Notwithstanding the constant practice of men, one is constantly surprised at the ignorance of the commonest laws of philosophy that is betrayed on such occasions. I have often seen the gardens of the Tuileries illuminated, when the torches have been placed on the pedestale of the statues, but in plain view; the eye necessarily taking in the flame, to the exclusion of all the minor light.--Were these torches concealed in a way to exclude them from the view, while their rays fell on the statuary,--a thing easily enough done,--the effect would be infinitely more agreeable, though perhaps less vulgarly flaring. I remember to have once beheld a drop scene, at a theatre, formed of mirrors. A flood of light was on and near the stage, and, as a matter of course, the audience, instead of seeing itself when the curtain fell, as was the intention, had a glorious view of the reflection of a thousand lamps and candles! Had the lights been so disposed in the boxes, as to illuminate the audience, while they were not seen from the stage, the desired effect would have been produced. Franklin, speaking of some of the coarse contrivances of French industry, pithily remarks, that “a respectable _instinct_ would be better than such a _reason_!”[5] Still, the illuminations of architecture are usually good; and I remember one particular thing at Paris, that is quite unrivalled in its way. The Hotel of the Legion of Honour is the ancient Hôtel de Salmes, of which Jefferson speaks so much in praise, in his letters. It is a low building, though a very pretty one; and on the occasion of the great fêtes it is the practice to raise a tall spar from the roof, and to hoist at it an imitation of the star of the order, formed by coloured lamps. This star, seen on a dark night, shining, as it were, in the heavens, is, in its way, the prettiest thing I know. We have also had the Corpus Domini, which is the great Catholic fête of the year. The royal family walked in the procession, as usual; and there was a parade of the Knights of St. Stephen, in their robes,--an order of chivalry that, I believe, had some connexion with the suppression of the piracies of the barbarians from Africa.