The tomb itself is enclosed by courts, halls, sacrificial temples, guard-houses, and sentry-sheds. We left our horses at the inner entrance, and the massive doors of red lacquer-work groaned on their hinges as they were slowly pushed open by half a dozen soldiers. We found ourselves in a square yard, a kind of court of honour, with avenues of trees many centuries old, giants and monsters in stone, and canals fenced in with marble balustrades and arched by bridges. These courts are divided by open galleries which lead to the central pagoda. This square building contains the commemorative tablet, a monument cut out of a single stone of about thirty feet high. The whole stands on a colossal tortoise, larger than two elephants. Immense cauldrons, big enough to cook a whole ox at a time, for sacrificial purposes, are placed at short distances. Once a year a great ceremony is held in honour of the Great Ancestor. On this occasion the Emperor should be present in person, but for many years the imperial court has been represented by ambassadors; and considering what a journey from Pekin to Mukden involves, it is not surprising that the sovereign is content to be present by proxy. I was told that the mandarins selected to undertake this onerous pilgrimage are often persons whose presence is not desired at Pekin. Their adventurous journey often occupies many months, and often there have been cases in which the envoys never returned at all. The Great Ancestor was one of the founders of the Manchu dynasty in China, and his real tomb is cut out in the heart of the mountain, but the exact spot is unknown. We spent the greater part of the afternoon among the tombs, and I made the best use I could of the permission to sketch and to take photographs. But the most perfect apparatus, and the pen of the most accomplished narrator, are bound to fail to do justice to the reality. Art and nature are blended so exquisitely here that it is impossible to give an adequate idea of the place. However beautiful the individual monuments may be--and they are very beautiful--the real charm of the ideal site lies in the perfect harmony of solitude and peace. [Illustration: THE ENTRANCE TO THE IMPERIAL TOMBS "The massive doors of red lacquer-work groaned on their hinges" To face page 104] On the return journey we again passed through the muddy, dreary suburbs. Most of the houses along the dull, deserted roads, are built of clay and covered with straw. Rough planks close the entrance, and from the windows the rice-paper hangs down in tatters. We met several funeral processions, the huge black coffins being carried in front.