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  THE
  PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY;


  IN A
  COURSE OF LECTURES,
  DELIVERED AT VIENNA,
  BY FREDERICK VON SCHLEGEL.


  TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN,
  WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR,
  BY JAMES BURTON ROBERTSON, ESQ.

  IN TWO VOLUMES.
  VOL. I.

  LONDON
  SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET.

  MDCCCXXXV.




  B. BENSLEY, PRINTER.




  MEMOIR
  OF THE LITERARY LIFE
  of
  FREDERICK VON SCHLEGEL.


In the following sketch of the literary life of the late Frederick Von
Schlegel, it is the intention of the writer to take a rapid review of
that author's principal productions, noticing the circumstances out of
which they grew, and the influence they exerted on his age; giving at
the same time a fuller analysis of his political and metaphysical
systems:--an analysis which is useful, nay almost necessary to the
elucidation of very many passages in the work, to which this memoir is
prefixed. Of the inadequacy of his powers to the due execution of such a
task, none can be more fully sensible than the writer himself; but he
trusts that he will experience from the kindness of the reader, an
indulgence proportionate to the difficulty of the undertaking.

In offering to the British public a translation of one of the last
works of one among the most illustrious of German writers, the
Translator is aware, that after the excellent translation which
appeared in 1818 of this author's "History of Literature," and also
after the admirable translation of his brother's "Lectures on
Dramatic Literature," by Mr. Black, his own performance must appear
in a very disadvantageous point of view. But this is a circumstance
which only gives it additional claims to indulgent consideration.

The family of the Schlegels seem to have been peculiarly favoured by
the Muses. Elias Schlegel, a member of this family, was a
distinguished dramatic writer in his own time; and some of his plays
are, I believe, acted in Germany at the present day. Adolphus
Schlegel, the father of the subject of the present biography, was a
minister of the Lutheran church, distinguished for his literary
talents, and particularly for eloquence in the pulpit. His eldest
son, Charles Augustus Schlegel, entered with the Hanoverian regiment
to which he belonged into the service of our East India Company, and
had begun to prosecute with success his studies in Sanscrit
literature--a field of knowledge in which his brothers have since
obtained so much distinction--when his youthful career was unhappily
terminated by the hand of death. Augustus William Schlegel, the
second son, who was destined to carry to so high a pitch the
literary glory of his family, was born at Hanover in 1769--a year so
propitious to the birth of genius. Frederick Schlegel was born at
Hanover in 1772. Though destined for commerce, he received a highly
classical education; and in his sixteenth year prevailed on his
father to allow him to devote himself to the Belles Lettres. After
completing his academical course at Gottingen and Leipzig, he
rejoined his brother, and became associated with him in his literary
labours. He has himself given us the interesting picture of his own
mind at this early period. "In my first youth," says he, "from the
age of seventeen and upwards, the writings of Plato, the Greek
tragedians, and Winkelmann's enthusiastic works, formed the
intellectual world in which I lived, and where I often strove in a
youthful manner, to represent to my soul the ideas and images of
ancient gods and heroes. In the year 1789, I was enabled, for the
first time, to gratify my inclination in that capital so highly
refined by art--Dresden; and I was as much surprised as delighted to
see really before me those antique figures of gods I had so long
desired to behold. Among these I often tarried for hours, especially
in the incomparable collection of Mengs's casts, which were then to
be found, disposed in a state of little order in the Bruehl garden,
where I often let myself be shut up, in order to remain without
interruption. It was not the consummate beauty of form alone, which
satisfied and even exceeded the expectation I had secretly formed;
but it was still more the life--the animation in those Olympic
marbles, which excited my astonishment; for the latter qualities I
had been less able to picture to myself in my solitary musings.
These first indelible impressions were in succeeding years, the
firm, enduring ground-work for my study of classical antiquity."[1]
Here he found the sacred fire, at which his genius lit the torch
destined to blaze through his life with in