Only, within doors, they lower it to a soft twilight during the Silent Hours.

They have a great horror of perfect darkness, and their lights are never wholly extinguished.

On occasions of festivity they continue the duration of full light, but equally keep note of the distinction between night and day, by mechanical contrivances which answer the purpose of our clocks and watches.

They are very fond of music; and it is by music that these chronometers strike the principal division of time.

At every one of their hours, during their day, the sounds coming from all the time-pieces in their public buildings, and caught up, as it were, by those of houses or hamlets scattered amidst the landscapes without the city, have an effect singularly sweet, and yet singularly solemn.
But during the Silent Hours these sounds are so subdued as to be only faintly heard by a waking ear.