story, and his keen eye took in the situation.

This "man on horseback," master of the situation and moulder of the
destinies of Japan, Hidéyoshi (1536-1598), was afterward known as the
Taik[=o], or Retired Regent. The rarity of the title makes it applicable
in common speech to this one person. Greater than his dead master,
Nobunaga, and ingenious in the arts of war and peace, Hidéyoshi
compelled the warring daimi[=o]s, even the proud lord of Satsuma,[10] to
yield to his power, until the civil minister of the emperor, reverently
bowing, could say: "All under Heaven, Peace." Now, Japan had once more a
central government, intensely jealous and despotic, and with it the new
religion must sooner or later reckon. Religion apart from politics was
unknown in the Land of the Gods.

Yet, in order to employ the vast bodies of armed men hitherto accustomed
to the trade of war, and withal jealous of China and hostile to Korea,
Hidéyoshi planned the invasion of the little peninsular kingdom by these
veterans whose swords were restless in their scabbards. After months of
preparation, he despatched an army in two great divisions, one under the
Christian general Konishi, and one under the Buddhist general Kato.
After a brilliant campaign of eighteen days, the rivals, taking
different routes, met in the Korean capital. In the masterly campaign
which followed, the Japanese armies penetrated almost to the extreme
northern boundary of the kingdom. Then China came to the rescue and the
Japanese were driven southward.

During the six or seven years of war, while the invaders crossed swords
with the natives and their Chinese allies, and devastated Korea to an
extent from which she has never recovered, there were Jesuit
missionaries attending the Japanese armies. It is not possible or even