The little town of Monaco is his next resting-place.  This town, which is now under the government of the King of Sardinia, was at one time an independent principality; and M. Dumas gives a lively sketch of the vicissitudes which the little state has undergone, mimicking, as it has, the movements of great monarchies, and being capable of boasting even of its revolution and its republic.  During the reign of Louis XIV. the territory of Monaco gave the title of prince to a certain Honore III., who was under the protection of the Grand Monarque.

“The marriage of this Prince of Monaco,” says our annalist, “was not happy.  One fine morning his spouse, who was the same beautiful and gay Duchess de Valentinois so well known in the scandalous chronicles of that age, found herself at one step out of the states of her lord and sovereign.  She took refuge at Paris.  Desertion was not all.  The prince soon learned that he was as unfortunate as a husband can be.

“At that epoch, calamities of this description were only laughed at; but the Prince of Monaco was, as the duchess used to say, a strange man, and he took offence.  He got information from time to time of the successive gallants whom his wife thought fit to honour, and he hanged them in effigy, one after the other, in the front court of his palace.  The court was soon full, and the executions bordered on the high road; nevertheless, the prince relented not, but continued always to hang.  The report of these executions reached Versailles; Louis XIV. was, in his turn, displeased, and counselled the prince to be more lenient in his punishments.  He of Monaco answered that, being a sovereign prince, he had undoubtedly the right of pit and gallows on his own domain, and that surely he might hang as many men of straw as he pleased.

“The affair bred so much scandal, that it was thought prudent to send the duchess back to her husband.  He, to make her punishment the more complete, had resolved that she should, on her return, pass before this row of executed effigies.  But the dowager Princess of Monaco prevailed upon her son to forego this ingenious revenge, and a bonfire was made of all the scarecrows.  ‘It was,’ said Madame de Sevigne, ’the torch of their second nuptials.’ ...

“A successor of this prince, Honore IV., was reigning tranquilly in his little dominions when the French Revolution broke out.  The Monacites watched its successive phases with a peculiar attention, and when the republic was finally proclaimed at Paris, they took advantage of Honore’s absence, who was gone from home, and not known where, armed themselves with whatever came to hand, marched to the palace, took it by assault, and commenced plundering the cellars, which might contain from twelve to fifteen thousand bottles of wine.  Two hours after, the eight thousand subjects of the Prince of Monaco were drunk.

“Now, at this first trial, they