通译双语文库:白鲸8．梅普尔神甫的讲坛

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 favourite. 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.

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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 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 colour, 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 sailor-like but still reverential dexterity, hand over hand, mounted the steps as if ascending the main-top of his vessel.

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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.

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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.

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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 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.”

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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 a projecting piece of scroll work, fashioned after a ship’s fiddle-headed beak.

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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 favourable winds. Yes, the world’s a ship on its passage out, and not a voyage complete; and the pulpit is its prow.

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8．梅普尔神甫的讲坛|CHAPTER 8. The Pulpit.

突然，教堂的门开了，雨雪之中走进一位身高体健、德高龄华的老人来。

他就是为捕鲸者深爱的梅普尔神甫，年轻时当过水手和标枪手，后来投身教会事业。

梅普尔神甫的脸上有一种神奇的光泽，那种像二月的雪地突然冒出嫩绿的枝芽时闪烁的光泽，我相信，只有返老还童的人才有。

即使你对梅普尔神甫的过去一无所知，你也会深深地被他的气质打动，而你一旦知道了他以前在海上出生人死的生活，就更会对他产生兴趣。

他摘下几乎湿透了的帽子和外衣，一一挂好，换上了在这样的场合该穿的衣服，走到了讲坛边儿上。

讲坛很高，与别的讲坛没有什么两样。不过，旁边没有占了一块很大地方的台阶，而是靠着讲坛垂着一副软梯，和从小艇攀上大船用的软梯一样。

这个软梯是用捕鲸船上的舷门索制成的，是一位捕鲸船的船长太太送来的。

梅普尔神甫在梯子旁略略地停了一下，双手抓住软梯上的结，以一种水手式的又不失牧师身份的姿势登上了软梯。

让人始料不及的是，梅普尔登上讲坛以后又蹲下身来，不紧不慢地将软梯一节一节地收了起来。

这个举动似乎巩固了他高高在上的地位。

他难道是靠这种肉体上与人们的距离来表示他精神世界的卓尔不群吗？他不是已经因为自己的圣洁和真诚而拥有了超凡脱俗的圣名吗？这种小小的手段实在让人费解。

讲坛上的这软梯并非这讲坛惟一的特点，讲坛上面的墙上，石碑之间还有一副大大的油画，画上一艘大船正迎风破浪、奋勇向前，乌云之间斜射下一缕神秘的阳光，飞溅的泡沫之上显现出一张天使的脸来。

天使的脸使惊风险浪中的大船笼在了温馨的关怀之中“多么壮丽的船啊！”天使这样感叹道。“你快冲吧、起航吧，太阳就要出来了，云开雾散的时刻就在眼前！”

这讲坛此时仿佛成了大船的舵位，上面站着的是威严的船长。前伸的嵌板仿佛扁平的船头，而那本放在斜板上的《圣经》，恰似战舰舰首的铁嘴。

讲坛是人间的领导者，人世间的风雨首先被它发现，它永远面对涛天的巨浪和莫测的深渊，将上帝考验人们的造化化解成抚慰人的和风丽日。

世界就是一只大船，航程没有终点；讲坛便是船头的舵手，永远引着大船向前。

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 a projecting piece of scroll work, fashioned after a ship’s fiddle-headed beak.