata, A.: Ko Shi Sei Bun, I.

37) Hirata: Op. cit. I.X.

[page 113]
He devoted a good portion of his first volume to a Shinto adaptation of Ricci’s T’ien-Chu-Shi-I
(天主實義) or The True Doctrine of the Lord of Heaven. The original dialogue between the Chinese and
Western literati became a conversation between a confucian and Hirata himself. Hirata had put himself
into the position which was originally taken by the Jesuit Ricci. It is a remarkable feat. With only slight
alteration Ricci’s words are placed in a Shinto theologian’s mouth without scruple or hesitation.
One finds among the alterations a passage which reads:

“Blessed are those who have endured persecution for their uprightness, for the Kingdom of
Heaven is already theirs and they will never die. For this is the mystery of Shinto which is beyond man’s
wisdom”.38)

The next large section of the book is dovoted to a literary adaptation of Matteo Ricci’s Ten
Paradoxes. Ricci’s ten conversations in the book with ten Chinese literati are made into a very long
conversation between Hirata himself and a confucian.
The entire second volume is a somewhat abridged copy of another Jesuit missionary Diego
Pantoja’s Ch’i K’o seven books. In contrast to the first volume, in which Ricci’s words were translated
into Japanese, the abridgement in this second volume was made entirely in straight classical Chinese,
quoting the original directly. Hirata may have thought that there was virtually no need to alter the ethico-
religious life, which the christian writer advocated, in order to transplant it into the new Shinto soil.
We do not believe, of course, that this was an

38) Hirato Atzutane’s Complete Works. Vol. 2., p. 13.

[page 114]
exemplary case of straightforward syncretism between Christianity and Shintoism. Yet, it seems to
indicate an undeniable fact that a favourable condition for friendly contact between the two religions did
exist in Japan that time.
In view of this fact, had missionary methods been effective enough it would not have been
impossible for Christianity to gain a stronger foothold in Japan. It would have been more effective if the
Jesuit missionaries had been a little more willing to accommodate native responses such as were shown in
the Hirata theology within the Christian fold at that historical juncture.
There was an incident to prevent this. A disastrous thing had happened to Francis Xavier, the
father of the Jesuit Mission in the Orient, who preached about “Dainichi” upon arrival in the Japanese
islands in 1549，misunderstanding it as an appropriate Japanese equivalent to God in the Christian sense.
He had been misinformed by one Yajiro or Nanjiro, a Japanese of little education and an escapee to India,
where they had met.39)
Sometime later Xavier discovered the horrifying fact that the “Dainichi” or Great Sun was but a
syncretistic Buddhist deity whose name also signified something very vulgar to the Japanese who were
the audience of his preaching.40)
Alarmed and dismayed the Jesuits in Japan hastily, perhaps a little too hastily, stopped the use of
translated words and initiated the work of transliteration from
39) cf. Schurhammer, Georg: Das kirchliche Sprachproblem in der Japanischen Jesuitmission des 16 u. 17
Jahrhunderts. Tokyo, 1928, SS. 25-33.
40) The words of Schurhammer were paraphrased and translated by Bernard-Maitre in his Sagesse Chinoise et
Philosophie Chretienne, p. 96. It reads: “II crût pouvoir employer le terme “Dainichi” pour désigner Dieu en
japonais... Ce terme était absolument déplacé puisqu’entre divers sens, il signifiait la materia prima, le grand soleil
ou la divinité du grand soleil... même les organes sexuels de genre humain. Des... que des gens scandalisés l’en
eurent averti, il se remit à parcourir les divers endroits ou il avait prêché en disant: Ne priez pas Dainichi.”

[page 115]
Portuguese or Latin terms and produced the bizarre series of the remarkable Kirishitan terminology.
Accordingly, Dainichi was substituted by Deusu which was a transliterated name from Portuguese Dios
or Latin Deus.41)
And the new vocabularies thus made were presumably inflective when used for the purpose of
evangelism unless they were supplemented by explanations. When the supplementary explanation was
lacking or forgotten we suspect that the word Deusu may have actually meant almost nothing to the
people. Likewise, we suspect that most of the transliterated words were ineffective to convey Christian
ideas to the native. It must have been a difficult experience for the missionaries who were forced to teach
these entirely new words to the Japanese in order to convert them.42) Some of the remnants of these
Japanese Jesuit Catholics who had been pushed underground during the long three-century persecution
(1587-1873) and who had yet preserved some traces of Catholic rituals not knowing what they were,
provide us with a painful illustration of the syncretic process that actually took place.
Syncretic elements soon crept in among them from the moment when the influence of the
missionaries

41) Transliteration had been employed for a long time by the translators of Buddhist texts into Chinese. Therefore,
there was no need for the Jesuits to invent a new system. They simply adopted the Buddhist model. From Dios pame
the 提宇子 De-u-shi, which was intended for the pronunciation of De-u-su or Deus. However, in Buddhistic semi-
transliteration in China proper the Bodhi seeds were rendered into 菩提子 which resembles the Japanese Jesuit 提宇
子 to a remarkable degree. In any rate, the general flavour of the entire Kirishitan vocabularies, as a whole, was
unmistakably Buddhistic. They might have sounded like Buddhist words to the Japanese ears, but they were strange
words of which they could make no meaning whatsoever until they have learned from some one who knew.
42) cf. Buhlmann, Walbert: Die Christliche Terminologie als Missionmethodologishes Problem. Schoneck-
Bechenrid. 1950; Nida, Eugene: God’s Word in Man’s Language. New York. 1952.

[page116]
began to ebb under the persecution, permitting the tropical jungle to reclaim the city now abandoned. The
jungle-like results are still seen among these remnants who have totally alineated themselves from the
Catholic church and prefer rather to remain Shintoists.43)
We still have a third example to review. In Korean society Christianity gave a subsidiary
impetus to the syncretic religion Ch’ ŏndogyo (天道敎), the Religion of the Heavenly Way, which placed
itself in an artificial opposition to Christianity. The founder Ch’oe, Cheu, ( 崔 濟 愚 ) declared when he
began to preach in 1806 that his religion was the Eastern Way or Eastern Doctrine in a contrast to the
Western Way or Western Doctrine, that is, Christianity as it was known in Korea. But, Ch’ ŏndogyo, the
Eastern Way, seems to have acquired not only its theological framework from Christianity but its
institutional aspects as well. In his P’odŏngmun ( 布 德 文 ) or “Declaration of Propagating Virtuous
Words” he wrote:
“Ever since the beginning of time there has been no change (in order) in the revolution of
spring and autumn in history and of the four seasons’ rise and fall. This is the trace of creation and
economy of the Heavenly Lord. The evidence of divine providence is visible everywhere in the
 world. Yet the foolish do not understand from where the grace of rain and dew come. And they ao
not know what the divine economy is.
“After the ages of the five (legendary) Emperors the Saints were born who deliniated the
courses and degrees of the movements of the sun, moon, and stars. And these books proved the
permanence of the Heavenly Way. Every success, every failure, every movement and every silence
is governed by the Commandment of Heaven. This is the reason why

43) cf. Tagita, Koya: “Transformation of Christianity in a Japanese Farming Village”, The Japanese Journal of
Ethnology 民族學研究 vol 18., No. 3, 1953, pp. 1-32 (with an English Summary).

[page117]
one must worship the Commandment and the Principles of Heaven
“But in recent years men in the world seem to have decided not to obey the Heavenly
Principle nor the Commandment of Heaven. Accordingly they have no peace in mind. And yet they
also do not know where to turn (to be saved) from this unrest. In the year kyŏng sin (庚申) I heard of
westerners who willingly forsake their wealth and power and abandon the world in order to follow
the will of the Lord of Heaven. They build their temples and practise what they believe. We know
the same principle. Therefore, there is no room to doubt it to be so (for the Westerns) also.
“In the last fourth moon I suddenly felt cold in my mind and trembling in my body.
Nobody knew what disease it was and the suffering was beyond description. When I was
overwhelmed by the pain divine words came to me from nowhere. Astonished. I sprang up from my
bed and looked around. The voice spoke to me: Be not afraid neither be fearful. The world calls me
Shang-ti (The Catholics in China used the same word to denote God). Do you not know me, Shang
Ti?
“I answered the voice and asked the reason for its sudden visit; It said ‘ ......I sent you
to the world to teach the people this doctrine. Wonder not nor doubt’. Then I asked: ‘Shall I teach
mankind through the Western Learning (Christianity)?’ The voice said ‘No’......”44)

The voice said “No.” But the new indigenous Korean religion made good use of the Korean terms
and concepts which the Western Way, that is Christianity, had already very successfully accommodated
for its energetic evangelism under the influence of the Riccian Jesuit missionwork in China in the 17th
Century.

44) Podongmun, in the Tonggyŏng Taejŏn History of the Founding of Chon do gyo 天道敎創建史, Seoul, 1944, p.
56.

[page 118]
So Hananim or Hanallim or the Lord of Heaven ( 天 主 ) or Shang-ti ( 上 帝 ) came to be
worshipped by both religious groups in the land. Furthermore, we have reason to believe that the very
phraseology of the Eastern Way received some direct influence from western way documents written in
Chinese.
These historical facts may give us some insight into the Han-San-Wei-I principle of the Far East.
Tables of the McCune-Reischauer System for the Romanization of Korean

[page 121]
THE ROMANIZATION OF KOREAN ACCORDING TO THE McCUNE-REISCHAUER
SYSTEM

Since it was first devised, and published by the Korea Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society in
1939*, the McCune-Reischauer system for the romanization of Korean has become the most widely used
system among Western students of Korea.
The authors described it as “a compromise between scientific accuracy and practical simplicity”.
They recognized that it was inadequate for phonetic or technical philological studies, and that it might not
prove acceptable for all social purposes. Indeed it would be impossible to devise a perfect system of
romanizing Korean which would serve all and every purpose. But McCune Reischauer has proved itself
very successful for historical, literary, political and military uses, and in the general presentation of
Korean proper names in romanized form.
The original article describing the system in detail is now out of print. It contains a great deal of
material which is of considerable linguistic interest, and details the status of Korean spelling and
pronunciation twenty years ago. Most of this is irrelevant to the practical purposes of present-day users of
the system, since the Korean language has made great strides in unification and standardization of
spelling and pronunciation.
The Council of the Society therefore thinks it desirable to publish this abbreviated account of the

*The Romanization of the Korean Language, based upon its Phonetic Structure by G M McCune and E O
Reischauer, Transactions of the Korea Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, Volume XXXIX, Seoul 1939. This work
should be consulted for a full explanation and justification of the system.

[page 122]
system together with tables which can be available for ready consultation and convenient practical use.
They describe the system only as applied to current standard Korean spelling and pronunciation.
These tables are also being published separately in pamphlet form.

PRINCIPLES OF THE SYSTEM

1 The McCune-Reischauer system aims at representing the pronunciation and not the spelling of Korean
words. It is not a method of transcribing Korean script, letter by letter, into the latin alphabet, but takes
full account of euphonic changes in the pronunciation of Korean letters.

2 The criterion for the phonetic values of the letters of the latin alphabet is, as in the widely-used Hepburn
system for Japanese and Wade-Giles system for Chinese, “the vowels as in Italian and the consonants as
in English”.

3 Since Korean has more vowels than the latin alphabet, it is impossible to avoid the use of diacritical
marks without causing other complications. However, only one is used: the micron over o and u.
ŏ is used for ㅓ because it is “generally speaking, most readily identified as a short o”,
and ŭ for — “because the pronunciation of — is closely related to u and is often confused with ㅜ (u) by
Occidentals.” (It might be added that ㅓ is often confused with ㅗ (o) by both Koreans and Occidentals).
4 Several consonant letters in the Korean alphabet represent two or more different sounds according to
[page123] their position in a word or phrase. A different letter is used in romanizing each sound: thus ㄹ
may be written r, l, or n and ㄱ as k, g, or ng, according to the value given to it in pronunciation.

5 Strongly aspirated consonants are indicated by the addition of the apostrophe; eg 칭찬 is romanized
ch’ingch’an (praise).
The apostrophe is also used to separate n and g when they do not form the single sound ng
(Korean ㅇ).

6 The hyphen is reserved for subsidiary divisions within words, such as Toksu-gung (덕 수궁), Haein-sa
(해인사).
The diaeresis (..) is used over e when ae or oe are not digraphs, ie, 애 is written ae, but 아에 is
written aë.

7 The following is the devisers’ original example of a complete sentence romanized according to their
detailed suggestions.
한글 운동은 연산군 조에 이르러 큰 액운을 당하였다.
Han’gŭl undongŭn Yŏnsan gun choë irŭrŏ k’ŭn aegunŭl tanghayŏtta.

8 It should particularly be noted that with the exception noted above the syllables of Sino-Korean words,
and especially of proper names, are not separated by hyphens.

The comprehensive table with its notes has been prepared by Mr John Harvey. But since this material
may prove unwieldy for ready reference by many who need to use romanization in their daily affairs, a
simplified table, covering almost all cases occurring in the transcription of proper names (ie Sino-Korean
words) has been appended In cases not covered by this simplified table, recourse can be had to the
comprehensive table and its notes.

[page 124]
[page 125]
A. Irregularities in Consonant Combinations (See Chart)
1. ㄹ is written r before ㅎ.
2. ㄹ is written n after ᄀ, 口, ㅂ, and ㅇ.
3. ᄂ is written l before or after ㄹ.
4. ᄀ，ㄷ，and ㅂ are written ng, n and m before ᄂ, ㄹ or ᄆ.
5. ᄀ, ㄷ, ㅂ and ㅈ are written g, d, b and j after ᄂ，口 or ㅇ. ᄀ and ᄇ are written
g and b after ㄹ.
6. Sat siot after a vowel is written with the same letter as the following consonant(but t
before ch)
7. ㄷ, ㅎ and sai siot are written s before ㅅ.
8. ㅎ before ᄀ, ㄷ or ㅈ is written as an apostrophe after the initial.

B. Notes
1.The initial and final consonants of words are romanized as indicated by the capital letters in the chart.
(Divisions between words do not prevent sound changes in spoken Korean, but for romanization purposes
it is most practical to indicate them only within words, following the word envision in the standard
orthography.)

2. Combinations of final and initial consonants of syllables within a word are romanized with their word
final and word initial values unless otherwise indicated in the chart.

3. Between vowels, single consonants are romanized with their initial values except for ᄀ,ㄷ, ㅂ and ス
which are romanized g, d, b, and j, and except for ㄷ and ㅌ as syllabic finals before 이 or palatalized
vowels, which are romanized j and ch’; double consonants are romanized as if they were final and initial.
(ㅅ, ㅈ, ㅊ and ㅌ have their initial value before vowels only when the vowels are in inflectional endings.
Otherwise they are romanized d, just as in the same situation ㅋ and ㄲ are romanized g and ㅍ is
romanized b.)
[page126]
4. As a syllabic initial, ㅇ is not romanized, since it stands for the absence of a consonant in this position.

5. The standard language pronounces and writes ㄹ as a word initial and ㄴ as a word initial before ㅣ or
palatalized vowels only in a few native Korean words and foreign loanwords. If they are found in these
positions in Sino-Korean, neither should be romanized before ㅣ or a palatalized vowel and ㄹ should be
romanized n before other vowels.

6. Standard orthography does not indicate the presence of sai siot (+ㅅ in the chart) between consonants,
and the provision for indicating it between a vowel and a consonant by adding a final ㅅ to the preceding
syllable is not always followed. It is almost impossible to catch all these omissions without complete
familiarity with the language, but doubtful cases should be checked. Sai siot occurs regularly between ㄹ
and ㄷ, ㅅ or ス in Sino-Korean words, and sai siot always occurs between a native verb stem final ㄴ or
ㅁ and ᄀ,ㄷ, a or ス as inflection initials. The possibility that a final a may represent sai siot should
always be considered.

7. ス is romanized sh rather than s before ㅟ to indicate the lip-rounding which accompanies it in this
position. (Its palatalization before ㅣ and palatalized vowels is not indicated.)

8. ㄵ, ㄺ and ㄼ combining with ㅎ should be written nch’, lk’, and lp’.

9. Some sequences of final and initial consonants within a word are so rare that their existence is
doubtful. They are indicated with brackets on the chart.

C. Inconsistencies and Ambiguities

After consonants (other than homorganic stops) the letters k, t, p, and ch, which normally represent the
unvoiced plosives, stand for the the forced plosives [page127] otherwise written kk, tt, pp, and tch. This
device simplifies consonant clusters which would be unwieldy without being helpful. It also makes it
possible to ignore the automatic change of the ordinary plosives (and ㅅ) into their forced equivalents
after ㄱ, ㄷ and ᄇ. Since the ordinary plosives are also forced by sai siot, are aspirated by ㅎ, and are
written g, d and b after ㄴ, ㅁ or ㅇ, and g and b after ㄹ to show that they are voiced, no ambiguity can
results.
The application of this principle to forced consonants preceded by homorganic stops (or the
identical reducing of “triple consonants”) means that these clusters are not distinguished from forced
consonants. This is probably ambiguous more in theory than in practice, since it seems to be hard to
confirm that this distinction, which analogy suggests, is consistent and significant in spoken Korean.
Forced consonants, particularly after short vowels in native Korean words, frequently seem to be
preceded by an intrusive homorganic stop.
Syllabic initial ㅎ is romanized h after k, t, and p for the sake of simplicity and because, while it
would tempt mispronunciation if it replaced the apostrophe after initial aspirates, it can be read fairly
correctly in this position. The combination of a plosive and ㅎ is traditionally considered to equal an
aspirate, but a hom¬organic stop usually intrudes before it, as it often does before other aspirates, under
the same conditions as before forced consonants. H in this position therefore indicates either aspiration or
a homorganic aspirate.
The spelling of the names of the letters ㄷ, ㅈ, ㅊ, ㅋ, ㅌ, ㅍ, and ㅎ is artificial in that it does
not conform to actual pronunciation in all cases. In the unlikely event of needing to romanize these names
followed by inflectional endings they should be transcribed in accordance with the pronunciation.
[page128]
[page129]
ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY KOREA BRANCH

LIST OF OFFICERS FOR 1961

As elected at the annual general meeting held on 7th December 1960 with cooptions and
reappointments in April 1961 made by the Council in accordance with Article XVI of the Constitution of
the Society.

PRESIDENT His Excellency M Roger Chambard,

Ambassador of the French Republic

VICEPRESIDENT
TREASURER Mr Carl Miller
CORRESPONDING
SECRETARY Mr Peter Smart
RECORDING
SECRETARY Miss Grace Haskell
LIBRARIAN Fr Richard Rutt
COUNCILLORS Mr Ch’oe Sangsu
Mr Gregory Henderson
Mr Alan Heyman
Dr Lee Sangun