We ought to be grateful to the august sovereign of Monaco in that he
enabled an enterprising individual to keep open for us in so brilliant a
fashion the last public gambling-house in Europe. The principality is
but large enough to contain the court of the sovereign which is held in
the little town of Monaco, and the establishment of the last of
legitimate gamblers which is maintained at Monte Carlo. If the report of
the world does not malign the prince, he lives, as does the gambler, out
of the spoil taken from the gamblers. He is to be seen in his royal
carriage going forth with his royal consort,--and very royal he looks!
His little teacup of a kingdom,--or rather a roll of French bread, for it
is crusty and picturesque,--is now surrounded by France. There is Nice
away to the west, and Mentone to the east, and the whole kingdom lies
within the compass of a walk. Mentone, in France, at any rate, is within
five miles of the monarch's residence. How happy it is that there should
be so blessed a spot left in tranquillity on the earth's surface!

But on the present occasion Monte Carlo was not in all its grandeur,
because of the heat of the weather. Another month, and English lords,
and English members of Parliament, and English barristers would be
there,--all men, for instance, who could afford to be indifferent as to
their character for a month,--and the place would be quite alive with
music, cards, and dice. At present men of business only flocked to its
halls, eagerly intent on making money, though, alas! almost all doomed
to lose it. But our one friend with the long light locks was impatient
for the fray. The gambling-room had now been opened, and the servants
of the table, less impatient than he, were slowly arranging their money
and their cards. Our friend had taken his seat, and was already
resolving, with his eyes fixed on the table, where he would make his
first plunge. In his right hand was a bag of gold, and under his left