Meanwhile as the horses to my carriage were being changed I conceived a wish to visit the tall mountain located near Bronnitsy on which, they say, in ancient times before the advent of the Slavs, I think, there stood a temple famed at the time for the prophesies it issued and to hear which many northern lords used to come. On this spot, it is recounted, where the village of Bronnitsy now stands, was the city of Kholmograd, famous in the ancient history of the north. Now a small church stands on the spot of this celebrated ancient temple.
In ascending the mountain, I imagined myself transported to antiquity, arriving so that I might learn the future from the majestic deity and bring calm to my uncertainty. Divine terror grips my limbs, my chest begins to heave, my gaze goes dull, and the light dims. I hear a voice, like thunder, proclaiming: “Mad man! Why do you wish to discover the mystery that I have obscured from mortals by the impenetrable shield of unknowability? Why, O arrogant one! do you crave to discover that which only eternal thought is able to grasp? Understand that the unknowability of the future is proportional to the fragility of your organism. Understand that bliss known beforehand loses its sweetness owing to overlong anticipation; that the delight of present pleasure, finding the organism’s energy depleted, is unable to produce in the soul as nice a quiver as pleasure receives from a surprise. Know that extinction revealed beforehand robs one of equanimity in an untimely way, poisons the pleasure you would enjoy if you were still ignorant of their termination. What is it that you seek, unreasonable child? My superior wisdom has instilled what is needed in your mind and heart. Consult them on days of sadness and you will find comforters. Consult them on days of rejoicing and you will find a curb on impudent happiness. Return to your home, return to your family; calm your disturbed thoughts; enter into your inner realm, there you will discover my godhead, there you will hear my prophesy.” And the cracking of a strong blow by Perun52 thundering in his domain resounded in the distant valleys.—I came to my senses.—I reached the summit of the mountain and, having spied the church, I raised my arms to the sky. “Lord,” I shouted out, “this is Your temple, this is the temple, they declare, of the true, one God. On this spot, on the spot where You dwell at this moment in time, they say there used to stand a temple of error. But I cannot believe, O! Almighty, that man sent his heartfelt prayer to some being other than to You. Your mighty right hand, invisibly outstretched everywhere, compels even the denier of Your omnipotent will to acknowledge the architect and keeper of Nature. If a mortal in his error names You with strange, unbecoming, and beastly names, his reverence, all the same, flows to You, everlasting, and he quivers before Your might. Jehovah, Jupiter, Brahma; the God of Abraham, God of Moses, God of Confucius, God of Zoroaster, God of Socrates, God of Marcus Aurelius, Christian God, O my God! You are the same everywhere. If in their error mortals seemingly did not reverence You alone, they still worshipped Your incomparable powers, Your inimitable deeds. Your might, felt everywhere and in everything, was everywhere and in everything worshipped. By acknowledging the law of nature as constant, the atheist who renounces You in that very way bears You praise, praising You even more than our hymns. For moved to his inner core by the gracefulness of Your creation he faces it, trembling. “All-Generous Father, You seek a sincere heart and innocent soul; they are everywhere open to Your advent. Descend, Lord, and ensconce Yourself in them.” For several moments I was detached from the objects around me, withdrawing deep into my interior self—My eyes then raised, my gaze directed on the settlements nearby, I pronounced: “These huts are a degradation on the spot where once a great metropolis elevated its walls. Not even the smallest trace of them remains. Reason that so craves convincing and empirical proofs balks at belief in the very story.” And all that we see will pass; all will collapse, all will be dust. But some secret voice declares to me: something will continue to exist alive forever.
In the course of time all sounds will darken,
The brilliance of the sun will go out; nature, worn out
With the frailty of the years, falls
But you in immortal youth will flourish
Steadfast amidst the battle of the elements,
The ruins of matter, the destruction of all the worlds.*53
