the city gains so much in beauty from the enclosing mountains, that it seems to be much the more picturesque. If the capital of Korea is more charmingly situated than the capital of China, the wall of Seoul is reminiscent of the walls of the Nankow Pass in the superb disdain with which it clings to the edges of the mountains, climbing the most outlandish places in the course of its almost purposeless meanderings. It extends beyond the lofty crests of Peuk-an and across the splendid and isolated peak of Nam-san, enclosing a forest in one direction, a vacant and soulless plain in another, dropping here into a ravine, to emerge again a few hundred feet higher on the mountain slopes. The wall is in good preservation. In places it is a rampart of mud faced with masonry ; more generally it is a solid structure of stone, fourteen miles in circumference, twenty-five to forty feet in height, battlemented along its entire length and pierced by eight arches of stone. The arches serve as gateways; they are crowned with high tiled towers, the gables of which curve in the fashion of China.
Within the radius of these stone walls, the city spreads itself across a plain, or high on the mountain side, within the snug shelter of some hollow, enjoys a pleasant, cool and comfortable seclusion. Within its metropolitan area there are changes of scenery which would delight the most weary sightseer. Beyond these limits, the appearance and character of the country is refreshing, and is without that monotonous dead-level stretch of plain, which, reaching to the walls of Pekin, detracts so greatly from the position of that capital. Within this broader vista there are hills and wooded valleys. Villages rest beneath the grey, cool shadows of the bush. Upon the hills lie many stately tombs, fringes of trees shielding them from the rush of the winds. There
