|
Table of Contents
Chapter 8
THE PULPIT
I had not been seated very
long ere a man of a certain venerable robustness entered; immediately as the
storm-pelted door flew back upon admitting him, a quick regardful eyeing of
him by all the congregation, sufficiently attested that this fine old man was
the chaplain. Yes, it was the famous Father Mapple, so called by the whalemen,
among whom he was a very great favorite. He had been a sailor and a harpooneer
in his youth, but for many years past had dedicated his life to the ministry.
At the time I now write of, Father Mapple was in the hardy winter of a healthy
old age; that sort of old age which seems merging into a second flowering
youth, for among all the fissures of his wrinkles, there shone certain mild
gleams of a newly developing bloom --the spring verdure peeping forth even
beneath February's snow. No one having previously heard his history, could for
the first time behold Father Mapple without the utmost interest, because there
were certain engrafted clerical peculiarities about him, imputable to that
adventurous maritime life he had led. When he entered I observed that he
carried no umbrella, and certainly had not come in his carriage, for his
tarpaulin hat ran down with melting sleet, and his great pilot cloth jacket
seemed almost to drag him to the floor with the weight of the water it had
absorbed. However, hat and coat and overshoes were one by one removed, and
hung up in a little space in an adjacent corner; when, arrayed in a decent
suit, he quietly approached the pulpit. Like most old fashioned pulpits, it
was a very lofty one, and since a regular stairs to such a height would, by
its long angle with the floor, seriously contract the already small area of
the chapel, the architect, it seemed, had acted upon the hint of Father Mapple,
and finished the pulpit without a stairs, substituting a perpendicular side
ladder, like those used in mounting ..
2 a ship from a boat at
sea. The wife of a whaling captain had provided the chapel with a handsome
pair of red worsted man-ropes for this ladder, which, being itself nicely
headed, and stained with a mahogany color, the whole contrivance, considering
what manner of chapel it was, seemed by no means in bad taste. Halting for an
instant at the foot of the ladder, and with both hands grasping the ornamental
knobs of the man-ropes, Father Mapple cast a look upwards, and then with a
truly sailorlike but still reverential dexterity, hand over hand, mounted the
steps as if ascending the main-top of his vessel. the perpendicular parts of
this side ladder, as is usually the case with swinging ones, were of
cloth-covered rope, only the rounds were of wood, so that at every step there
was a joint. At my first glimpse of the pulpit, it had not escaped me that
however convenient for a ship, these joints in the present instance seemed
unnecessary. For I was not prepared to see Father Mapple after gaining the
height, slowly turn round, and stooping over the pulpit, deliberately drag up
the ladder step by step, till the whole was deposited within, leaving him
impregnable in his little Quebec. I pondered some time without fully
comprehending the reason for this. Father Mapple enjoyed such a wide
reputation for sincerity and sanctity, that I could not suspect him of
courting notoriety by any mere tricks of the stage. No, thought I, there must
be some sober reason for this thing; furthermore, it must symbolize something
unseen. Can it be, then, that by that act of physical isolation, he signifies
his spiritual withdrawal for the time, from all outward worldly ties and
connexions? Yes, for replenished with the meat and wine of the word, to the
faithful man of God, this pulpit, I see, is a self-containing stronghold --a
lofty Ehrenbreitstein, with a perennial well of water within the walls. But
the side ladder was not the only strange feature of the place, borrowed from
the chaplain's former sea-farings. Between the marble cenotaphs on either hand
of the pulpit, the wall which formed its back was adorned with a large
painting representing a gallant ship beating against a terrible storm off a
lee coast of black rocks and snowy breakers. But high above the ..
3 flying scud and
dark-rolling clouds, there floated a little isle of sunlight, from which
beamed forth an angel's face; and this bright face shed a distinct spot of
radiance upon the ship's tossed deck, something like that silver plate now
inserted into the Victory's plank where Nelson fell. Ah, noble ship, the angel
seemed to say, beat on, beat on, thou noble ship, and bear a hardy helm; for
lo! the sun is breaking through; the clouds are rolling off --serenest azure
is at hand. Nor was the pulpit itself without a trace of the same sea-taste
that had achieved the ladder and the picture. Its panelled front was in the
likeness of a ship's bluff bows, and the Holy Bible rested on the projecting
piece of scroll work, fashioned after a ship's fiddle-headed beak. What could
be more full of meaning? --for the pulpit is ever this earth's foremost part;
all the rest comes in its rear; the pulpit leads the world. From thence it is
the storm of God's quick wrath is first descried, and the bow must bear the
earliest brunt. From thence it is the God of breezes fair or foul is first
invoked for favorable winds. Yes, the world's a ship on its passage out, and
not a voyage complete; and the pulpit is its prow.
|
