Les ruines, ou méditation sur les révolutions des empires

CHAPTER III. / THE PHANTOM.

CHAPTER III.

However, a sound struck my ear; similar to the agitation of a flowing robe, and of a slow-paced walk, on dry and rustling grass. Anxious, I raised my cloak; and, casting a furtive glance in every direction, suddenly to my left, in the mixture of the moon's chiaroscuro, through the columns and ruins of a neighboring temple, it seemed to me that I saw a whitish phantom, enveloped in an immense drapery, such as one paints specters emerging from tombs. I shuddered; and while, agitated, I hesitated to flee or to make certain of the object, the grave accents of a deep voice made me hear this discourse:

"How long will man trouble the heavens with an unjust complaint? How long, by vain clamors, will he accuse fate of his evils? Will his eyes then always be closed to the

light, and his heart to the insinuations of truth and reason? It offers itself everywhere to him, this luminous truth; and he does not see it! The cry of reason strikes his ear; and he does not hear it! Unjust man! if you can for a moment suspend the prestige that fascinates your senses! if your heart is capable of understanding the language of reasoning, interrogate these ruins! Read the lessons they present to you!... And you, witnesses of twenty different centuries, holy temples! venerable tombs! walls formerly glorious, appear in the cause of Nature herself! Come to the tribunal of a sound understanding to testify against an unjust accusation! come to confound the declamations of a false wisdom or a hypocritical piety, and avenge the earth and the heavens from the man who slanders them!"

What is it, this blind fatality, which, without rule and without laws, plays with the fate of mortals? What is this unjust necessity that confuses the outcome of actions, whether of prudence or of folly? In what