In July, 1894, a new war for the control of Korea was begun between China and Japan. Each of these two great powers claimed to be guarding the interests of its subjects living in the Hermit Kingdom; but it was soon evident that the real object of each was to prevent the other from seizing Korea. In a very short time they were engaged in open warfare, and the fate of Korea was at stake.

The Japanese soon showed their superiority over the Chinese in battle, both on the land and on the sea. The world was given a grand exhibition of the skill with which the Japanese made use of the modern resources of warfare.

Several of the contests in this war will take rank with some of the "decisive battles of the world's history." Even before the formal declaration of war was made, the Japanese war ships attacked and sunk a Chinese ship named the Kowshing, which was carrying troops to Korea. This affair caused much excitement at the time, as the Chinese ship was sailing under the British flag. It was soon learned, however, that the rights of the Japanese had been ignored, and they were justified in attacking this ship.

Several battles of minor importance were fought in Korea near Seoul, in all of which the Japanese were victorious. The battle which gave possession of Korea to Japan was fought at Ping Yang on the 15th of September, and resulted in the defeat and flight of the Chinese and the capture of that city. Only two days later the Chinese and Japanese fleets met off the entrance to the Yalu River, and here was fought the

greatest naval battle in which modern war ships have yet been engaged.

The officers of the Japanese fleet were graduates of the best naval schools of Europe and America. The war ships engaged on both sides represented the best that modern skill could produce. In the battle which tested the bravery of both nations the victory fell to the Japanese, who, though fewer in numbers, were better led than their enemies and so conquered them. The Chinese war ships were sunk or disabled, and, as a result of the battle, the command of the sea passed to the victorious Japanese fleet.

The Chinese had one more stronghold, in which they placed the greatest confidence. It was Port Arthur. To attack this point the Japanese landed a second army, and, after another great battle, it was captured.

On land the Japanese army had advanced into Manchuria and was working its way towards the Chinese frontier. The war cry was "On to Peking." It appeared to be certain that the war would not end before the Chinese, routed and defeated at every point, were humiliated by the capture of their capital. The Chinese now surrendered, and, after some delay, the emperor, who had meanwhile restored to Li Hung Chang his former rank and privileges, sent the aged viceroy to Japan to make terms of peace.

The far-famed Chinese minister was received with great honor by the Japanese government. The prime minister of Japan, with other leading officials, went to the port of Shimonoseki to meet him. Within a few days of his arrival, as Li Hung Chang was returning from a

conference with the Japanese ministers, he was shot and seriously wounded by a reckless Japanese soldier. Great excitement was caused by the attempted assassination. The Emperor and the Empress of Japan showed

intense anxiety and regret for the unfortunate affair. The Japanese people felt that they were disgraced in the eyes of the world, and their rejoicing was sincere when it was known that Li Hung Chang would recover. In a short time the viceroy was able to meet again

with the Japanese ministers, and a treaty of peace was made.

By the terms of this treaty China yielded some territory, including the island of Formosa, and agreed to pay an immense amount of money as a war debt to Japan. The war was then declared to be at an end.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE GREAT SIBERIAN RAILWAY.

In these days, when railroads are extended with such ease and rapidity into regions once remote, we are hardly surprised to learn of the great railroad which Russia is building across the distant land of Siberia.

To understand how bold an undertaking the building of this road really is, let us look at the country through which it is to pass.

As we think of Siberia, there comes before us the picture of a cold, barren, almost uninhabited country, situated in northern Asia. Perhaps many of our young people have read the sad story of Russian exiles, and so see in their picture of Siberia long lines of men and women, bound with clanking chains and cruel fetters, marching to their hopeless imprisonment in the faraway mines of eastern Siberia. But this great country ought to mean to us more and better things than these pictures suggest.

The Russian coat of arms bears a two-headed eagle,

signifying that the empire includes land in two continents. By far the larger part of this empire lies in Asia.

Siberia is a vast country, and a comparison with other countries will make this clearer to us. If the United States could be set down upon Siberia, there would still be territory enough left to equal all the countries of Europe not including Russia. Siberia extends five thousand miles from east to west, and twenty-five hundred miles from north to south.

The whole northern part of the country consists of marshes and bogs, called tundras, which are frozen the greater part of the year. Here the only inhabitants are wandering tribes, driving their herds of reindeer from place to place in search of the scanty pasturage to be found.

During the short summer the surface of the tundras thaws to a depth of a few inches, and a coarse grass springs up. This, with a few stunted bushes and moss, is the only vegetation ever seen over large tracts of northern Siberia.

In striking contrast to this frozen region is a great area in the southern and western part, where the summers are long and the winters are no more severe than they are in our own Northern States.

In these parts of Siberia melons ripen easily in the summer sun, and wheat is a most profitable crop to be raised. Here are the steppes, or rolling prairies, a continuation of those between the Volga and the Ural rivers. The soil is black and rich, and reminds us of our own Western prairies. In all directions are to be