The philosopher thought of the history of ancient Rome, and it seemed to him as though the face of the modern Caesar were that of a resuscitated statue of antiquity.
Napoleon now fixed his flashing eyes on the philosopher, who felt that this glance penetrated into the innermost depths of his heart. [The writer heard the account of this meeting with the Emperor Napoleon from the celebrated philosopher himself in 1829. He described in plain, yet soul-stirring words, the profound, overwhelming impression which the appearance of the great emperor had made upon him, and called this meeting with Napoleon one of the most momentous events of his life. The writer, then a young girl, listened at the side of her father with breathless suspense to the narrative which, precisely by its simplicity made so profound an impression upon her, that, carried away by her feelings, she burst into tears. The philosopher smiled, and placed his hand on her head. “Young folks weep with their hearts,” he said, “but we men wept at that time with our heads.” The authoress.]
Seized with awe, Hegel took off his hat and bowed deeply.
The emperor touched his hat smilingly, and thanked him; then he galloped on, followed by the whole brilliant suite of his marshals and generals.
The German philosopher stood still, as if fixed to the ground, and gazed after him musingly and absorbed in solemn reflections.
He himself, the Napoleon of ideas, had yet to win his literary battles in the learned world of Germany.
The emperor, the Napoleon of action, had already won his battles, and Germany lay at his feet. Vanquished, crushed Germany seemed to have undergone her last death-struggle in the battles of Jena and Auerstadt.