A Voyage to the Moon: With Some Account of the Manners and Customs, Science and Philosophy, of the People of Morosofia, and Other LunariansTucker, George
Science
A Voyage to the Moon: With Some Account of the Manners and Customs, Science and Philosophy, of the People of Morosofia, and Other Lunarians
Tucker, George
Science fiction; Space flight to the moon -- Fiction
"In a deep sequestered nook, formed by two spurs of this mountain,
there lived a venerable Hindoo, whom the people of the village called
the Holy Hermit. The favourable accounts I received of his character,
as well as his odd course of life, made me very desirous of becoming
acquainted with him; and, as he was often visited by the villagers, I
found no difficulty in getting a conductor to his cell. His character
for sanctity, together with a venerable beard, might have discouraged
advances towards an acquaintance, if his lively piercing eye, a
countenance expressive of great mildness and kindness of disposition,
and his courteous manners, had not yet more strongly invited it. He
was indeed not averse to society, though he had seemed thus to fly
from it; and was so great a favourite with his neighbours, that his
cell would have been thronged with visiters, but for the difficulty of
the approach to it. As it was, it was seldom resorted to, except for
the purpose of obtaining his opinion and counsel on all the serious
concerns of his neighbours. He prescribed for the sick, and often
provided the medicine they required--expounded the law--adjusted
disputes--made all their little arithmetical calculations--gave them
moral instruction--and, when he could not afford them relief in their
difficulties, he taught them patience, and gave them consolation. He,
in short, united, for the simple people by whom he was surrounded, the
functions of lawyer, physician, schoolmaster, and divine, and richly
merited the reverential respect in which they held him, as well as
their little presents of eggs, fruit, and garden stuff.
"From the first evening that I joined the party which I saw clambering
up the path that led to the Hermit's cell, I found myself strongly
attached to this venerable man, and the more so, from the mystery
which hung around his history. It was agreed that he was not a
Burmese. None deemed to know certainly where he was born, or why he
came thither. His own account was, that he had devoted himself to the
service of God, and in his pilgrimage over the east, had selected this
as a spot particularly favourable to the life of quiet and seclusion
he wished to lead.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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