THE GREAT SENSATION.
Monday’s papers were full of Dr. Nugent’s sermon, and its sensational
termination. Tongues wagged fierce concerning the artistic creation,
its creator, and the fearless, the eloquent divine.
[_New York Herald._]
“The sensation of the season has arisen out of ‘A Grecian Temptress,’
by Ouida Angelo. Only crude, narrow and dogmatic opinion condemns.
The liberal and artistic world welcomes the work and its producer,
and New York is to be congratulated upon the priceless possession of
a genius who has obliterated sex in the grandness of her conceptions,
in the boldness of her execution and in her wondrous grasp of poetic
imagination. Dr. Nugent has made a fearful mistake, and his attack
upon the work and the woman in his pulpit yesterday, was the pursuit
of a course altogether at variance with his usual conservatism. He
has, if possible, defeated his very object by the bitterness of his
denunciation. For it is a known fact that New York breaks its neck to
see anything which is even nastily described, and ‘A Grecian Temptress’
will now be viewed by thousands who, but for the preacher’s invective,
would never have known of its existence. The learned doctor of divinity
in future would do well to confine himself to biblical subjects, and
leave artistic discussion to those who can appreciate.”
[_New York Post._]
“New York has the greatest things of any city in the world, and we
have added to our proud possession in the shape of Dr. Nugent, whose
courage has won the admiration of all classes of the community. Some
years ago an adventurous and audacious creature established a studio in
this city, and has since palmed off upon certain hysterical newspaper
men and old maids sighing for excitement, some vulgar carvings, and by
pandering to depravity and licentiousness, has contrived to secure a
certain idolatrous following. Dr. Nugent, in the face of her admiring
adherents, many of whom are members of his own congregation, has had
the courage to read New York a much-needed lesson. In an age when so
many preachers speak to please their rich constituencies, it is indeed
refreshing to find one man who preaches his convictions, regardless of
consequences. ‘A Grecian Temptress,’ by Ouida Angelo, is a dangerous
work of art, because of its very seductive quality. To the youth of
our land it is suggestive of pernicious evil. The Society for the
Prevention of Vice would do well to spend less time in hindering the
Turkish dance, and more effort in the prevention of the prostitution of
pure marble to such ignoble ends. The _Post_ appreciates Dr. Nugent’s
honest efforts in the cause of public decency. We have recently been
cleansing the political atmosphere. Let us second every honest effort
to purify public morals.”
[_Puck._]
“A great clown has appeared in the pulpit arena, and he shows every
Sunday at a great and fashionable church. True, the audience does
not laugh aloud. They do it in their sleeves; nor do any swallow the
medicines prescribed by this theological quack. The listening folk wait
till they get out. They then sneak around the corner and devour the
forbidden fruit. Churches are fast adopting the methods of the circus,
and we may soon look for the deacons to hire space on bill boards, and
there, in all the colors of the rainbow, we will see pictures of hell,
heaven and many other strong features of the regulation religious bill
of fare. Suppose Ouida Angelo wants to carve a pretty woman’s leg.
Don’t we know that such things exist, even though sometimes the shape
is not real? Shame upon you, Dr. Nugent! Have you not a large enough
task to look after the morals of your own flock, that you must forsooth
hold up to public ridicule, the greatest genius which New York has
seen for a century?”
[_New York Journal._]
“Ouida Angelo should now die happy. She has been outrageously
criticised by the scribblers of a subsidized press until they have
absolutely won for her a niche in the temple of fame, and now, to
cap the climax, she has at length antagonized the church. A noted
preacher has set all tongues wagging, and blood-tingling murders,
shipwrecks, are forgotten in a universal discussion over a piece of
marble statuary. The learned doctor says the artist is sensational, and
yet he proceeds to undignify the church by bettering her instruction.
He says she is vulgar, yet he vulgarizes a noble theme by becoming
offensively personal. No one can quarrel with his right to say what he
pleases about a work which has become public property. But he has no
more right to discuss what he pleases to term her private life, than he
has to attack the character of the richest member of his congregation.
Who authorizes him to set himself up as a judge and executioner of
the character of his fellows? Among people of all classes there is a
growing disrespect for the mere ecclesiastic, and such sermons are
aiding to bring the church into public contempt. This is gravely to
be regretted, especially in this instance, as Dr. Nugent was rapidly
forging to the front as a liberal and intelligent public speaker, and
this ill-considered effort will undoubtedly tend to lessen his great
influence as a public speaker.”
The preacher sat alone in his study, a prey to many conflicting
emotions. He had read all the journalistic comments on his sermon,
and was filled with mighty discontent. For months he had known the
woman he condemned, and in his inner being there had been aroused for
her, a strange interest. To him, she had unfolded many of her artistic
dreams, but he did not comprehend, for he had been nurtured in a narrow
school, and had embraced in his smooth and successful career, but few
of fierce experiences. Nor was he completely assured of the sincerity
of his motive. A dim, shadowy belief was slowly forcing its way through
his consciousness that he had spoken for other purposes than the mere
desire to uplift and purify public taste. He had learned to realize,
inconsistent as it may seem, that the woman was really noble of heart
and character, but his education and environment made him believe that
she was debasing the noble gifts with which Nature had endowed her, and
he was preaching as much to the individual woman as he had apparently
been preaching to the public mind. The complex nature of his attitude
to the great question troubled him, and a furrowed brow and anxious
eye told a tale of mental agony. Now that he had spoken, he was filled
with a grave doubt as to the righteousness of his conduct, and he was
paying the penalty of all men who are sensitively moulded. Then the
thought came to him that he was using his pulpit, not for mankind but
for himself, and he questioned his right to such a course of action. He
could not, and would not, deny to himself that the artist possessed for
him an enormous attraction. A vague dream had often come to him that
he could breathe into her soul nobler and purer dreams, but he put it
away each time with a weaker struggle against the passion that slowly
made its inroads into his soul. She was a Bohemian. She broke all links
in the chain of custom and established precedent. She exhibited a
reckless freedom in the comradeship of men, that maddened and frenzied
him, yet he was speechless. He would crush this out of her, drive her
from this insane, voluptuous life, and uplift her to his higher sphere,
where her true nobility of character might be exercised, freed from
the Bacchanalian influences of her mad life. Gradually, as he thought,
he was ashamed to think how much of personal longing had crept into
a sermon which should have been delivered in the honest work of his
sacred profession.
He awoke from his fevered self-examination, and buttoning his great
coat around him, went out upon his daily visits to the poor, for,
though he was accounted a great and fashionable preacher, he stole
out daily to haunts where misery dwelt, and the greater part of a
magnificent salary went annually to places unknown to organized and
official charity, and he was almost afraid that people would find it
out!