The suspicious and watchful conduct of the Chinese government towards strangers was ill suited to the free and independent spirit of Britons. Confined within the limits of their hotel, the populous capital of China was to them little better than a desert. It was, therefore, less painful to be obliged to quit a place which they could consider in no other light than as an honourable prison, and to take leave of a people, whose general character seemed to be strongly marked with pride, meanness, and ignorance. After having passed some time in a nation, where every petty officer is a tyrant, and every man a slave, how doubly precious do the blessings of that true liberty appear, which our happy constitution affords to every one the means of enjoying at home; where property is secured from violence, and where the life of the meanest subject is equally protected with that of the prince. Let those visionary men, who amuse themselves in building Utopian governments, and those who, from real or fancied injury or neglect, feel the chagrin of disappointment, visit other countries, and experience how justice is administered in other nations; they will then be taught to confess that real liberty exists only in Great Britain--in that happy island where, to use the expression of an eminent writer on the laws of nations[34], "an enlightened piety in the people is the firmest support of lawful authority; and in the sovereign's breast, it is the pledge of the people's safety, and excites their confidence." [34] Vattel. Impressed with such sentiments, on the evening of the 7th of October I rode through the streets of Pekin, for the last time, in company with Mr. Maxwell. We were quite alone, not a single Chinese servant, nor soldier, nor officer to conduct us; yet we had no difficulty in finding our way. We passed through the broad streets of this capital from one extremity to the other without the least molestation, or, indeed, the least notice. We could not forbear remarking the extraordinary contrast, that the two greatest cities in the world exhibited at this hour of the day. In the public streets of Pekin, after five or six o'clock in the evening, scarcely a human creature is seen to move, but they abound with dogs and swine. All its inhabitants, having finished the business of the day, are now retired to their respective homes to eat their rice and, agreeably with the custom of their great Emperor, which to them is a law, to lie down with the setting sun; at which time in London, the crowd is so great, from Hyde Park corner to Mile End, as to interrupt each other. In Pekin, from the moment the day begins to dawn, the buzz and the bustle of the populace is like that of a swarm of bees; whilst, on the contrary, the streets of London at an early hour in the morning are nearly deserted. At eight in the evening, even in summer, the gates of Pekin are shut, and the keys sent to the governor, after which they cannot be opened on any consideration.