St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1888-09-23
SUNDAY REFLECTIONS.

the Duke a. A0Sta, DfOther OF tne king
of Italy, with his niece, princess of the
line of BoNAPARTE, daughter Of the
dukes own sister CLoTHILDE, is one of
the most extraordinary revelations of
the possibilities of rottenness in royal
families of Europe yet called to public
attention. 1t takes good deal to make
BONAPARTE blush, hut the son of a
king, the brother of king, and man
who has been king himself, should,
with his three sons born of former
wife, have sat long time on the brink
of folly and gazed upon the field Of in
cest before determining to outrage hui
manity and defy God.
-"
And the young woman, OF whom IL is
said that she is pretty and wise. what
can be thought of her? She fell in love
with her own uncle, twice her own age,
and boldly assumed the marriage bond
without a tremor Of shame. At the
wedding the ladies of Turin united In a
gorgeous present to remind her of some
deed of charity once performed in her
name: but how much more appropriate
would have been the simple gift OF a
copy of Shakespeare, with the passage
marked wherein the Prince of Denmark
dilates upon the crime of incest.
-
The most surprising thing about this
violation of moral law and decency is
the calm, matter-of-fact way in which
the newspaper correspondents spoke OF
it. The wedding was described as one
of great pomp, but while the fact that
it was one between uncle and niece
was mentioned. there seemed to be
nothing in the circumstance to excite
remark from any of the writers. Al
together, this is one of the worst royal
scandals humber and more decent
people have had occasion to read about
for long time.
The coming woman is evidently
AMELIA RIVES-CHANDLER. That fact
may be considered as settled in all lit
erarY and social circles. An Eastern
paper declares that she is second
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE; but Mrs.
STOWE was forty when she wrote Uncle
Toms Cabin, and Mrs. RIvEs-CHAN-
DLER is not yet twenty-five. Mrs
STOWE is homely old person, who pro-
badly never flirted in her life, while
Mrs. RIVEs-CHA NDLER is as pretty as
picture, gets her dresses from WORTH,
has the reputation of manslayer, and
knows more about kissing than any
other woman alive
-"
Mrs. RIVEs is a busy person. Her
honeymoon is scarcely over before she
flashes upon the world another novel,
quite as enhancing as THE Quick and
the Dead,' which is, without doubt, a
remarkable story. But maids and ma
| irons who go to see LA Tosca, "(and they
all do that only make people laugh
when they call Mrs. RIvEs improper.
The story is work of genius. Compare
it with the first half of RHODA BRoUGH-
TONS "Good-by, Sweetheart" and
you'll come to the conclusion that ii
lacks color and warmth.
~
The last novel from the fair ANlE-
LAS pen is called ''Herod." 1t is the
same HERoD who killed the Hebrew
babies. He was not what one would
call a pleasant person. He had way
of cutting Threats which would hardly
be admired in our time. He killed the
members of his cabinet; he killed his
brother-in-law; he killed his wife; he is
shrewdly suspected of having helped to
kill his sons; he finally killed himself.
| HERoD was what in our Western vernac-
ular might be called holy terror. One
would hardly think that the adventures
| of such person would be congenial
| theme for the pen of young American
| lady. Yet Mrs. RIvEs has done him up
in style which, if not gaudy, is very
| neat.
There is also new publication just
out called "The Rock or the Rye" 1t is
very beautiful. Here is an extract from
the opening chapter: ''There was a
yawping wind ahowl that night,
with no mist to moisten it; yet it
cringed and whimpered, snored and was
| hushed necessarily, as though wet to its
| skin with a blizzard. Agamemna was
deucedly cut up by her beauless walk
| from the grocery, and from finding
thereat no letter from Rye, for she had
expected him to write remittingly. In
the jim-jam lightning she saw her own
profile clearly cut athwart the suave
and compacent sky like acids of litmus
paper; and the dry, whitey-mauve sand
swirled clutchingly above her massive
| feet in that wetleSs wind. And after
what thunderous fashion those feet
pounded homeward."
~
The extract continues: with slim
| glide of her lissome limbs, Agamemna
/ squirmed from her bed, landing single
| springly in mid-foor. Shaking her
| grand head, the golden hairpins in her
| coiled fleece of fire swirled around her
in glistening shower, gemming the
| dusty floor as stars in an urbane storm
| sky! One more twist of the strong
| limbs and her wrapper left the shining,
| satin skin, as she stood Godiously in the
spun filament of her red gold capillary
| attractions"
-
A well known London physician has
pronounced in favor of cOrsets for
women. laced moderately tight. This
| does not settle the corset question, but
it throws some light upon the inferior
social position accorded to medical men
| in England.