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Title: Richard Lepsius, a biography
Author: Georg Ebers
Translator: Zoe Dana Underhill
Release date: November 30, 2024 [eBook #74815]
Language: English
Original publication: NYC: William S. Gottsberger
Credits: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RICHARD LEPSIUS, A BIOGRAPHY ***
[Illustration: _Richard Lepsius_]
RICHARD LEPSIUS
A BIOGRAPHY
BY
GEORG EBERS
_TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN_
BY
ZOE DANA UNDERHILL
WITH FRONTISPIECE
--AUTHORIZED EDITION--
NEW YORK
WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER, PUBLISHER
11 MURRAY STREET
1887
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1887
BY WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington
TO DR. JOHANNES DÜMICHEN,
REGULAR PROFESSOR OF THE EGYPTIAN LANGUAGE AND ARCHAEOLOGY AT THE
UNIVERSITY OF STRASBURG.
MY DEAR JOHANNES!
To you shall this biography be dedicated. As the eldest pupil of our
master you have in a certain sense a right to it. From many
conversations with you, and from your letters since his death, I have
seen with what cheerful alacrity you were always prepared to recognize
the great qualities of our Lepsius; and how often, behind your back, has
the departed spoken warmly to me of your enthusiastic and
self-sacrificing devotion to our science.
Accept this offering, then, as a slight countervailing gift for the many
donations which you have bestowed upon me and every Egyptologist.
Imitating the master’s example you have followed him to Egypt, and
there, like him, undertaken the task of disclosing to your colleagues at
home the wealth of unexplored inscriptions in which the temples and
tombs of the Nile valley are still so rich. From hundreds of walls you
have copied the pictorial and hieroglyphic decorations, and made them
accessible for investigation by collecting them in convenient volumes. A
stately row of folios,--yonder they stand and each contains cordial
words which assure me of your faithful remembrance,--bears witness to
your industry, the acuteness of your eye and intellect, and the
precision of your hand. But few know what great sacrifices of comfort,
sleep, health, and your own property, lie hidden within these volumes,
for without assistance worth mentioning, either from the government or
its chiefs, you, relying upon yourself alone, have achieved great
results. You were aided by no firmans to afford you protection, no
powerful patron to assume the cost of publication, no helpful
fellow-traveller, as for years you made your way up the Nile far into
the Sudān. Month after month have you been a self-invited guest of the
god to whom the sanctuary of your choice was dedicated, you have passed
the nights on a hard couch in a chamber of the temple which you desired
to examine, and shared their scanty meal with the Arabs. To me it will
ever be incomprehensible whence you derived the endurance to copy,
through weeks of labor, the inscriptions on the walls of the tomb of
Petuamenapt, the so-called bat sepulchre, while those misshapen
creatures which dread the day extinguished your lights, flapped about
you in swarms, and entangled themselves in that magnificent beard which
procured for you among the Arabs the name of Abu Dakn (Father of the
Beard).
But your endurance has borne admirable fruits. Through you and your
works the inscriptions of the time of Ptolemy, formerly neglected, have
for the first time received due honor. The keys to many mysteries lie
concealed within them, and with what sagacity have you established the
value of the enigmatical signs with which the priests during the Lagid
period knew how to withdraw from the understanding of the multitude the
mysteries to which they gave freer expression than their predecessors of
earlier epochs. Golden Hathor of the beautiful countenance, under whose
protection you spent such long months of privation, has endowed you with
her dearest sanctuary, that of Dendera, entirely for your own, and
Tehuti has aided you to apprehend correctly the fractional reckoning of
the Egyptians, to determine many of their measures, and to make clear
the division of the Egyptian land in ancient time.
It is a delight to offer a gift to such a giver, and if mine, my dear
Johannes, pleases you, I shall be happy.
I have allowed neither diligence nor care to be lacking in its
preparation, but nevertheless I should not have attained the goal which
from the first I have had in view, if the family of the deceased had not
committed to my use, with such great kindness and noble confidence, all
the materials at their disposal. Of the greatest service have been the
diaries of Mrs. Lepsius, her husband’s letters to her, to his parents,
to Bunsen and many others, and the master’s own memoranda in the form of
note-books and diaries, or on scraps of paper and in little books of
poetry, in which are also included the poems of Abeken, the family
friend.
The heads of the school, especially the principal, Professor Volkmann,
as well as Professor Buchbinder, willingly furnished me with such
information as I desired; memoirs and collections of letters already
published helped me to make good many deficiencies, and where I wished
to consult the records of public authorities I have everywhere met with
a courtesy which merits thanks. I owe special acknowledgment for the
many communications, both by letter and word of mouth, which I have
received from the eldest son of the deceased, Professor R. Lepsius of
Darmstadt.
As is natural, the principle materials have been drawn from the works of
the master, and my own vivid memories of his character.
The index to his writings will, I think, be welcome to you and to many
colleagues. To bring it to the perfection which he had desired was a
task attended with many difficulties.
You must yourself judge whether the old adage “a pupil’s praise is
lame,” is applicable to this biography. I am conscious of having handled
my brush with love indeed, but also with all fidelity. On account of the
great abundance of material there was far less need of original research
than of sifting and selecting, and this had to be done with special
pains and prudence in regard to the twenty-seven volumes of Mrs.
Lepsius’ interesting diary.
I hope that you, the master’s eldest pupil, will miss, in this likeness
painted by the hand of friendship, no essential trait of the dead who
was dear to us both, and that you will find that the artist has
introduced into it no more of his own personality than may be permitted
to an historian. He tenders you this book with affection, and knows that
you will receive it in the same spirit from
Your very faithful,
GEORG EBERS.
LEIPSIC, Easter, 1885.
CONTENTS.
PAGE.
PREFACE, 1
BOYHOOD AND APPRENTICESHIP, 3
THE SCHOOL, 5
LEIPSIC, 9
GÖTTINGEN, 18
BERLIN, 40
THE JOURNEYMAN, PARIS, 51
EGYPTOLOGICAL STUDIES, AS LEPSIUS FOUND THEM IN
1834, 69
LEPSIUS IN PARIS AS AN EGYPTOLOGIST, 79
ITALY, 93
HOLLAND, ENGLAND, AND THE SEASON OF WAITING, IN
GERMANY, 123
THE PRUSSIAN EXPEDITION TO EGYPT, UNDER THE DIRECTION
OF LEPSIUS, 140
THE MASTER WORKMAN, 167
THE HOME OF LEPSIUS, 218
RICHARD LEPSIUS AS A MAN, 282
APPENDIX: I. THE GÖTTINGEN INSURRECTION, 301
“ II. LEPSIUS’ REPORT TO THE BERLIN ROYAL
ACADEMY OF SCIENCES ON THE COMMENCEMENT
OF HIS EGYPTOLOGICAL
STUDIES, 308
“ III. EXTRACT FROM THE REPORT ADDRESSED
TO THE MINISTRY, ON THE ACQUISITIONS
AND RESULTS OF THE EXPEDITION
TO EGYPT UNDER R. LEPSIUS, 314
INDEX TO THE WORKS OF R. LEPSIUS, 325
RICHARD LEPSIUS,
the head master of Egyptology, closed his eyes during the past summer,
and his departure has been deeply lamented, not only in our own country,
but among scholars of all lands. The task of portraying his life has
fallen to me, and this task I have willingly assumed, for I am--with the
exception of my dear and excellent friend and colleague, Dümichen of
Strasburg--the oldest of his pupils. Till his latter end an intimate
untroubled friendship united me to the beloved master, the benevolent
promoter of my studies, the colleague, the man who followed with
sympathy my poetical as well as my scientific productions. His family
have assisted me in the kindest manner by placing at my disposal
everything left by the deceased which could possibly aid my purpose.
Diaries, memorandum books, letters of great interest, were submitted to
my inspection, and these abundant materials confirmed my conviction that
the personality of a German scholar has seldom presented so rounded and
happily balanced a whole as that of the man whose life it has devolved
upon me to describe. In him are united all things which can be required
of a scholar in the highest sense of the word, and hence his biographer,
while depicting the development, the individuality, and the vast
activity of the man, can at the same time present to his nation such a
model, such a beautiful type, of the German master of science, as is
worthy of imitation.
In that great community which we call “the cultivated world,” and which
has its home in every civilized land, the name of Richard Lepsius stands
among those which are well known. Everyone within this circle knows,
too, that he was a great Egyptologist. As one holds the diamonds in a
king’s crown for genuine, even if he sees them only from afar, so one
believes in the value and importance of the works of the celebrated
scholar, although one may not even so much as know their titles, and
although it is scarcely granted to one amongst ten thousand to
comprehend them, or even to study them deeply.
The brief obituaries and biographical sketches published in the papers
and periodicals shortly after the death of the great master, could give
but a general idea of his labors, and yet these extended over many
important domains of science, and his strong and firm hand laid the
foundations upon which a long and varied series of future researches can
and must be based.
It will be ours to show, in a way accessible and intelligible to every
educated person, of what nature were the scientific achievements to
which Lepsius owed his high and well-deserved honor and renown, and what
a man the nation lost in him.
GEORG EBERS.
BOYHOOD AND APPRENTICESHIP.
Richard Charles Lepsius was born on the 23d of December, 1810, at
Naumburg on the Saal, a pretty town which rises pleasantly from the
grape-grown foothills of the Thuringian forest. Here he passed his
childhood among circumstances than which none more favorable could have
been imagined for the future scholar and antiquarian.
His father, afterwards President of the provincial court of justice and
Privy Counsellor, was at that time Saxon Finance Procurator for the
whole Thuringian district, and as such one of the leading men of the
place and region. Naumburg is rich in fine buildings of the middle ages,
and Charles Peter Lepsius, the father of young Richard, applied such
leisure as his exacting occupations afforded him to searching out the
history of these venerable monuments. It was he who founded the
Thuringian-Saxon Archæological Society, the seat of which was
subsequently removed to Halle, and the three volumes of his short papers
testify to his zeal and ability as an investigator. He is represented as
a strict and methodical official, of distinguished bearing, as well as
an indefatigable worker; and precisely these qualities fell as a
paternal inheritance to his son, and afterwards constituted the
conditions of his greatness.
Among those remarkable men who have compassed high aims by means of
marked qualities of temperament or of the imaginative faculty, the
maternal influence has usually predominated, while in those cases where
strength and acuteness of intellect have made a man great, the paternal
character has commonly had most weight. A poet like Goethe, a man of
faith like Augustine, a Napoleon Bonaparte, whose imagination
transgressed all limits, owed what was best in them to their mothers;
the mind of a Lepsius, severe, never seeking after uncertainties, but
always inclined to profound research, must be an inheritance from the
father.
Throughout Thuringia and Saxony all who were interested in antiquities
were connected with the archæologists and founders of the society at
Naumburg, the air of the house in which the boy grew up was permeated
with historical and antiquarian interests, and its master early
permitted his son to take part in those occupations which he himself
could only pursue as an amateur, and yet to which his tastes so entirely
inclined. Thus it is easy to understand how the Minister of Finance, as
soon as he recognized the scientific bent of his son, did everything to
further it and to make of his child what he himself, under more
favorable circumstances, might have become: a great investigator to whom
science should be all and everything, the end and aim of existence, in
short, the vocation of life.
THE SCHOOL.
Circumstances facilitated the attainment of this purpose, for in the
immediate vicinity of Naumburg was situated an excellent educational
institution which, at the time when young Lepsius was received among its
pupils, had already long attained that flourishing condition in which it
still rejoices.
Private teachers had given him his first instruction under the direction
of his father, and at Easter, 1823, he was already, as a boy of twelve,
qualified for admission to the school, which begins with the third class
of the Prussian gymnasiums. At that time Ilgen was principal of the
school, but Professor Lange, his tutor, seems to have exerted a stronger
influence than he over the pupils. The latter became principal after the
departure of Lepsius in 1831, but unfortunately died a few months after
assuming office. He is the only one of all his teachers whom Lepsius
especially mentions in the biography attached to his “dissertation” and
it is true that this man exercised a marked influence over his gifted
pupil by his moral fervor, his great learning and spirited
interpretations of the old classic writers.
Professor Koberstein had come to the school three years before Lepsius,
and had introduced new life into the teaching of German. He understood
how to interest the pupils in ancient and mediæval high German, and
after the fashion of Tieck he read German and Shakespearian dramas at
his own house in the evenings to a select circle. How greatly Lepsius
was affected by the instruction of this able pedagogue and scholar may
be seen from the so-called valedictory theme which he was obliged to
compose and hand in before his departure, according to the custom in the
school at that time. This painstaking essay, unusually mature for a lad
of eighteen, handles the following subject, selected by himself: “On the
Influence which must be Exerted on the Tendency of Philology in General,
and Especially of Classic Philology, by the Most Recent Methods of
Treating German Grammar, and the Universal Comparison of Languages
Arising from this and the Wider Knowledge of Sanscrit.” It appears from
the little sketch of his life appended to this essay that Koberstein had
also given Lepsius special instruction in ancient German and Italian.
“The time which I spent with you will ever appear to me the bright spot
of my life here,” writes the pupil, on his departure from the excellent
institution which he long remembered with affection and gratitude.
And he had reason to be grateful to Koberstein, for in the valedictory
theme mentioned above and composed under his auspices we see indicated,
as it were, the path which, after much groping and many essays, the
studies of Lepsius were finally to follow.
With him, as with so many others, a vigorous individuality had, even in
his school-days, exerted a decisive influence upon his subsequent
intellectual tendencies. The elder Lepsius, the antiquarian, and
Koberstein the accomplished linguist, indicated to their son and pupil
from afar the goal for which he afterwards strove, it was reserved for
others to be the guides who should determine and direct him thither.
At Easter, 1829, Lepsius, then seventeen years old, passed the final
examination with the general certificate I., and left the school with a
body invigorated by the merry games of boyhood on the gymnastic-ground
and skating-pond and in the swimming-school, with a mind well prepared
for every study, and a thorough mastery of the old classical languages.
How dear the school had been to him is shown by the following verses,
taken from the farewell poem which he dedicated to it:
“A thousand times I’ve wandered
High on the mount above,
And gazed with quiet rapture
On the valley that I love.
“Beyond, the silver river!
And above, the shining skies!
While, beneath the mountain’s shadow,
What a happy dwelling lies!
“The gray walls seem to beckon,
They summon me to go,
And join the throng that gathers
In the garden there below.
“There many a youthful figure
Weaves the merry game, I wis,
But whence, ah whence, arises
In my heart, this pensive bliss?”
His father who, as president of the provincial court and commissioner
for the examinations previous to matriculation, was a person of
influence with the directors of the school, had desired that in the
final scrutiny the performances of his son should be no more indulgently
judged than those of every other alumnus. After Richard had been honored
with the I., Ilgen wrote to his father in the following reassuring
manner, having first announced the results of the examination: “You must
on no account imagine that you are under obligations to any one. I
assure you for my part that I would have done as I have, even if you
were my worst enemy, and that I have only acted according to my
conscience, as you may hear from Neue and Jacobi.”
It need not be said that young Lepsius was among the most prominent
pupils of the institution. On the king’s birthday, on the third of
August, 1826, the task of composing and delivering a poem in honor of
the festival was imposed upon him. He chose for his subject “Albert of
Babenberge,” and handled it, skilfully enough, in the Nibelungen stanza.
He derived great pleasure, in after days, from poetical composition, and
although he ardently devoted himself to science from the very first, yet
among the poems lying before us many a gay song bears witness to the
vivacity of his youthful spirit.
LEIPSIC.
The elder Lepsius kept most of the letters which his son wrote him from
Leipsic, where he began his studies. They show how earnestly he took
hold of the matter from the start, and how attentively the president of
the court at Naumburg watched not only the practical daily life, but
also the scientific activity of his son. The methodical official wished
to be informed as to the expenditure of every groschen which he allowed
his son, and the accounts accompanying the student’s letters show us how
cheaply it was possible to live in Leipsic some fifty years ago. A good
dinner, with soup, roast, and salad or compote, cost three groschen,
Richard thought the morning coffee too dear at a groschen, the beer at
dinner for fourteen days came to seven groschen, a room at the inn for
one night was three groschen, a pat (half-pound) of butter was two
groschen, three pfennigs. However, the hard-working student seems to
have been absolved from this exact rendering of accounts in the third
term, but it had been of great advantage to him, for it would have been
impossible for him to bring the greatest of his subsequent works to such
a successful issue, or indeed to produce them at all, without the strict
sense of order which he had acquired both by inheritance and training.
For example, after his return from Egypt he was able without the
slightest error to join and fit into their proper places the thousands
of sheets of paper with which he had taken impressions of the
inscriptions. This shows a painstaking exactness in the marking and
numbering of each leaf such as had been practised by no previous
traveller, not even by Champollion and Rosellini, in whose works errors
are by no means rare.
From the first, it was clear to him that he wished to study philology,
but he hesitated for some time as to what course he should pursue
afterwards. He had presented himself at the proper time, but in those
days the professors took things easily. Godfrey Hermann, of whom he had
the highest expectations, only began to lecture after Whitsuntide, “most
of the others, such as Beck, Rost, Nobbe, Weiske, only at the beginning
of June.” The first course of lectures which he attended was Wachsmuth’s
“Universal History.” “I was much pleased,” he writes to his father,
“with his introduction, in which he expressed his views on the
exposition of the general conception, on the division and proper
treatment of history. He has besides an agreeable fluent delivery, and a
very pleasant voice. Yet his public lectures on Roman History, which
followed immediately, were almost more interesting to me. Here his
discourse is perfectly unfettered, because he has already laid his
foundations in the preceding lectures on Universal History. Roman
History is a department to which he has given special attention, and in
the treatment of which he repeatedly differs from those views of
Niebuhr’s which have introduced a new epoch. On this account it is very
interesting to hear him criticise Niebuhr, of whom, however, he speaks
with the greatest respect.”
The philosopher Krug he had imagined as quite a different person and
much younger. He writes to his father of him: “He has the face of an old
philosopher, and it is so beset with solemn wrinkles that at first I
could not reconcile it with the biting satirical wit which one finds in
his writings. His eyes, however, are very brilliant, and they wander
perpetually over the ceiling as if he were unaware of the presence of
auditors, during the quiet almost monotonous, but pointed discourse, in
which he never blunders or hesitates for a syllable.”
From what might be called the more fortuitous selection of the other
courses of lectures which he attended, it is apparent with how little
consciousness of his ultimate goal he began his studies, and he makes
his father the confidant of his indecision. The interesting letter of
the seventh of August, 1829, which we give herewith, shows the young
aspirant for the right path in the best light, and proves that he had
just discerned in the great philologist, Godfrey Hermann, the man in
Leipsic from whom he had most to gain.
Before the end of his first term he writes to his father in this letter:
“It will naturally be far more difficult for me to give you a
satisfactory explanation of my position regarding science, than
regarding practical affairs, since I will not even boast of having
come to fixed views on the subject myself. Indeed I consider it a
main point during the first part of my stay at the University, and
one by no means easily or quickly settled, to come to an
understanding with myself about this, and to take a steady survey
of my whole course in life, but particularly of my studies. For I
feel more and more this important distinction between the school
and the university, that here one is suddenly deprived of all
guidance and special instruction as to the direction which one
should pursue. The many beginnings made at school, without any
definite aim in view, must be either continued or abandoned, either
pursued more zealously or regarded as a side issue, according to
one’s own choice and judgment. On this account, too, I do not
reproach myself that as yet I have no unalterable plan nor perfect
system in my studies, since scarcely anyone could have made such a
decision so quickly, or, were such a hastily formed scheme adopted,
it might lead to a one-sided development which should be most
foreign to philology especially. Altogether, there is no science in
which this question can be more important and at the same time more
difficult, than in ours, since we have no positive series of
lectures to observe, like the lawyers, doctors, and theologians,
but each must choose and trace out his own road over the boundless
field of philology, according to his own powers and individual
character. Now, so far as my purely scientific education is
concerned, from the very beginning two main paths present
themselves, between which most students make a voluntary or
involuntary choice; namely, philology proper and archæology.
Naturally, they are so closely connected that one can never be
entirely divorced from the other, but nevertheless every one
devotes himself more to one than the other. Indeed either of the
two departments alone is sufficiently extensive to demand all the
powers of one person. This distinction between, and this
independence of, the two branches have been most fully illustrated
in our two greatest philologists, Hermann and Böckh, each of whom
has formed his own school, entirely distinct from the other. I
would think it rash and foolish at present to wish to decide in
favor of either, since I know too little of either to make such a
decision from my own conviction and independent judgment. In any
case it is well for me at first, as far as possible, to attach
myself to the school of Hermann, and apply myself entirely to
languages, for an accurate knowledge of languages is an
indispensable foundation in every other branch, and certainly there
can nowhere be found a more accomplished teacher than Hermann, even
if there actually are more learned men, which I will not dispute. I
learn daily to admire more his incomparable clearness and acuteness
in the exercise of the soundest criticism. I listen attentively and
with pleasure to his lectures, and perhaps in time will try to
become a member of his Greek club, which has already trained
eminent philologists and given the first impulse to many learned
works....
“Some time ago Graser[1] was in Leipsic, only in passing through,
but he let himself be persuaded to remain here several days in
order to have the pleasure of seeing Hermann. He went to Hermann’s
lectures regularly, and was quite enthusiastic about him. At six
o’clock he went as a guest to the Greek club, of which he had
previously been an honored member. I too went as a guest. There was
a discussion concerning a paper on several passages from Plato _De
legibus_, and it was not long before Graser broke in, with a
prodigious flood of compliments by way of preface, but with much
learning and great acuteness, and gave his opinion on several of
the passages. Hermann received it very well. Then they fell to
making panegyrics upon each other, and Graser was so inspired by
Hermann’s rejoinders that time after time he exclaimed, with every
gesture of admiration: _Admiror, admiror ingenii tui acumen
praestantissimum, vir illustris, venerande_, and so on, so that the
members were all in a great state of amazement over it. But he
spoke good, fluent Latin, and what he said was very scholarly and
clever. Finally, Hermann made another little eulogium upon him.
These two hours gave me far more pleasure than if I had spent an
evening at the theatre, for it is not every day that one can see
such enthusiasm as was expressed here for Hermann; it was so
genuine, and yet in its whole essence so intelligent and clear.”
This letter, certainly unusually mature and thoughtful for a lad of
eighteen, is followed by many others, from which we may see how
judiciously Lepsius knew how to divide his time, with what diligence he
not only attended lectures, but also twice a day read Greek and Roman
classics with his friend Schweckendieck for hours, and still found time
to practise music, play chess and visit socially, a welcome guest, among
families of good standing in Leipsic. Shortly before the outbreak of the
revolution of July, there was a significant fermentation among the
German students. After the momentous Carlsbad Decrees, and in
consequence of the “Executive Order” carried through by Metternich, the
University was placed under political supervision “for the security of
public order.” Thus it became not only dangerous to take an active share
in the movement for liberty, but even to have any close intercourse with
a fellow-student who was suspected of having taken part in “seditious
intrigues,” and what were not so styled by the wretched oppressors of
political liberty during the supremacy of Metternich’s influence?
How anxious must the Naumburg Landrath have felt when he learned that an
older fellow-student of his son’s, of whom the latter wrote to him with
great warmth, was involved in demagogic alliances in his native city of
Brunswick, at that time a centre of the political dissatisfaction which
was soon to lead to the expulsion of Duke Charles. This singularly
talented man, named Silberschmidt, was ten years older than young
Richard, and had interested him greatly. He had an eventful life behind
him, and was so thoroughly at home in the most diverse departments of
science, that Lepsius described him to his father as a “universal
genius.” In his nine-and-twentieth year he began to study law, had
essayed all possible branches of literature, had been page to the King
of Westphalia in Cassel, huntsman and fencing-master, said he had
studied in Giessen, written a dissertation “On the Immortality of the
Soul,” a book on the art of fencing, many dramas, reviews, etc., and
called himself also the author of a work on chess. Lepsius who, even as
a student, was already an able chess-player, recognized in his
fellow-lodger one of the greatest masters of this noble game, and when
he visited Silberschmidt in his apartment the latter showed him a very
remarkable testimonial. It contained a certificate from the parish of
Ströbeck, in Halberstadt, that it had been beaten at chess by
Silberschmidt. This was subscribed by the local town magistrate, and
stamped with the seal of the parish. The parish in question enjoyed a
wide celebrity on account of its chess playing, in which every peasant
was a master, and in which even the boys had to pass an examination. Old
electoral foundations had endowed the people of Ströbeck with great
privileges and possessions on account of their skill in this game. They
had never been beaten until Silberschmidt had appeared to conquer them.
A Jew from Brunswick had also told Richard’s landlord that his
remarkable new friend was the most famous of all living chess-players.
As he also proved to be “pleasant, and anything but conceited,” and
showed himself “an industrious man of excellent moral principles, and at
the same time always cheerful and interesting in his conversation,”
Richard supposed he could derive nothing but benefit from intercourse
with him. All that he writes to his father of the Brunswicker proves the
brilliant talents of the latter, but also shows that he tried to win his
younger fellow-student by boasting. Silberschmidt had spoken to Lepsius
about his demagogic associations, and as soon as the father had warned
his son against this dangerous man, Richard knew how to withdraw from
the connection with tact and address. Here, as in every similar case,
the youth, scarcely past his boyhood, shows himself entirely submissive
to the superior wisdom of his father, and at the same time he already
evinces the discretion which he afterwards exhibited in every position
in which he was placed during a long life in the midst of the world,
where there could not fail to be conflicts and collisions of every kind.
At the end of the second term at Leipsic he debated with his father
whether he should not exchange the Leipsic University for another, and
in this consultation also we see him weigh the pros and cons with a
clear head and great circumspection. To Leipsic he was attached by many
a good comrade and many a pleasant family, from whom he had received
kindness, and beneath whose roof he had sung and danced and been
treated like a son of the house. Of the academic instructors, Hermann
alone detained him on the Pleisse, and as the latter intended to travel
during the coming summer term, he decided on a change of University. At
first his father had some objection, we can no longer fathom what, to
Göttingen, whither Richard most desired to go. He therefore weighed
Berlin, to which he was particularly attracted by Böeckh, Lachmann, C.
Ritter and Bopp, against Bonn, where he had the highest expectations of
Welcker and Niebuhr. In his last letter from Leipsic the son decides for
the Rhenish University, but during the vacation, which brought him and
his father once more together, he seems to have succeeded in inducing
the latter to accede to his desire to enter the Georgia Augusta, and so
we see him, in the spring of 1830, proceed to Göttingen by way of
Eisenach and Cassel, where he saw Spohr conduct a performance of “The
White Lady.”
GÖTTINGEN.
On the eight of May Lepsius arrived in Göttingen, and found good
lodgings with the tailor, Volkmann, 129 Kurze Street. For fellow-lodger
he had again his friend Schweckendieck of Leipsic, with whom he
continued to work and to read Greek and Latin classics. He took with him
excellent letters of introduction to those professors of whom he
expected most, Otfried Müller, Dissen, and the Grimms, and was thus
received by them in the kindest manner. During the first term he
attended the lectures of Dissen, on Universal Science; of Müller, on
Archaeology and Thucydides; of J. Grimm, on Ancient Law, and of Beneke,
on the Poems of Walter von der Vogelweide.
All that he writes to his father concerning the more illustrious of his
teachers, is interesting enough. It shows us how here in Göttingen, and
especially through listening to and associating with Otfried Müller,
Dissen, and the Grimms, science was revealed to him in a new and clearer
light. We observe, too, how his mind became accustomed to take
cognizance of a subject as a whole, and to its fullest extent, and yet
preserve due regard to details; how he acquired his esthetic ideals, and
how he laid the foundation for those works which were afterwards to make
him famous, not only in philology, but also in history, the history of
art, and mythology.
His first visit was paid to the excellent scholar and sufferer, G. L.
Dissen, the illustrious editor of Pindar, Tibullus and Demosthenes.
“I can give you briefly,” he tells his father, “what I noted down of
Dissen’s views on my return from him. ‘Above all else,’ he said, ‘the
time has come to elevate hermenentics, the advanced science of exegesis,
for the old poets as well as prose writers, to a higher standard. Up to
this time scholars have usually been content to expound the words in
their grammatical connection, and according to their significance in the
dictionary or by the rules of syntax. They have sought to discover the
meaning of detached passages, or perhaps the _nexus sententiarum_. But
they have neither recognized nor expressed in a sufficient manner the
inestimable superiority of the Greek language especially, in the perfect
correspondence between thought and form,--in the possibility of easily
reproducing the least modulation of thought by an appropriate adaptation
of the expression. Nor have they known how to detect the deep technical
design, the economy of words, of poems, of choral songs, which can be
shown everywhere, and which is executed with admirable poetical
perfection, as well as with severe logical art. Yet the superiority of
the ancients consists precisely in this, that in their works they
develop in admirable harmony these two powers, lofty poetic inspiration
in the conception, and clear, penetrating judgment in the execution. It
is just this that separates them from the poesy of to-day, in which one
side is almost always cultivated at the expense of the other. Classic
poetry and the whole of classic literature is not yet, by any means,
valued as it should be, and it is now incumbent upon hermenentics to
instruct us therein, and to exhibit in detail all the treasures of
classical literature to their profoundest depths. Such commentaries as
are at present written upon the ancients usually contain explanations of
isolated words, and matters which often have but a very slight
connection with the text. They consist for the most part of general
remarks on grammar, and are compiled from collectanea. Such dull and
lifeless handiwork should at least be abandoned to those who can attain
no higher standpoint of science; but the higher hermenentics must
proceed from the basis of grammatical knowledge, which is requisite in
every case, to point out in their works the genius and art of the
ancients. A correct understanding of the separate parts can only be
attained by steadily keeping in view the essential order, the
fundamental idea, and it can be proved repeatedly with regard to Hermann
that he has neglected this in his writings and commentaries, or he would
have perceived that often, in a chorus, the notes to strophe and
anti-strophe contradict each other. Pindar especially must be treated in
this way.” Lepsius then describes the law which Dissen thinks he has
found to be observed, in an analogous manner, through all the poems of
Pindar.
“I was also received very cordially,” writes Richard to his father, “by
O. Müller. He is just such a man as I had expected, and that is saying a
great deal; his whole external appearance, even, corresponded amazingly
to the idea which I had formed of him. This morning he depicted himself
most aptly in describing the Greek character. He is at the same time
earnest and vivacious, enthusiastic and calm, imaginative and lucid.
This is, of course, most applicable to the manner in which he expresses
himself in his lectures, yet his whole character is so transparently
manifested in them, especially in the first lectures on the archaeology
of art, that it is safe to draw conclusions thence as to all other
relations. He has besides an almost ideally fine figure, an expressive
countenance which exhibits real humanity, and a distinct, sonorous
voice. His lectures are almost entirely extemporaneous, as far as the
subject permits, enthusiastic, yet calm too, clear and convincing.”
Jacob Grimm he calls a “very kind-hearted, unaffected man. This is
apparent in everything. He is also prodigiously learned in every
possible direction, but yet, it seems, very easily embarrassed in
expressing himself, perhaps because he does not yet feel at home among
the affectations of Göttingen life.” Later he learned to esteem the
brothers Grimm more and more highly, and met with the most cordial
reception in their house. “Eight days ago,” he writes to his father, “I
dined with the Grimms, and I cannot praise the family enough to you. The
whole family are simplicity and affection personified, and it is
especially funny to see these two men forget all their immense learning,
and play with their little Hermann, until the mother really becomes
quite troubled lest he should be spoiled. William, the husband, is still
more agreeable and easy in conversation,” (than Jacob).
In Otfried Müller’s Seminary, to which he, as well as his friends
Schweckendieck and Gravenhorst, was admitted, he reaped an abundant
intellectual harvest, and the Göttingen Philological Society, into which
he had been received as a member, was also of great benefit to him. This
consisted of seven or eight of the best young philologists, elected by
vote, who met once every week (on Tuesdays, at half past seven o’clock).
They began by discussing some critical paper presented by a member,
often in the presence of O. Müller. This was submitted for inspection to
each member, who was free to make remarks upon it, and defend his own
views. The business of the society was then transacted, and finally they
all sat sociably together, engaged in pleasant and serious conversation,
and cosily enjoyed their beer and tobacco, both of which the society was
bound to furnish. Lepsius informs his father that he, who always before
expected to play the _persona muta_, to his astonishment here became a
_homo disputax_, which he did not indeed, in its full sense, exactly
desire, but which still appeared to him a much more interesting role
than that of the _persona muta_.
Upon the whole, Müller, in Göttingen, exerted the deepest and most
lasting influence over him. Thus while, in Leipsic, he had still
hesitated whether he should devote himself to the grammatical or the
archaeological division of philology, he here decided in favor of the
latter, although without entirely losing sight of the former. No other
scholar of that time had such a lofty and far-reaching apprehension of
archaeology as Otfried Müller, and hence we see Lepsius allow himself to
be locked in daily for hours, in order to trace on transparent paper the
copper-plates from all the works which had at that time appeared on the
architecture and plastic art of the ancients. He wished to make their
forms his own, and to retain them in his possession, even if in the
unsatisfactory shape of copies. The architectural pictures thus traced
he afterwards copied at home.
All that Müller had to offer the students, whether in the lecture-room,
in the seminary, or by personal intercourse, was received by Lepsius
with enthusiasm, and at the close of the term, he wrote to his father:
“To-morrow Müller will finish the historical portion of his archaeology,
and thus once more lies fully extended before my vision a new branch of
science, which, if any so deserves, should be called the very flower of
science. It is fostered, too, with such unusual care as none other
receives, and rejoices in such noble foundations as the Institute for
Archaeological Correspondence, which, for two years, has been under the
patronage of our Crown Prince (afterwards Frederick William IV.). The
Central Board of Directors are in Rome, and thence it extends over the
whole of northern Europe, with the co-operation of almost all eminent
scholars and experts. Its results in the various departments of science
are recorded in several languages, and within a few weeks are spread
abroad from Syracuse to Belt, from Paris to Petersburg. So that any one
should indeed be accounted fortunate who is in a position to obtain even
a superficial comprehension of the whole of this immeasurable field,
whose boundaries cannot even be discerned, if we have regard only to the
material yet to be obtained. For even such comprehension will furnish
the means for a more thorough understanding and farther progress.”
To secure these very means, he continued to work hard under O. Müller’s
direction. Yet he could not, at that time, foresee that he himself was
destined, first to enter into close connection with that Archaeological
Institute at Rome of which he writes to his father, and finally to be
chosen one of its directors.
In Göttingen also he was a welcome guest in some of the best professors’
families, and his refined and reticent nature led him, as he wrote to
his father, to prefer social intercourse in pleasant families, and
profitable communion with one or two friends, even to the assemblies of
the Philological Society, where he took little pleasure in the rough
comradeship and the enforced intimacy with many a young fellow with whom
he had really little in common.
Whenever a superior artistic performance was produced, he know how to
profit by it here, as he had done before during his stay in Berlin. When
Paganini came to Göttingen, he and Schweckendieck took a seat together
(it cost a thaler and a half), and he went to the second half of the
concert after his friend had enjoyed the first. “It would be useless,”
he writes, “to try to describe in any way Paganini’s playing. One can
only comprehend the nature and method of such playing while he is
actually playing; afterwards one loses sight of nearly every measuring
scale that could be applied to it, in order to retain it in the
imagination.”
His interest in politics had also been excited by the revolution of
July, and in order to follow political events and changes, he
subscribed, at that time, to the _Hamburg Correspondent_. He prudently
keeps out of the way of the Brunswicker Silberschmidt, who was involved
in “seditious intrigues,” when he meets him again in Göttingen, and
mentions that by his fellow-students, who almost universally called
themselves “Republicans,” he was accounted a Conservative and
aristocrat, on account of his well-known monarchial tendencies.
During a pedestrian tour in the long vacation of 1830, which took him
into the Hartz, to Hanover, etc., he was to become witness of an
historical incident, and soon afterwards, at Göttingen, to be an
onlooker at a revolution.
Unfortunately, the limits of this biography forbid our giving in full
the letters addressed to his father by the active young wanderer through
the Hartz, so susceptible to all that was beautiful or remarkable. We
can only mention here his experiences in and around Brunswick. He had
been invited thither by Gravenhorst, his fellow-student at Göttingen,
whose parents were to be his hosts. His travelling-companions separated
from him at Blankenburg, and he had still nine post-miles to travel
alone. “As I walked on the ‘Faust’ which I had brought with me luckily
occurred to me, and for the rest of the way I occupied myself with
learning some of the scenes by heart, which shortened the road
wonderfully. Meanwhile the Brocken was brewing behind me, soon the whole
range was enveloped in thick mist, and thick rain clouds gathered, which
were driven towards me by a violent wind. It was indeed a splendid sight
as the storm came on, but it inspired me with no very pleasant
anticipations of the time when it should reach me, and now I regularly
began to run a race with the rain, which came more from one side; twice
it actually caught me, another time I could only escape it by hard
running. So it happened that I got over four post-miles in four hours
without once stopping, and I should soon have finished the fifth when a
postilion called to me to ask whether I would not like to ride back with
him to Brunswick in an hour.” The young traveller accepted the offer,
and sat down in the inn to wait for the conveyance. “While I,” he
writes, “sat with a glass of beer at the big oaken table, knapsack and
stick beside me, reading this poem of all poems (Faust), this poem which
unites the heights and depths of human life, conceived and represented
by such a genius, one by one there assembled at this and a neighboring
table some wagoners, a tipsy shopkeeper, and some mechanics, who
entertained themselves after their own fashion, talked politics, railed,
and so formed an incomparable foreground to some of the scenes in Faust.
The events at Brunswick particularly were represented and criticized in
the most glaring and original colors; in short, my Faust played upon a
stage such as could scarcely be found again.”
After this prelude, he was himself to take part, at Brunswick, in the
conclusion of the tragic-comic revolutionary drama which occurred there.
The father of his friend, Gravenhorst, was chief of police, and in the
hospitable house of this man, who had been concerned as an active
participant in all the phases of the expulsion and reinstatement of the
Duke, Lepsius had a good opportunity to obtain an authentic account of
all that had happened.
“Naturally,” writes the young traveller, “the conversation fell chiefly
on present events, which, however, interested me none the less, because
I had long been well acquainted with them, and was now here on the very
spot, besides being in the house of the chief of police, where we
received each of the fresh reports, which crowded in every hour, at
first hand and in the most trustworthy manner. No excess had occurred
beyond the burning of the castle (at the expulsion of the Duke Charles
in 1830), ... but all the lamps had been smashed and several of the
windows. I will copy for you some of the lampoons, of which Gravenhorst
has fifty or sixty, as they all have to be handed in here. You may see
from them the universal feeling against ‘Charley,’ as he is called, the
former Duke. The rage against him was, and still is, indescribable, but
it is completely justified against such a scum of all humanity.
Fortunately (and a sign, too, that the burning of the castle did not
proceed from the mob, which is notorious here), there was rescued from
the fire one chest alone, with private papers and books, amongst which
the black and the blue book are especially noticeable. In one are
recorded all the officials, and beside the names are remarks by the Duke
in his own handwriting, such as ‘dog,’ ‘blockhead,’ ‘must be worried to
death,’ ‘he shall be invited, allow to stand for three hours in the
ante-chamber, and then told it was a mistake,’ ‘he is to be provoked to
a duel until he sends a challenge, then dismissed,[2] etc.’ Beside all
the police officials stood three crosses, beside Gravenhorst and his
brother-in-law, Langerfeldt, four. Gravenhorst’s successor had also
already been decided on. In the other book was the record of the secret
police, and an autograph essay on the best mode of tyrannizing, in which
there are the most abominable things, such as one would not credit if
the majority of the maxims had not been already carried out in detail. I
could repeat a hundred anecdotes of him which are all notorious here,
but are not known abroad; they all show that the Duke, in his miserable,
tyrannical life, was not only a man devoid of all heart, but also
actually without common-sense. By this you may measure the fury with
which all the inhabitants of Brunswick were filled when it came at last
to acts of violence, and the rejoicing with which William,[3] the
brother of the banished Charles, and the last scion of the house, is
received here.”
The reception which was prepared for the new Duke seems indeed to have
been especially cordial. While the deputies delivered the address to the
new prince, Lepsius saw the populace rejoicing and singing the LaFayette
hymn, and Götte,[4] “with all his coarseness, a very droll man,” quietly
submit to the honors which were heaped upon him. “They wanted to go
back to Richmond in crowds, and Götte gave out songs which were to be
sung there. The Duke’s answer to the address was read amid great
rejoicings. Every one was carried away by the happiest hopes of the
future. Then they flocked to Richmond. The Duke was still at dinner.
Permission was requested to sing the song: “Hail to Thee, William.” The
Duke came out with General Hertzberg and several others, and remained
standing during the whole song, which was sung by the crowd to a musical
accompaniment. He then caused several citizens of consideration, who
stood near, to be summoned, conversed graciously with them, etc. The
rejoicing is indescribable, and the Brunswick ladies especially take the
most active part in it all.”
An illumination was announced for the evening, and as Lepsius’ friends,
who were members of the city militia, had to patrol, he also, to his
delight, took a gun over his shoulder, and as an impromptu soldier,
accompanied them through the brightly-lighted streets, unobserved and
unmolested. The main guard, where the patrol finally came to anchor, was
stationed on the old market-place, just opposite to the very
beautifully-illuminated town-hall. Here he first listened to several
remarkable narratives, and then heard them sing the so-called “ballad,”
a satirical poem on the banished Duke Charles. The author himself, a
goldsmith, sang the verses, and the whole chorus joined in the refrain,
“Go ahead slowly!” It sounded very well. The first verse of this song,
which in every respect was very moderate, ran thus:
“For a little while things went ill that day,
For they taught him manners, they taught him right;
They hunted him shamefully far away,
And his flaming castle they gave him for light.
But go ahead slowly, go ahead slowly,
So that we may all hear it well.”
The last stanza greets the new Duke thus:
“And not long after another man came,
That can rule the land far better than he;
So hurrah with me for that man’s name,
That frees us from the yoke of tyranny.
But go ahead slowly, go ahead slowly,
So that we may all hear it well.”
Richard copied off this song of nine stanzas, as well as all the
documents relating to the Duke’s expulsion which he could get possession
of, and sent the copies to his father. He was in the habit of thus
collecting and writing out in his letters all that he thought could
possibly give pleasure to his family in Naumburg. He maintained
throughout his whole life this affectionate endeavor to show his
gratitude to his father and to requite his love with deeds. He wished
him not only to sympathize with his serious labors, but also to
participate in everything amusing which he encountered, and to this
category belonged the following verse, which he found on a sandstone
pillar in the mill-stone quarry at Mansfield:
“If any man doth damage to
This quarry or its products, do,
He shall be punished according to law
And the state of the circumstances.”
During his fourth term (the second at Göttingen), Lepsius attended the
lectures of O. Müller on Grecian Antiquities, Persius and Juvenal; of
Dissen, on the _oratio pro corona_ of Demosthenes; of Heeren, on the
History of the European States, and of Ewald, on the Elements of
Sanscrit. This language, indispensable for the linguist, and whose
importance for the philologist also he had recognized even when at
school, he had wished to study in Leipzig, but had not before been able
to find time for it. He became one of H. Ewald’s most industrious
pupils, though at first only with a view to general comparative
philology, to which he now intended to devote himself with special zeal,
in addition to his archaeological and historical studies. “Ewald,” he
writes, “reads his Sanscrit Grammar in his room before five or six
hearers, a great advantage for us, for he has an extremely low voice,
though at the same time he speaks with extraordinary clearness and
correctness. As I have always taken special interest in general
comparative philology, I am so much the more delighted that Ewald enters
into this largely, and does not always confine himself to Sanscrit. He
by no means adheres strictly to Bopp’s Grammar. A great deal he gives in
a more general way, and many things more briefly, and, as is always the
case in oral teaching, everything more plainly: in Bopp, too, one finds
nothing of comparison with other languages.” When Lepsius wrote these
words, and even after his first meeting with Bopp in Berlin, he did not
foresee that this was the scholar to whom he should afterwards be
indebted for his own method in this very science of comparative
philology.
The winter term, begun with great enthusiasm, was to meet with an
unexpected interruption, for in December, 1830, the noted Göttingen
revolution broke out. Richard, indeed only witnessed it as an impartial
spectator, but it was followed by the closing of the lecture-rooms and
the expulsion of many students. Even Lepsius could only escape this
order with difficulty, under many conditions, and after his patrons and
instructors had interceded for him. He naturally describes the
“Göttingen Revolution” most minutely to his father, and his first letter
on this subject we annex as an appendix to these pages.[5]
During the time that the government prohibited the professors from
lecturing, Lepsius pursued the studies which he had commenced with
undiminished assiduity, and he says in his letters that the closer
personal intercourse with the instructors amply compensated him for the
suspended lectures.
In the following summer term of 1831, his fifth, he attended, and always
with the same enthusiasm, O. Müller’s lectures on Archaeology, on
Grecian Antiquities, and on Tragic Art among the Greeks and its
interpretation of the Homeric Hymns. He continued to follow
Mitscherlich’s exposition of the Pharsalia of Lucan, and pursued
Sanscrit with Ewald. He advanced the study of this important language so
far into the foreground of his scientific labors that he placed himself
in open opposition to the old philological school. This he did in
conjunction with the two friends who, with himself, composed the clover
leaf of Ewald’s auditory. In the spirit of F. A. Wolf, and encouraged by
O. Müller, he wished to become acquainted with ancient humanity, not
only in its entity but also in its development. He was no longer
contented with learning Greek and Latin, and although his admiration was
still excited by Hermann’s rational presentation of the grammar
according to the principles of Kant, the elegance and acuteness of his
criticism, and his original investigations in the domain of metric art,
yet he nevertheless desired to follow his lead no longer, but had turned
his attention to antiquity in its universal and interdependent
evolution. His object was to trace out the origin of the ancient
languages and their relation to each other, and the growth and
blossoming of the art and intellectual life of the ancients. Therefore,
under Ewald’s tuition, he became a Sanscrit scholar and a comparative
linguist, under the guidance of O. Müller, an archaeologist who was also
interested in comparative mythology, and, powerfully influenced by
Heeren and Dahlmann, a historian. If we picture to ourselves the nature
of the scientific aspirations of our friend, and the advances which he
had made, we can only wonder that even at Göttingen he had not already
turned his eyes towards Egypt, where many a branch of the art and
learning of the ancients has its root.
Nevertheless, as we shall see, he was to be led thither by external
circumstances, which at the time, however, coincided with his own
inclinations.
He attended Dahlmann’s course on “Ancient History,” and wrote of him to
his father: “He pleases me extremely; he is just as far from giving a
dry skeleton of the chief events, without grasping history in its higher
significance, as he is from serving up generalities and conclusions
based upon theories instead of facts. An upright mind, and an earnest
nature which must inspire respect, are united in him to the clear
penetrating sagacity which sifts a subject and seizes its essential
points. This makes him as skillful and pre-eminent in scientific
research in the domain of ancient history as he is in the study of the
politics of the most recent times, with which he principally and most
successfully occupies his remaining time. His mode of presenting his
theme is especially distinguished by a perfect command and critical
examination of the very extensive subject-matter, whose most important
periods he understands how to characterize and place in the proper light
in brief yet apposite phrases. His discourse is distinguished by quiet,
clear, singularly fine, indeed classical language, not a word too much
or too little.”
We know no more happy sketch of the excellent Dahlmann as an academical
teacher.
Dissen, whose influence had especially attached Lepsius to classical
philology at Göttingen, had become so ill that he could offer him but
little more. Besides, the pupil had been more and more alienated from
the excellent, but irritable and feeble scholar, by his doctrinary and
over-subtle mode of systematizing. “Unfortunately,” he writes, “Dissen
is not yet at all restored to health; he suffers from excessive weakness
and sleeplessness. As he often feels very lonely and depressed through
the night, he frequently has some of the students with whom he is more
intimately acquainted to sit up with him. He lies on the sofa with his
clothes on and has something read aloud to him, or converses with them,
till now and then he catches a little nap. I shall go there to-day or
to-morrow, and Kreiss, who has offered to do the same, is in great
distress about it, because he inevitably falls asleep about ten o’clock,
even when he is reading aloud. Dissen considers himself sicker now than
he really is, by which he only makes his sickness worse.”
This opinion was mistaken, and was proved to be so by the painful end of
the distinguished scholar.[6]
In the autumn of 1831, at the conclusion of this fruitful summer term,
Lepsius begged his father for permission to follow his best friend,
Kreiss, to his home at Strasburg, in Alsace, and to pass the holidays
there in the house of Kreiss’s parents. Just at this time the court
president had incurred great expenses, yet he was willing to comply with
his son’s wish, if the latter could assure him that he expected to
derive substantial scientific advantages from the proposed journey.
“As I am well acquainted,” runs the answer, “with your present
circumstances of which you write, and how all your expenses accumulate
just at this time, it would be foolish and very wrong of me to expect
from you any considerable sum for a pure pleasure trip. You yourself
make your permission dependent upon your firm conviction that I shall
derive from this trip great, and not trifling, gains for my scientific
as well as for my general education, and indeed on a moderate sum. Of
the former I cannot say so much, since the literary advantages will be
confined to the diligent, and let us hope, more intelligent and
judicious consideration of the treasures of art on the way, and whatever
chance may possibly throw into my hands at the library in Strasburg. But
I cannot overlook the indirect benefit, dependent upon forming the
acquaintance of so many learned men, which must conduce to advancement
in my general culture. For I may well say that this lies no less near to
my heart, and has always done so, than purely philological progress;
indeed, I have always regarded them as quite inseparable, one completing
and sustaining the other. But if I can say of none of my former
excursions that they were mere pleasure trips, from which I derived no
substantial benefit, still less would it be true of this next one, to
which I should address myself with better preparation and more knowledge
than to any previous journey. Besides, I could neither make up for it in
the future, during my final years of study, when my time will be still
more limited, nor could I ever again expect to meet so good an
opportunity.”
Lepsius remained faithful to this desire for general culture throughout
his later years, and it preserved the indefatigable investigator, who
was often obliged to devote the best part of his time and energy to
apparently trivial scientific problems, from becoming, even in the
remotest degree, what is called a closet scholar.
Unfortunately we have before us only the lesser half of the account
which he sent his father of this autumn journey to Strasburg and his
sojourn there. This, however, is sufficient to show with what vigilance
he seized on everything that was noteworthy, what a keen appreciation he
had acquired, under the tuition of O. Müller, for art and all that is
classed under the head of relics of antiquity, and how indefatigably he
searched the libraries for their stores of knowledge. Wherever he went,
too, he considered it especially desirable to make the acquaintance of
eminent men, and to establish relations with them. Of books,
characteristically enough, he took none with him but Müller’s Handbook
of Archaeology and Ewald’s work on Sanscrit. He was an active
pedestrian, but the hard work of the last term was visible on his
originally robust physique, for after he had claimed at Mainz the
hospitality of a cousin of his father’s the latter wrote to the
president of the court at Naumburg: “Moreover, I cannot conceal from you
that friend Richard looks thinner now than he did three years ago.[7]
His pedestrian tour from Göttingen here cannot be to blame, therefore I
have made inquiries of H. Kreiss as to the cause of it, and learned from
him that he (Richard) is in the habit of studying far into the night.
This never answers, and undermines the best constitution; so warn him
against it, for it would be a great pity if with all his talents and the
learning which he has already acquired, he should carry away an infirm
body.”
Lepsius fortunately escaped this danger, in spite of rather increased
than diminished application during the final terms, which were devoted
to the completion of his studies.
The journey to Strasburg also took him through Heidelberg. Here he
sought out those scholars who had inspired him with interest, and
described them to his father in concise and pointed language. Excellent
is the likeness which he sketched of Creuzer, the author of the
“Symbolism and Mythology of Ancient Nations.” This work was at that time
highly esteemed, but was really inaccurate and worthless, in spite of
the pains spent upon it, and an imaginative faculty which was
unfortunately too easily excited. Not in vain had Lepsius enjoyed the
teaching of the author of the “Prologomena to a Scientific Mythology”
(O. Müller). “Dr. Hitzig,” he writes, “we did not find at home. We found
Creuzer, though, whom I had fancied quite a different sort of person; he
left an unpleasant impression upon me, with his peruke and snuff-box. I
could not discover a single intellectual trait in the expression of his
countenance, nothing in his eye, which could have helped me to excuse
his well-known presumptuous and mystifying treatment of mythology. I
found in his character a certain frivolous pedantry, and far too much
self-confidence. We talked of archaeology; he put on great airs, without
manifesting much wisdom; he found fault with O. Müller’s hand-book for
having too much in it!”
BERLIN.
After his return from Strasburg, Lepsius went back to Göttingen, and in
the spring of 1832 he removed thence to Berlin, there to conclude his
studies. The testimonials which he received at his departure did him
the highest honor. Otfried Müller said, that he had attended his
lectures with remarkable diligence, and an unmistakable love for the
subject; that he had participated with “philological intelligence and
talent” in the exercises of the school of philology, and had, in
general, given to that subject “arduous study, guided by scientific
ideas.” Jacob Grimm commended him as having gained a comprehensive
survey of philology, and already acquired much well-grounded knowledge
of that science. Ewald said he had followed his lectures with
praiseworthy diligence and zeal, and had made great progress in the
study of Sanscrit. Dahlmann praised his industry warmly, and added that
Lepsius had also become known to him as making most laudable progress on
the path of scientific and moral culture.
With such testimonials, and thus excellently equipped, he came to Berlin
in the beginning of May, 1832. Here he had the pleasure of again meeting
his friends and fellow-students of Göttingen--Kreiss and Ehrhardt. The
three now clubbed together to keep house.
At first he gave but qualified approval to the leaders of philological
life in Berlin, Boeckh and Lachmann, and even to Bopp. With the latter,
however, in the course of time he entered into closer relations, and
afterwards, in our own presence, called him the founder of his
linguistic method. He had been spoiled at Göttingen by Müller, Dahlmann
and Heeren, who united the most brilliant eloquence to profound and
far-seeing intellects. His reverence for the immortal achievements of
Boeckh had been shaken, first in Leipsic by Hermann, who was always glad
to give a cut at his Berlin colleagues in his lectures,[8] and
afterwards by Dissen. Later, he entirely regained his respect for the
great erudition, the sound criticism, the statesmanlike views, the
excellent method, and the noble character of this rare scholar and man.
Even Schleiermacher did not fully answer his expectations. He only
attended the lectures on the History of German Literature because
Lachman was dreaded as an examiner in this branch of study, and it was
said that he was accustomed to “chaff” those students who were not well
prepared. “He reads very disagreeably, but he gives good things, and
fortunately I had previously formed a still worse idea of him--from the
description of others.” He attended the lectures on the History of Greek
Literature by Boeckh, “and because one really misses the best less among
bad than among good, I miss our Otfried Müller especially in this
course. For I am firmly convinced that Boeckh, although his teacher,
does not by any means approach him. Yet they are, as they are reputed to
be, good lectures. In the afternoons from four to five I hear
Comparative Grammar by Bopp, a lifeless, dull discourse, in which the
arrangement of the material is never clear and workmanlike. In many
fundamental views however, on the formation of the main stem, I have
always been much more of his than of Grimm’s or Müller’s opinion, and on
this account he interests me greatly, although Müller’s lectures on the
History of the Greek and Latin languages were infinitely more copious
and satisfactory than these can ever be. But in his own house Bopp is an
agreeable man, by whose vast and profound learning I hope to benefit
farther.”
This Lepsius did, and to his great advantage, for at that time Bopp,
whose lectures were indeed lifeless and tiresome (we too were among his
pupils), was at the acme of his great activity, and had raised
comparative philology to the rank of a science. We should rather call
him the promoter than, as is commonly done, the father of this branch of
study, which had indeed an existence, although an irregular one, before
his time. His method, which was determinative for subsequent works in
the same field, set aside, as idle pastime, the attractive search for
and comparison of accidental resemblances between the sounds in
different languages, and taught that the common origin of allied idioms
should be sought for in a radical manner by examination of their
grammatical construction.
When Lepsius came to Berlin, Bopp was working with his whole energy on
his imperishable colossal work, the “Comparative Grammar,” and exercised
far greater influence over such well-equipped young scholars as sought
personal acquaintance with him, than through his stiff academic
discourses. Lepsius first learned to thoroughly appreciate him and to
benefit by his exuberant learning after he had entered into intimate
private relations with the master, to whom, as far as comparative
philology is concerned, young Lepsius’ teacher at Göttingen was also
greatly indebted.
From his letters to his father it appears that it was chiefly the lack
of that method of exposition to which he had become accustomed in
Göttingen, and which was in every respect consummate, that led Richard
more than once to undervalue the Berlin professors, and even the
excellent Boeckh. He attended Schleiermacher’s lectures on the “Life of
Jesus,” in order to have heard at least one theological course, and to
learn to know the man. But these lectures too, although for other
reasons, found little favor with him. “Schleiermacher,” he writes,
“gives in his Life of Jesus nothing but negative dialectics, and to me
he is a living contradiction from beginning to end.”
He speaks most unfavorably of the school of philology as it existed at
that time in Berlin, under the management of Boeckh and Lachmann. “A
frightful confusion is the order of the day here, and it is scarcely to
be compared with that at Göttingen. So that it would not have occurred
to me to enter, if in spite of all this they did not think so highly of
it here. They translate Herodotus (in my opinion a very unsuitable
choice for such a school), and the odes of Horace, and hold discussions
over papers which are handed in, and difficult passages which are
propounded.”
In truth the lectures had little more to offer him, for he already stood
firmly upon his own feet, and had learned both how to avail himself of
the works of his instructors and to labor independently in an assured
and methodic manner. Besides, his time was much taken up with his
dissertation for the doctor’s degree. He had found for this a theme as
interesting as it was difficult, and we may be permitted to point out
how he came to select it, and to whom he was indebted for special
assistance in the execution of his task.
First let it be noted that the famous Eugubian Tablets are seven plates
of copper, which were found in 1444 in a subterranean vault
(_concameratio subterranea_), and are now preserved in the town hall of
Gubbio (the _Eugubium_ or _Iguvium_ of the ancients). The inscriptions
with which the tablets are covered are partly based upon the Umbrian and
partly on the Latin language. Where the latter is employed as the
language of the text Latin letters are used, but otherwise the letters
of a peculiar alphabet. These inscriptions are the oldest of all ancient
Italian monuments of language, and with their help it has become
possible to reproduce a good part of the old Umbrian language. Their
contents furnish important disclosures as to the forms of worship and
the sacrificial customs of the heathen Umbrians. The liturgical
fragments make us acquainted with the hymns and liturgies which were to
be recited or sung by the priests. The Saturnian metre and many
alliterations have been found again in them. The old dialect which forms
the basis of the Umbrian inscriptions seems to belong to the fourth
century before Christ.
Bonarota and Lanzi (1789) had given their attention to these tablets,
and they were afterwards treated by O. Müller in his “Etruscans,” and
there for the first time handled in a critical though by no means
exhaustive manner. On the 30th of December, 1831, Lepsius, while yet at
Göttingen, writes to his father: “I have found an excellent subject for
investigation. Müller first drew my attention to it, and if I can make
anything out of it I will perhaps choose it for my doctor’s
dissertation. It is the seven Eugubian Tablets, the sole but important
relic of the Umbrian language. So far, no one understands them, but they
would be of the greatest consequence for the old Italian forms of
worship and sacrificial customs, since it is easy to conjecture that the
inscriptions upon them are sacrificial formulas. Müller has already
attempted to determine the terminations of some of the declensions in
his “Etruscans;” a considerable resemblance to the Latin and also to the
Greek, is unmistakable, and I am convinced that a great deal can yet be
made out, though it would cost much time and labor. With regard to this,
it is of great moment that five of the tablets are in Etruscan
characters, and two in Latin, which gives a clue to the relations of
many of the sounds in Umbrian, especially since there are an
extraordinary number of repititions, and both the Latin tablets, as I
have already discovered, are only the farther continuation of an
Etruscan, so that I have already made out almost all the words of this
Etruscan tablet on those in Latin, and written them over the Latin
words. I have also already discovered two new alphabetical characters
which were known neither to Müller nor the earlier commentators on the
‘Eugubian Tablets.’” Thereupon he gives his father a specimen, in which
he writes the Latin text in black ink and the Etruscan above it in red.
While in Berlin he became more and more deeply absorbed in the Eugubian
Tablets, and from the letters at our disposal it appears that even
before going there he had decided positively to discuss these remarkable
monuments of language in his doctor’s dissertation. A few days after his
arrival on the Spree he appeals to the legal knowledge of his father and
his familiarity with the form of mediaeval contracts, to decide a
question which seems to him of importance for the work on which he is
engaged. In the town hall at Gubbio there was preserved a contract of
sale of the year 1456 which set forth that the city had acquired seven
tablets from the owner, at a high price. Since the contract was
concluded only twelve years after the discovery, it seemed to follow
that no more than seven tablets had been discovered; and as Lepsius now
believed that more than seven tablets had been originally found, he took
the contract for one of those counterfeits which were not uncommon in
Italy. He now wished to know whether any marks of a counterfeit could be
detected in the form, and on this account sent a copy of the contract to
his father.
Amongst the professors of his faculty there was none whose advice
Lepsius wished to ask in this matter, but he received welcome assistance
from a lawyer. This was C. A. K. Klenze, an unusually talented scholar
and noble philanthropist who, besides important works on law, had also
written those excellent philological “Dissertations,” which were
afterwards published by Lachmann. Lepsius had already made the
acquaintance of Klenze in Göttingen, he sought him out in Berlin, and
could soon write to his father: “He handles Oscan subjects as I do
Umbrian. The two are nearly related, and he has had the courtesy to let
me see in manuscript a treatise which is shortly to appear in print, and
to allow me to make use of as much of it as I think best. In return I am
to give him my opinion of his work, which is very flattering for me.”
The arrival in Berlin of the distinguished archaeologist, Gerhard, at
that time Secretary of the great Archaeological Institute at Rome, was
of great advantage to Lepsius, not only with regard to the progress of
his dissertation, but also in many other respects. He met Richard’s
friend, Kreiss, at Professor Steffens’, and told him that on his
(Gerhard’s) way through Göttingen, Otfried Müller had spoken to him of
the Eugubian work of a very promising young scholar, to whom he would
gladly be of service. In consequence of this Lepsius called on him, “and
he,” so Richard writes to Naumburg, “kindly gave me much interesting
information, showed me his drawings, and promised to attend to any
inquiries that I might wish to have made in Gubbio. Of these there were
of course plenty. I wrote them all out in Latin on a sheet of paper, and
as soon as I brought it to him he sent it to Vermiglioli in Perugia,
which is only a few hours distant from Gubbio. I may have an answer in
six weeks. But if they take an entire new transcript of the tables,
which I asked for afterwards, it cannot be so soon.”
The further intercourse which he at this time enjoyed with Gerhard was
afterwards to prove most useful to him. But he could not yet know how
favorable it was also to be for his material prosperity, when he wrote
after a three hours visit to the celebrated archaeologist, just before
the examination, “Truly very precious time just now, and yet well
spent.” In the middle of January, 1833, Gerhard invited him to assist
him in the publication and exposition of his copious collections for the
Archaeological Institute. He also engaged him as assistant on a review
concerning the history of art which he intended to publish in Germany.
Lepsius’ work was to consist mainly in reading over the epigraphic
department of archaeology, and selecting what was noteworthy, which he
would have done at any rate on his own account. He was to put it in
readable shape, and let himself be paid. This prospect of lucrative
literary employment after the close of the examination delighted Lepsius
as much as did the invitation to write short papers for the _Bulletino_
of the Institute, chiefly on Umbrian coins and mythological subjects,
which he could consider as a side-work to the more important work on the
Eugubian Tablets.
What Lepsius showed Gerhard of his dissertation[9] pleased the latter
exceedingly, and after it was finally completed and handed in to the
Faculty it was received by that body also with such commendation and
unqualified approval that it won for the candidate the highest
testimonial. This work, as solid as it is ingenious, is dedicated to his
father, and it soon contributed, more than anything else, to attract the
attention of eminent men to the son, and prove him qualified to continue
the labors of the great decipherer of hieroglyphics, Champollion.
In the prescribed disputation his opponents were the DR. JUR. Goeschen,
the DR. PHIL. Kaempf, and the CAND. PHIL. Gottheiner. In his eleventh
thesis, he honored Godfrey Hermann, his old teacher at Leipsic, by
maintaining that his was the only correct interpretation of the three
hundred and fifty-seventh verse of the Agamemnon of Aeschylus.[10]
On the twenty-third of April his uncle Glaeser wrote to his father, “To
make up for these cares (concerning the practical matters of the
graduation) I have had the greatest pleasure, one of the most delightful
moments of my life, when, after two o’clock, my Richard came home
accompanied by one of his friends and opponents, and I could greet him
as Doctor, and embrace him with the happiest emotions. We sat down
together and drank a bottle of the _very best_. Yesterday evening I gave
him his doctor’s banquet, and we were all as merry as possible together
till two o’clock. Believe me truly, my dearest brother, if Richard, in
addition to his scientific training, had not this practical _savoir
faire_, he would never have made his way so easily and quickly through
this wilderness of cares of all sorts.”
Lepsius had now completed his life as a student, and with the highest
honors which the greatest of the German universities could bestow. He
was a sound philologist, archaeologist, Sanscrit scholar and linguist,
but at no time had he given any thorough study to the Oriental-Semitic
languages, and he had paid no attention whatever to the Hamitic (ancient
Egyptian, Coptic, etc). His neglect of the former was often afterwards
an embarrassment and matter of regret to him; of the latter he became an
expert master after the formal completion of his studies, in consequence
of notable circumstances with which we are about to become acquainted.
THE JOURNEYMAN.
PARIS.
Before the close of the examination Richard had already written
admirable letters to his father, in which he consulted with him, as one
friend would with another, as to what he should do after graduating.
Paris was at that time still esteemed the centre of learning, and to
work for a time in Paris was to give one’s studies the final polish and
to place the crown upon them. Even Lepsius had yet much to gain there,
and therefore we see the father grant his consent that the young doctor
should bring his apprenticeship to a final close upon the Seine.
He arrived in Paris on the fourteenth of July, 1833, a year after the
death of Champollion, the first decipherer of hieroglyphics. The diary
which he kept during his residence there, (in after years he only made
occasional short notes in memorandum books arranged as calendars), as
well as the letters to Bunsen which were kept to the very last fragment,
and the less perfectly preserved letters to his father, all testify to
the zeal, the discretion, the cheerful courage, and the alert attention
with which he made use of his long sojourn in what was then the “focus
of the intellectual life of the world.”
The period spent in Paris had a still more decisive influence upon him
than that at Göttingen. During this time the youth matured into a
settled man; his scientific inclination received a new bias, and its
objects became plainly defined.
Champollion had said, in his introductory lecture, that the science of
archaeology was a beautiful maiden without a dower. This aphorism was at
that time entirely appropriate, yet not only the young scholar himself,
but his father also, knew the wonderful charms of the bride, and every
possible exertion was made by both, to win her for the ardent wooer.
The “court president” in Naumburg was an official of the higher class,
in good standing, with moderate property, and many children,
nevertheless he allowed his highly gifted son the necessary means with
which to remain for a time in Paris and devote himself, free from care,
to his scientific education. But the young investigator felt that he
would not have attained his purpose at the end of the “several months”
which his father had originally contemplated. He did not wish to leave
France or its capital, until he had gained all that was there to be won,
and especially (this he insists upon repeatedly), not until he had
acquired perfect command of the French language. In order to earn the
necessary means for a longer stay he at first thought of translating
into French his vademecum, Otfried Müller’s Handbook of Archaeology,
which, to him, was such a dear and familiar friend. But this undertaking
was not carried out, and he began by giving German lessons to two
renowned scholars. From one of them, Dureau de la Malle, _membre de
l’Institute_, whom he calls a specimen of a dissipated, frivolous
Frenchman, he received five francs an hour, from the excellent De Witte
only four. “He learns more for his four francs than the other for his
five.” Meanwhile the desired opportunity soon presented itself for
earning in a suitable manner the necessary addition to the yearly
allowance from his father. The learned Duc de Luynes, “such a duke as is
seldom seen, a ἀυὴρ καλὸς κἀγαθὸς in the fullest sense, who is also
well-versed in the classical languages,” commissioned Lepsius to
collect for him from the Greek and Latin authors the material which he
needed for his archaeological-philological work. “On the Weapons of the
Ancients.” Lepsius received a handsome monthly salary for this work,
which he could easily manage in addition to his other studies, and he
executed it so entirely to the satisfaction of the duke that the latter
afterwards awarded him special remuneration.
Lepsius was now in such a position that he could conveniently, and
without material anxieties, profit by all that Paris offered in the way
of instruction, and at the same time participate in all the intellectual
pleasures of life in the capital. We see him working indefatigably in
his pleasant apartment, and in his leisure hours enjoying the society of
his friends and playing on his own good piano. He was very musical and
sang well and correctly. The public libraries and museums are at his
disposal, and he makes diligent use of them; private collections are
also opened to him, and he attends the lectures of the most eminent
professors at the university. Those of the great philologist and
archaeologist, Letronne, appear to him particularly attractive, and
among them one especially “On the Ancient History of Egypt.” He praises
these lectures for their great critical acumen and clearness, and
declares that Letronne takes pleasure in contradicting everything not
capable of proof, and in denying all earlier influence of Egypt upon
Greece, (before Psammetik. Twenty-Sixth Dynasty.) Letronne only accepted
what was indisputable of Champollion’s discoveries, and it was he who
especially roused and fostered in Lepsius the distrust which he too bore
towards the great investigator, and which caused him to hesitate about
entertaining Bunsen’s proposition that he should devote himself to
Egyptology.
Alexander von Humboldt, with whom he had become acquainted in Berlin,
had commended him warmly to the celebrated philologist, Hase, and from
him and others he had received excellent introductions. He was highly
esteemed also by the members of the Institute, on account of his
admirable first work. Thus he was enabled to make the acquaintance of
the greatest Orientalists, philologists and archaeologists of France,
and was most cordially received by Silvestre de Sacy, Quatre-Mère de
Quincy, Raynouard, Raoul-Rochette, the Duc de Luynes, etc. He became
intimate with Panofka, and the learned Stahl, secretary of the Asiatic
Society, invited him to drink German beer in his apartment. This man he
calls “a paragon of the learning of the whole world.” “He may be called
greedy in regard to time and knowledge. He sleeps seven hours, cooks his
dinner,--a little rice,--himself, spends almost no time at all on all
the externals of life, such as eating, dressing, shaving, visiting,
etc., and all the moments thus gained he spends in study. He knows a
host of Asiatic languages, Chinese among others, and almost all the
European, is incredibly conversant with the history and geography of all
countries and times, as well as with all literatures, swims and fences
very well, is a sturdy pedestrian, conducts the whole Asiatic
correspondence, etc.” Yet, “this phenomenon of learning” had been in
nowise distinguished at school, and had usually occupied the lowest
places there. A genius he cannot call him, for his power of original
production has suffered from his erudition, and with all his attainments
he has never written any complete work. But Lepsius understood how to
learn from him, and obtained through him an insight into the
construction of Chinese. Stahl’s opinion, that among the Chinese as also
among several uncivilized nations, intellectual conceptions were
developed before sensuous, seems to Lepsius entirely contrary to reason;
and he only apprehends from this that we have become acquainted with the
intellectual culture of the Chinese at a very late, and consequently
intellectually abstract, period.
He seeks to profit by the learning of other Parisian scholars, as well
as by Stahl’s surpassing erudition. Amongst the noted Germans with whom
he associated on the Seine, he names Wagen, the historian of art from
Berlin, Müntz, Himly, Urlichs, the painter Bonterweck, Tix, Dübner,
Stickel, Spach, the Alsatian Lobstein, and the historian Zinkeisen.
He also devoted many precious hours to learning engraving on copper and
lithography. He used his first independent attempt in the art of
engraving on copper, (the central portion of the plan of Paris), to
adorn the sheets of letter paper on which he wrote home to his family,
and on this neat engraving he marked in fine writing the houses which
he most frequented, the museum of the Louvre, the Library, the
Institute, the two restaurants where he usually took his meals, and even
the dwellings of Panofka, Müntz, and Count de Bouge, between whose wife
and himself a charming friendship existed, and whose salon he often
visited on Sunday.
As if he already foresaw at that time to what an extent he would
afterwards have to call upon these reproductive arts for his scientific
work, he wrote, after taking home with him the first lithographic stone
for the purpose of drawing upon it: “There are many advantages in
investigating the technique of every prominent branch of art and
science, even if I do not need to make use of lithography later for my
own inscriptions.”
But this he did, and if the publications which were prepared for him by
this method of reduplication surpass all others in neatness and beauty,
it should be credited to the score of the technical knowledge which he
acquired in Paris.
There, also, he committed to paper his first musical compositions. A
song, written by himself, which he set to music with an accompaniment,
was followed by others, for at that time he everywhere kept up his
proficiency in this art, and particularly while in Paris. Not only the
antiquarian collections, but also the exhibitions of new paintings and
statuary were constantly visited, and, no less frequently, the theatre.
His diary shows with what quick sympathy and keen judgment he listened
to tragedies, comedies, and opera. The representation of French tragedy
is most severely censured. “The performance of Corneille’s Cid was bad
beyond measure, and fearfully French.... The players of to-day, who act
Corneille and Racine, have preserved nothing of the tragic art but the
tragic mask, and this they fasten on behind instead of in front, so as
not to hide their lovely French faces.” The only one who compelled his
unlimited admiration was Mars, who, as an old woman of sixty-eight, at
that time filled the most youthful roles with admirable sweetness and
naiveté. Montrose and Mademoiselle Dupont he also rates very highly. He
bestows the warmest encomiums on the _Cirque Olympique_, conducted by
Loiset. “Here is actual art, not only feats of skill. Painters and
sculptors should come here to study, as Phidias and the Grecian
sculptors did in their gymnasiums. Superb figures are displayed here,
and strength, dexterity, freedom and ease are combined with real beauty
of form, such as one vainly seeks in the ballet. Our ballet has almost
lost rank as an art; the sole laudable exception is Taglioni, whom I
have seen here in the Sylphide, and admired, as I did in Berlin. If any
one wished to fashion a worthy statue of Terpsichore it might perhaps be
possible from Noblet, Foncisy and all the rest of them, to construct a
passable pair of legs: it would only be necessary to take a cast of
Taglioni, and there you would have it in perfection.”
All that is beautiful and remarkable in Paris passes under the vigilant
eye of this indefatigable scholar. He is active as collector, student
and investigator, and during the latter part of the time in a department
of science which had till then been as good as unknown to him. But he is
also busy with both hands and brain in earning meat to go with his
bread, and in producing a new and difficult original work. We see him
attend public festivals, ride out into the country, examine every corner
of the city, give his attention to the industries of the Parisians, go
to parties and salons as a welcome guest, sing and play with friends,
and through all this we can trace the progress of an essay on Sanscrit
palaeography from which was afterwards developed the excellent treatise
on “Palaeography as a Means of Etymological Research.”[11] For this,--an
almost unheard-of honor,--the youth of three and twenty receives the
Volney prize.
He says, at a later period, that Paris was always to him a city rich in
interest, instruction and manifold benefits. During his first sojourn
there it appeared to him “in one respect” (undoubtedly in respect to the
animation and refinement of social life,) “the capital of the world.”
But in spite of his youth Lepsius in no wise allowed himself to be
dazzled by the glittering aspects of French life. It was in the public
libraries that he first became sensible of the drawbacks in the
conditions of the Parisians. “The management of the libraries is
abominable,” he writes, “no zeal, no knowledge, not even good-will.
Miserable officials, lack of everything that is not French. It is true
that I am spoiled by the Göttingen and Berlin libraries, etc.”
Since that time many improvements have been made in these institutions.
The special attention given to them by Lepsius was of use to him as
“Chief Librarian,” in the evening of his life.
From the first he had devoted himself with great ardor to the study of
the French language. But, although he was pleased with his progress, he
did not allow himself to be blinded in this regard either, and, after he
had spent four months in the cultivation of his French style, he wrote,
“A Frenchman only needs to think correctly and truly, and he is sure to
write properly and well; in German a good style is far more difficult,
for there one must know all the deeps and shallows not to steer
crookedly or clumsily, or even run aground. The French language is a
level surface, and one slips along as if skating on ice; the German
language has depths over which it is more dangerous and requires more
skill to steer, but one can go farther on it. When water is deep and
moves rapidly it never freezes, and neither does the boundless sea. So
the German with his language can make the whole world his own; the
Frenchman is restricted to his mirror-like surface. One must cherish
one’s hatred against everything French not to lose one’s own depth. As
soon as one takes pleasure in French things one’s spirit rests on
enervating down feathers. Yet one should always learn, even from one’s
enemies.”
Lepsius took the most lively interest in every event of importance that
occurred during the time of his sojourn in Paris. He devotes a large
space in his diary to the great popular festival, celebrated on the
anniversary of the Revolution, from the twenty-seventh to the
twenty-ninth of July, 1843, and to the unveiling of the statue of
Napoleon on the Vendôme column. This took place on the second day of the
grand festival. The statue was enveloped in a green cloth, besprinkled
with stars. “The impression made by the unveiling,” he writes, (and we
gladly make room here for the account, both for its own sake and as a
specimen of the German style of young Lepsius,) “the impression,
especially amidst these surroundings, was very striking. Above this
seething mass, these convulsions of a struggling mob, this shouting and
quarrelling, this motley throng, this glittering of military display,
there suddenly appeared, not like a rock in the sea, (to which possibly
the column might have been compared,) but like a supernatural power, the
calm, majestic presence of Napoleon. What can produce a greater
impression than the power of a mind which manifests itself in a composed
bearing and a commanding expression, face to face with the unruly
passions of similar human spirits?”
In these words he presents to us the ideal of his life, and we shall see
how well he himself ever succeeded in preserving such a commanding
attitude towards unruly passions. “This expression of command,” he
continues, “is still grander than the great yet inanimate nature, which
is sometimes admired in contrast with nature, or even humanity, in a
state of excitement. A like impression, too, was unconsciously depicted
on every face, and a general shout, ‘Vive l’Empereur! Vive Napoleon!’
burst from the innumerable throng, which really seemed for a moment
entirely to forget the oppressive present. For one moment every
lineament expressed admiration, pleasure, satisfaction.” Then he
describes how Louis Philippe conducted the review, and continues,
“However, not the least enthusiasm was manifested for him, which, in my
opinion, is mainly owing to his personality. His external appearance
presents nothing that is at all imposing, nothing attractive; no
intellectual power of any sort is expressed in his figure or his face;
he impresses you as a stout citizen, returning thanks for the great
honor which is done him. And yet here in France, if anywhere, at least a
semblance of intrinsic greatness is needed for the eyes of the people,
since the mystic vail of royal greatness has so entirely fallen from the
head of the citizen king. As the king rode past one only heard a clamor,
such as springs from gratified curiosity.” From this festival, as
Lepsius describes it, can be inferred the historical events which must
of necessity occur later: the expulsion of Louis Philippe and the
acclamation of a Napoleon to the French throne.
With the appearance of the citizen king Lepsius’ exalted frame of mind
is dissipated, and he tries to fix the note which he can designate as
prevalent in the general din. With the aid of the interval between the
lowest note of his own voice and the sound which formed the key-note of
the clamor, he found it to be the treble _e_. Thus does the spirit of
research ever demand her due of him. The linguist everywhere scrutinizes
the value and significance of sounds and tones. He does not disdain to
amuse himself with them occasionally, and to determine the relation
between them and other perceptions of the senses. “_O_,” he writes at
one time in his diary, “seems to me brown, _a_, light blue, _e_,
colorless, a clear faint color, _i_, bright yellow.” At that time, while
writing his essay on Sanscrit palaeography, he thought he discerned that
in all languages the vowels had formed themselves by degrees, like
colors, from the _a_, but that originally there had been no distinction
between vowels and consonants. The words, he thought, had been divided
according to their sounds, in such a way that each consonant with the
vowel which followed it constituted an inseparable whole. Hence in
Sanscrit _a_ originally was even considered as a consonant, or rather as
_a_ combination of the Greek _Spiritus lenis_ and the _a_ which
necessarily followed it.
In Paris Lepsius is at first a linguist solely, and does not concern
himself with Egyptological studies. But by the end of October, through
Panofka, he is first invited to come to Italy in the name of Gerhard,
who had kept him in mind since their meeting in Berlin, and then he
receives a letter from the Alsatian Lobstein, who had met him in Paris,
and who has been authorized by Bunsen and also by Kellermann to make him
a serious proposition to come to Rome. There he is first to busy
himself with a collection of Umbrian, Oscan, and Etruscan inscriptions,
for which his dissertation would seem especially to qualify him, and
secondly to devote himself seriously to the study of the writing and
language of the ancient Egyptians. The first proposal is entirely
acceptable to him from the beginning, although it is only for the sake
of completeness that he will include in his _corpus inscriptionem_ the
Etruscan inscriptions, on the deciphering of which “many a man may yet
wear out his teeth.” The second proposition, on the contrary, causes him
the most serious deliberation. It is true that Gerhard, through whom he
had been most warmly commended to Bunsen, had already in Berlin urged
him to the study of hieroglyphics, and had assured him that he should
himself undertake it if he were but younger. It is also true that he
felt his own powers had now become fit to cope with the greatest
difficulties, but yet it seemed to him advisable to await the appearance
of Champollion’s grammar, in order to learn how the matter actually
stood. He could thence gather and decide whether the foundations had
been so well laid that by rational and scientific investigation he
should really be able to accomplish something substantial on a field
which, with the exception of Champollion himself, had up to that time
been almost exclusively occupied by bunglers and incompetent dilettanti.
The prudence with which the youth of three and twenty proceeded in this
important question of his life, is most remarkable. In the letters which
he addressed to his father, in order to obtain his advice, he sets
forth clearly and exhaustively all the reasons on both sides. Bunsen,
from whom these proposals emanate, is a person of great influence, and
if he, Lepsius, finds Champollion’s preparatory work satisfactory, and
it is possible to realize his patron’s plan of finally entrusting him
with the direction of the fine Egyptian collection at Berlin, there then
opens before him the prospect of an assured future, as far as the
material circumstances of life are concerned. This it is usually far
more difficult for an archaeologist and philologist to secure than for a
grammarian and teacher. He would not be content, he writes, to gain his
livelihood by book-writing. He had already written to his father from
Berlin, March thirteenth, 1833, “I do not know whether I should have any
special talent for the profession of teaching, since I have never yet
tried it, and even if I should adopt it, from inclination, and with the
expectation of finding contentment in it, yet, in truth, it is not a
great career.” If he can hope, (thus he continues to write to his
father, after Bunsen’s invitation,) to find in Egyptology a satisfactory
field for research, and if Bunsen can give him in advance the most
positive prospect of the patronage of the Prussian government, and the
hope of afterwards obtaining an appointment in the fine Egyptian
collection at Berlin, then he will decide to go to Rome, and to turn his
studies in the new direction which Bunsen desires; but otherwise not.
His father could only assent to his doubts and deliberations, and so, on
December twelfth, 1833, the son wrote to Bunsen the following letter,
which was to give both to his studies and his life a tendency so
peculiarly propitious for his character and talents.
“The kind confidence which, judging by an invitation lately sent me
through H. Lobstein, you appear to feel in my abilities, has aroused in
me no less pleasure than serious doubts as to how far I may myself
confide in my own powers. I in no wise mistake the importance of these
doubts, especially at my age and in my circumstances. How I shall solve
the problem of life depends chiefly on their right or wrong solution,
and therefore, as long as they are still unsettled, every impulse from
without is of infinite moment to the whole inner life and aspiration.
You could neither be aware of the soil on which your words, perhaps but
carelessly meant, had fallen, nor still less of the connection in which
they stand with my own inclinations and mental tendency. It is not as if
I had previously entertained the idea of attempting the deciphering of
hieroglyphics; rather, till now, I have been chiefly attracted towards
archaeology and general comparative philology, upon the broader field of
that science to which, in any case I had resolved to devote myself.
Although these did not give me much prospect of an assured livelihood
for the future, yet I wished to prosecute the two studies together in
Paris, because they have so many points in common, and indeed seem to me
in their essential substance to form a more perfect whole. Then latterly
I was led by chance to a subject which attracted me more the farther I
pursued it, and at last prompted me to collect the results in a short
treatise which I am about to have published in Berlin. This treatise is
immediately concerned with palaeographic researches into Sanscrit
writing, but I was soon led from the peculiarities of this writing,
which in many respects is wonderfully consonant with nature, to more
universal palaeographic laws. I found myself forced at last, by the
subject itself, to express my views on the organic and essentially
necessary connection between writing and language considered in their
broadest relation, and on the value of a scientific palaeography in the
investigation of language. Indeed, I could not refrain, at the close,
from referring to Egypt itself, where there seems to open such a
splendid and fertile field for this new science as never before in
Europe, or even in Asia. Thus, on one hand, I am attracted by the idea
of an Egyptian palaeography which cannot possibly be sought for except
in accordance with the universal laws of writing and language, and
therefore must be capable of rational scientific treatment. Yet, on the
other hand, I cannot avoid noticing the special obstacles, of other than
a scientific kind, which present themselves, and particularly the
precarious direction which might be permanently given to my studies by
an over-hasty decision. It is true that on this path also archaeology
and comparative philology would be the guides and companions whom I
should most desire. But in their Egyptian costume they would probably be
still less able to secure me a settled position in life, than in their
Greek and Roman dress, unless, in that case, I might consider myself
assured of substantial assistance from the government, and of a
situation in the public service in case I succeeded in fulfilling all
reasonable expectations. But if this were possible, and, above all, if I
had become convinced by examination of the authorities hitherto
accessible, and especially of Champollion’s grammar, that the
foundations had been so laid as to give hope of greater results to be
attained by conscientious and scientific treatment, then I would gladly
devote all my ability, time and energy to a subject, the advancement of
which may rightly lay claim to the most universal interest, although the
handling of it at present can only fall to the lot of a favored few.”
Bunsen sent an encouraging answer to this letter, which, like the diary
and the letters to Father Lepsius, did not deviate by one hair’s breadth
from the true circumstances and inclination of the writer. After the
young philologist and archaeologist had satisfied himself that new
researches might indeed be profitably based upon the preparatory work of
Champollion, and that great results could perhaps be attained in the
field of science thrown open by him, he decided thenceforth to devote
himself with all his energy to the study of Egyptology.
It is now time for us to cast a glance at this new science, and to point
out how far it had progressed, at the time when Lepsius first commenced
to devote himself to it and to continue the labors of Champollion, who
had died shortly before his arrival in Paris.
EGYPTOLOGICAL STUDIES,
AS LEPSIUS FOUND THEM IN 1834.
For nearly fifteen hundred years all direct knowledge of the
hieroglyphic writing of the ancient Egyptians had been lost, and nothing
more was known of the monuments of the time of the Pharaohs than was
incidentally mentioned by classic authors, or travellers who had visited
the Orient. It is true that in Rome and Constantinople stood obelisks
which had been transported to the imperial residences from the temples
of the Nile, while mummies and smaller Egyptian relics were preserved as
curiosities in the libraries and museums of Europe. But the interest in
the life of the ancient Egyptians, as well as in their art and science,
which had enjoyed such a high degree of esteem amongst the Greeks, had
been lost. And although, after the prime of the humanities had faded, an
Athanasius Kircher,[12] and after him other scholars such as the Dane
Zoega or Barthélemy, ventured to attempt the deciphering of the
inscriptions with which the Roman obelisks were covered, yet they were
soon forced to desist from their fruitless endeavors, for want of any
fixed basis from which they might have prosecuted their difficult
operations with success. Then the First Consul of the French Republic,
General Napoleon Bonaparte, undertook that adventurous march into Egypt
by which he hoped to break up English influence on African soil, to cut
off the nearest route to India from the British armies, and also to
gather laurels for himself. “For,” he had said, “the greatest glory in
the world is only to be won in the Orient.”
Every one knows the course of this campaign, which indeed ended in favor
of England, but brought far greater fame to France than to her opponent.
History does not forget such battles as that beneath the pyramids, and
in the annals of science a place of honor will ever be accorded to the
intellectual achievements of the French scholars who, during the end of
the previous and the beginning of our own century, followed the French
armies amidst a thousand hardships, dangers, and adverse circumstances.
It was by means of this expedition that the life of the old Egyptians
was to celebrate its resurrection. No one in Europe had suspected what a
wealth of monuments of the time of the Pharaohs had been preserved upon
the Nile. People watched with astonishment the arrival in Paris of great
folios full of superb drawings in which these were depicted, and
numerous volumes containing the descriptions of them. Excellent
reproductions of both afterwards found their way all over the world.
In 1799, in the course of excavations at the fort of St. Julienne at
Rosetta, in the northern Delta, the French officer of engineers,
Boussard, had found the remarkable tablet which was to become so famous
under the name of the Rosetta stone. The fortunes of war carried this
one monument alone, not to Paris, but to London, where it is worthily
conserved in the British Museum. It contains a sacerdotal decree, which
awards high honors to the fifth Ptolemy, Epiphanes, for his great worth,
and the benefits which he conferred on the country. It is written in
three different characters and languages.
Let us imagine, instead of the Egypt of that period, an Italian province
of the Austrian monarchy, and let us suppose that the clergy of the
place had drawn up a decree in honor of the imperial house; this might
perhaps be published in the old ecclesiastical language, Latin, in
Italian, and in the German language of the ruling house and its
officials. Precisely thus was the decree of Rosetta written; first in
the sacred language of the church, habitually rendered in the ancient
hieroglyphic character, and only employed in ecclesiastical writings,
next in the dialect current among the people, the demotic, which was
recorded in a special abbreviated character in which the original form
of the hieroglyphics is no longer to be recognized, and finally in the
Greek language and character of the Lagid ruling house and its
functionaries. Thus the Rosetta stone offered for investigation three
tolerably long texts, the first two of which had for foundation a
dialect of the ancient Egyptian language. These were in the two kinds of
writing, the distinction between which had already been noted by the
Greeks, (Herodotus, Diodorus, Clemens of Alexandria, etc.) and beneath
them stood the Greek translation. In a special treatise,[13] to which
the reader is referred, we have endeavored to show how two scholars,
working independently, arrived simultaneously at the same result of
correctly deciphering the principal hieroglyphic groups by a comparison
of the names of the Ptolemy, of Cleopatra and of Alexander,[14] which
were distinguished by being enclosed within elliptical ovals
(cartouches), and appeared on the bi-lingual tablet in both hieroglyphic
and Greek text. These two scholars were the gifted Frenchman,
Champollion, and the Englishman, Thomas Young, an investigator of the
first rank, whom difficulties served only to allure, and whose labors in
the domain of physiology and optics would have assured him an immortal
name. But Young arrived at results which were inaccurate in detail,
chiefly by means of mechanical and arithmetical comparison, and then
pursued his acquisitions no further, while Champollion applied all the
energies of his lifetime to the prosecution and development of his
epoch-making discovery. For this reason we ascribe it to him more
willingly and with greater justice than to Thomas Young, who, however,
undoubtedly presented his conclusions a little in advance of
Champollion. Each had arrived at his results quite independently of the
other, but, from the first, Champollion’s were the more correct, and
what with Young remained a splendid but incomplete exploit of the most
magnificent sagacity, was by the Frenchman prosecuted in the most
brilliant manner, and reduced to a correct system which, taken as a
whole, is still valid at the present day. The great master-pieces of
Champollion, the _Grammaire égyptienne_, (1836-41), and the
_Dictionnaire égyptien en écriture hiéroglyphique_, (1842-44), were
first published after his death (1832), and subsequently to Lepsius’
sojourn in Paris. They give an idea of the profound insight into the
ancient Egyptian language which had been attained by this scholar who
died so young. Had Fate granted him a longer life his great works would
have gained immensely in value, for his brother, Champollion-Figeac, who
had undertaken to edit a portion of the manuscripts[15] of the deceased,
which filled two thousand pages, although he fulfilled the task
conscientiously and gladly, was yet obliged to take in hand much that
was only half completed, and did not prove entirely equal to the
undertaking.
It is true that François Champollion, in his _Précis du système
hiéroglyphique des anciens Égyptiens_, (Paris, 1824), had presented a
scheme of the hieroglyphic system of writing which, in its general
features, was correct. But this work, though extraordinary for that
time, was somewhat of the nature of a sketch, and criticism could find
in it sufficient grounds for entertaining sundry doubts and scruples.
Other scholars especially, who likewise styled themselves
Egyptologists, attacked the system of Champollion, and brought forward
other systems of their own in opposition to it. Amongst these guides to
the labyrinth, whose errors have long since been refuted and lapsed into
utter forgetfulness, Seyffarth of Leipsic lifted his voice most loudly.
Sickler, also, wished to explain the hieroglyphics by paranomasia. He
maintained that each one was intended to represent a whole series of
words of similar sound. Klaproth adhered firmly to his acrological
system, according to which each hieroglyphic could express all those
Coptic words that begin with the same sound with which the name of the
hieroglyphic begins.
What was a critically trained linguist to think of a science which had
not yet positively decided how to read or explain the characters of that
writing, which it was incumbent upon it to interpret, and which could
not even declare, with the concurrence of all its collaborators, what
language was the basis of the text which it nevertheless sought to
translate and expound?
It is difficult to understand how, after the appearance of the _Précis
du système hiéroglyphique_, these card-houses could have stood their
ground for a single month beside the well-founded edifice of
Champollion. But the more dubious the condition of affairs was with the
authors of these false systems, the louder did they raise their voices,
while Champollion, without regarding them, worked on with admirable
tranquillity, and added stone after stone to his great construction. The
principal parts of this he completed, but he was destined to bequeath
it to posterity without roof or ornaments.
At the time when Lepsius was invited to make the investigation of the
ancient Egyptian the occupation of his life, he had heard as much in
favor of Seyffarth, Klaproth and Sickler as of Champollion. From the
beginning he placed greater confidence in the latter. Yet he did well to
inform himself exactly as to the true state of Egyptology at that time
before placing at its disposal his energy, his ability, and his time. He
was of too prudent a disposition to embark for the journey through life
on a paper boat.
A deeper insight into the system of Champollion reassured him, and soon
led him to a decision. He might undertake the work with favorable
expectations, for Lepsius could feel himself far superior in
thoroughness of preparation and synthetic acumen to those intellectual
imitators of the giant Champollion, who, even during his lifetime, had
ventured forth with their own works. We shall have to tell with what
blunt sickles they destroyed the grain which they thought to reap.
Destiny had forbidden the master to train up worthy disciples, for after
the first professorship of Egyptology in the University of Paris had
been conferred upon him, and when he had scarcely entered on his office
as a teacher, the fine vigorous man of forty-one was overtaken by death.
Prior to this, however, he had already found disciples in Salvolini and
Rosellini. The latter had followed him to Rome, Turin and Naples, after
having taught at Pisa as Professor of Oriental Languages. The
extraordinary talent of E. de Rougé was developed later. Birch in London
and Leemans in Leyden were indeed his contemporaries, but should be
called his successors, not his pupils, and published their first
Egyptological works after his death, and after Lepsius had decided in
favor of this science.
When our friend entered the arena of Egyptological research the nature
of the demotic writing was as yet entirely undetermined, for although
the greatest Orientalist of this century, Silvestre de Sacy, had
addressed his attention to the demotic portion of the Rosetta stone, and
it had been examined not only by Thomas Young, but also by the sagacious
Swede, Åkerblad, neither they nor Champollion had been able to come to
any satisfactory understanding of it. Lepsius, also did little towards a
more thorough comprehension of the nature of the demotic dialect and
writing. It was H. Brugsch and E. Revillout who first discovered the
significance of the demotic, and proved the importance of this “writing
and language of the people” as a middle term between ancient Egyptian
and Coptic.
As far as this, (the Coptic), is concerned, it was the language used by
the Egyptians in speaking and writing, after the introduction of
Christianity into Egypt. It was written in Greek letters, with some
additional alphabetical characters for sounds which the Hellenic
alphabet would not reproduce. It represents the most recent dialect of
the Egyptians, replete with many borrowed and alien words from the
Greek, and it succeeded the demotic as this sprang from the ancient
Egyptian language which was written in hieroglyphics. As we possess many
of the Scriptural books in Coptic translations, and more recent Coptic
manuscripts with an Arabic version in the margin, it is scarcely less
intelligible for us than Greek and Arabic themselves. The church of the
monophysitic Coptic Christians on the Nile employs it to-day in the
liturgies according to which divine worship is conducted. The founder of
a scientific knowledge of the Coptic language in Europe was the same
Athanasius Kircher who attempted the deciphering of hieroglyphics
without success. To him we are, however, indebted for the first Coptic
vocabularies and essays at grammar, (these were taken from the Arabic,
and written in Latin.)
A succession of European scholars afterwards extended and perfected his
work, which, although fundamental, was full of defects and errors. When
Lepsius began the study of Coptic it had already been treated by
Lacroze, Wilkins, Scholz, Woide, Tuki, Quatremère, and Zoega, in part
grammatically, and in part lexicographically. Peyron’s lexicon was also
approaching completion.
No one had yet ventured to assign this language its proper scientific
philological rank. Its three dialects had long been known, and not only
Champollion, but Seyffarth also, had made use of them in the
interpretation of the most ancient hieroglyphic words.
There was no lack of Coptic manuscripts and books[16] in Paris, but
there was a very obvious want of old Egyptian hieroglyphic writings,
well published. The inscriptions[17] reproduced in the great
_Description de l’Égypte_, had been copied previous to the deciphering
of hieroglyphics. They had been transcribed at random, without accuracy
or intelligence, and were useless for the philologist. Rosellini’s work
on monuments[18] was prepared as the combined result of the expedition
sent to Egypt by France, under Champollion, and that sent by Tuscany
under Rosellini. The publication of it had scarcely been commenced when
Lepsius obeyed the summons of Bunsen. The same is true of Champollion’s
_Monuments de l’Égypte_, etc.
In the following pages we shall have to show all that had been achieved
by Egyptological research in the provinces of history and mythology, and
what Lepsius found there, both to clear away, and to build up.
LEPSIUS IN PARIS AS AN EGYPTOLOGIST.
From the very first Lepsius devoted himself with ardent zeal and
indefatigable industry to Egyptological studies. Before us lie the
letters which he addressed at that time to his new patron and subsequent
friend, Bunsen. They show with what benevolent, indeed fatherly,
sympathy, the famous scholar and statesman watched the progress of his
protégé in the field to which he had invited and introduced him; what
pains he took to smooth the way for him both by word and deed, and how
perfect was the understanding with which he followed the scientific
efforts and achievements of the new Egyptologist. Bunsen also exerted
himself to assure the pecuniary position of the young scholar; but as
the emperor above the senate, so did Alexander von Humboldt stand above
Bunsen. Where the influence of the latter proved insufficient, and his
good wishes could not be carried into effect, it became necessary to
appeal to the power and benevolence of the man of world-wide fame, who
was always ready for vigorous action when it was a question of
furthering important scientific endeavors, or helping promising and able
young scholars. As Lepsius in the first place was infinitely indebted to
Bunsen, so was he in the second instance to A. von Humboldt. It is
singular how many of the later German masters of science, besides our
friend, were aided by this great and truly humane man as by a
Providence. He removed obstacles from their path, built bridges for
them, and opened to them portals which no other hand than his was in a
position to unfold.
From the letters to Bunsen we learn that Lepsius at first was absorbed
in Coptic, and, as might have been expected, as a comparative
philologist. At the beginning he was discouraged by the entire
linguistic isolation in which this interesting idiom stood, but he soon
thought to detect a certain fundamental relationship between it and the
Indo-Germanic and Semitic families of languages. On the twentieth of
January, 1835, he already invited Bunsen to consider with him, in a
quite superficial and cursory manner, the affixes of the _pronomen
personale_, in Coptic and Hebrew, and the relationship of the two
formations.[19]
He next exerted himself to place before the public a specimen of Coptic
grammar. He wished to begin by publishing a comparative division, which
should be chiefly based upon the pronominal stems, and should establish
the basis upon which the Coptic language had developed. It was further
intended to show what position this should hold among the better known
tongues. He had taken the bull by the horns, and was soon to find that
little could be accomplished by giving prominence to such similarity in
the terminal suffixes as struck the eye, or by the comparison of
Indo-Germanic and Semitic numeral words with the Egyptian, between
which also many conformities existed.
As the first results of these new studies there appeared two papers on
the alphabet and numerical words, which were submitted to the Berlin
Academy in 1835, and were printed at the press of that learned
institution. The apothegm, that even the loftiest speculation only
teaches us to comprehend what is already in existence, occurs in the
first of these papers.[20]
By means of this treatise the knowledge of the true principles of the
most ancient alphabetical order was advanced by a long step, and what
was new therein was combined with the most thorough regard for all that
had been previously attained.
In the second treatise[21] he considerably extended previous
investigations, and at the same time imposed upon himself voluntary
restrictions which offer the most favorable testimony to his early
acquired method and critical rigor. He would have been able to arrive at
still more important results with the present knowledge of ancient
Egyptian numerical words, and the numerical signs in hieratic and
demotic.
He never followed up “the manifest connection between the Semitic and
the Egyptian-demotic alphabet” which he then thought to have discovered.
We entertain no doubt that during his apprenticeship he took certain
Parisian hieratic texts for demotic, and if this was the case, then at
that time, with the intuition peculiar to him, he had already hit upon
the truth which was established many decades later by de Rougé,
Lenormant, and ourselves; namely, that the Semitic, and indeed,
primarily, the Phœnician alphabet, must be traced back to the Egyptian
hieratic. He also worked enthusiastically over the principles of sound
in the Coptic. This language, which at first seemed to him quite
“chaotic” on account of the “cumulative vowels” which it presents,
became more attractive to him after he had learned, by comparison of the
manuscripts written in the different dialects to distinguish between
them, and to penetrate more deeply into their wonderfully subtle
syntactical construction. It was of great advantage to him in these
studies that Peyron’s Coptic Lexicon was published just at this time,
and that he was able to procure each proof-sheet as it left the press.
After he had obtained a good insight into the Coptic he ventured to
attack the demotic and ancient Egyptian written in hieroglyphics. As, in
the works then published on the ancient Egyptian language, deduction and
hypothesis appeared far too much alike, he was extremely glad to receive
the ready assistance of Salvolini, the disciple of Champollion mentioned
above. This very talented Italian, under the direction of the master,
Champollion, had occupied himself with Egyptology exclusively for ten
years, and Lepsius was able to inspire him with such interest that he
wrote to Bunsen of the young scholar in the warmest terms. But after
Lepsius was permitted to examine the literary legacy of Champollion he
perceived that Salvolini had secretly made reckless use of another’s
labors, and that precisely those things which the younger Egyptologist
had considered the most important discoveries of Salvolini, had been
made, not by him, but by the master, Champollion.
Biot’s book[22] on the vague year of the Egyptians, which had been
published shortly before, led Lepsius also to the study of the calendar
and chronology of the Egyptians, and prompted him to make Bunsen fully
acquainted with his views on the year of Sirius and the Sothiac cycle.
He sent the work mentioned to his patron, and in consequence of a
request made by him, furnished him with everything that appeared in
Paris in the way of new literary productions.
Bunsen meanwhile was solicitous for the material welfare of his
protégé, and it is not a little to be ascribed to his and Gerhard’s
influence,--Boeckh too was a zealous advocate,--that the Academy of
Sciences at Berlin awarded Lepsius five hundred thalers for his farther
improvement in Egyptology, and that Gerhard,--although not
officially,--could offer him the prospect of the same amount for a
second year.
Before this assistance had been promised him he had written to Bunsen:
“It is easy to understand that there may be much opposition to
furnishing aid for such a special object, as every one will not regard
the importance of it in the same way ... but I am especially anxious
because I have not yet been able to present to the Academy anything
which could give me an ostensible claim to the assistance which I
desire. On this account I have thought that it might be of advantage to
my affairs if I should put in order and send to the Academy my treatise
on numerical words and arithmetical figures. It seems to me that I have
indisputably found the key to this interesting subject in the Egyptian
figures and Coptic numeral words. If all this meets with your approval,
I would first send this treatise to William von Humboldt, who is most
interested in special investigations of this subject, and probably,
also, in the method of treating it. The extremely friendly letter, and
the favorable opinion (far beyond my expectations), which he sent me,
when I forwarded to him my little pamphlet on Sanscrit paleography, have
given me hopes of a kind reception from him.”
In fact, the treatise was despatched to Berlin, but when it arrived
there William von Humboldt was no longer among the living, and it was
with great difficulty that Lepsius was able to recover his manuscript.
The Berlin Academy awarded him the sum mentioned without it, for they
knew that the recipient was worthy, and that it would produce good fruit
to science.
“The death of William von Humboldt,” Lepsius wrote to Bunsen on the
thirtieth of April, 1835, “has greatly grieved me, as well on account of
the personal kindness which he repeatedly manifested towards me, as on
account of the irreparable loss which the science of language has
suffered thereby. It was he especially by whom I most hoped to be
understood in my philological aims, and whose verdict I had always in
mind throughout this last work. You must be aware that he leaves two
works in manuscript, one on the Sanscrit languages of the Indian
Islands, another on languages in general.”
The handsome stipend of the Berlin Academy smoothed Lepsius’ way to
Italy, whither Bunsen summoned him with ever increasing urgency.
Up to that time, Panofka and de Witte, out of scientific enthusiasm, had
taken charge of the editorial work for the Institute in Paris. When they
retired, Bunsen appointed Lepsius in the place of de Witte, who
initiated him into the business. After his predecessor had left Paris,
Lepsius took charge, in his absence, of the printing of the annals of
the Institute and of the correspondence. These affairs claimed a large
portion of his time, and he would have gone immediately to Rome, the
headquarters of the Institute, had he not felt that his work in Paris
was not completed as far as Coptic was concerned. He also devoted
himself with special ardor to ancient Egyptian and hieroglyphics. In
these he continued to profit by the assistance of Salvolini, whose
rapidly progressing interpretation of the Rosetta stone interested him
greatly. Yet Lepsius already began to feel a slight mistrust of him,
especially on account of the unfavorable manner in which he expressed
himself regarding the industrious Egyptologist Rosellini, whom
Champollion had esteemed highly. From Bunsen, too, Lepsius had heard
nothing but praise of the latter, and moreover, Rosellini’s historical
works served him as a starting point for his own chronological
investigations, which began to interest him the more, the better he
succeeded in deciphering for himself the names of kings and little
historical hieroglyphic texts. For the great rapidity and certainty of
his progress he was indebted to the excellent linguistic training which
he had enjoyed. He had already exercised his talent for deciphering in
handling the Eugubian Tables. The critical method of his philological
guides had so become a part of his flesh and blood, that Bunsen could
justly describe him as safe against the danger of publishing anything
uncertain or untenable, or of announcing good results prematurely.
Before Rosellini had become personally acquainted with Lepsius he
magnanimously confided to the promising new disciple of his science all
of his notes that the latter desired to see, and gave him by letter
whatever explanations he wished. This he did in such an amiable manner
that Lepsius wrote to Bunsen: “I have taken extraordinary pleasure in
the inestimable liberality and courtesy of Rosellini. One meets with the
contrary among the French scholars here. If the French were better
etymologists they would perceive that in science as in life _liberté_
and _liberalité_ come from the same root.”
The letter which our friend sent to Bunsen on the twenty-fourth of June,
1835, as a draught of a paper to be addressed to the Berlin Academy of
Sciences,[23] contains more detailed information as to the history of
his first attempts in Egyptology while at Paris. With this communication
he also submitted to the Academy the treatises mentioned above on
numerical words and the oldest alphabetical systems (see page 81). The
allowance of five hundred thalers which we mentioned was only granted
for one year, but Boeckh had kindly prevented a motion that the stipend
should be granted only once, from coming to a resolution. Thus Lepsius,
who knew the state of affairs, wrote confidently to Bunsen: “I cannot
think that the Academy will leave me in the lurch later, if, with God’s
help, I have made some progress in this fruitful science, and shown them
that I am as good a husbandman as another with my plow and ox. Therefore
I will henceforth specially aim to deserve the confidence of the
Academy, and I believe that I shall best compass this by keeping them
informed of my operations on the field upon which I have entered.”
At that time there were, as we have already observed (See page 78), very
few good inscriptions published, and in August he had already advanced
so far in hieroglyphics that he was constantly looking about for new
texts, in order to copy and afterwards study them. To attain the highest
ends he felt that it was necessary to know and own all the inscriptions
that had been preserved from the time of the Pharaohs. In Göttingen he
had endeavored to obtain both material and intellectual possession of
all the treasures of the plastic art of the ancients by making copies of
them. Thus also in Paris he wished to acquaint himself with all the
monuments of the time of the Pharaohs which had reached that city, and
either to transcribe the inscriptions upon them, to copy them by
tracing, or to obtain them in the form of impressions taken on paper.
Copies of such as were accessible had long lain in his portfolio, but he
had heard that there was a magazine in which was stored, in utter
confusion, a great abundance of Egyptian monuments, especially the
larger ones. Yet it seemed impossible to obtain admission to these
hidden treasures. “It is the universal complaint,” writes Lepsius, “that
Louis Philippe does nothing in any way for the monuments of antiquity,
his taste is all for modern works of art, and he now employs all the
artists and officers of the Museum on the historical picture gallery in
Versailles. Just now, also, several guardians of the Louvre are
occupied there, and therefore they represent that it is impossible to
detail a guardian for me in the magazine.” He impatiently awaited the
decision from day to day, but it did not come; indeed it was still
withheld even after Herr von Werther, the Prussian Ambassador, had
interposed on behalf of Lepsius, and had procured him permission to copy
the Egyptian collection in the _Musée Charles X._ But this was of far
less importance to Lepsius than what was hidden in the magazine, for
there were all the sarcophagi and statues, and an exceedingly rich
collection of stelae, besides a hundred and fourteen tablets of plaster
casts from the walls of Karnak, and a great number of other matters. The
time of his departure from Paris drew near, and it would have seemed
almost intolerable to the ardent young investigator to leave France
without having seen these extremely important monuments. Just then
Alexander von Humboldt came to Paris, Lepsius complained to him of the
difficulty, the most influential of all men of that time interceded for
him, and he was immediately allowed access to the storehouse, at first
with a guardian, but afterwards without one.
Lepsius now spent the last weeks of his sojourn in Paris in taking the
most careful paper impressions from all the monuments there. About fifty
quires of blotting paper were soon consumed, and many a night of vigil
did he spend in making fair copies of the descriptions of the monuments
from which the impressions were taken, and of the results of his own
measurements. These treasures, so laboriously acquired, were of great
service to him later, and accompanied him from Rome to Berlin, where
they now are.
Furthermore, through Humboldt’s mediation, he had an opportunity to
inspect all the drawings and manuscripts of Champollion, and he found
them “surprisingly copious and interesting.” He was able to take the
first of the forty numbers of Champollion’s great work on monuments,
ready printed, to Italy with him. Champollion’s grammar was also soon to
be published.
Something had been neglected in regard to Lepsius’ military obligations,
which might have been momentous to the farther progress of the ardent
investigator, but this oversight did him no injury either, in
consequence of the warm commendation which Alexander von Humboldt had
given him to the Governor of Mentz, General v. Müffling. It cannot now
be ascertained on what grounds the robust and well developed young
doctor was released from military service, but before us lies a letter
written immediately after he had presented himself, which says, in
reference to his military duties: “And now in Mentz I have been relieved
of all farther anxiety in this respect.”
“In the latter part of my stay in Paris,” he writes to Bunsen in the
same letter, “I have learned to regard Barucchi, the director of the
Turin Museum, as a very excellent and courteous man. He has promised me
every possible facility and convenience in the Turin Museum for study,
so that now I can go there with great confidence of good results.”
Gladly and hopefully he crossed Mont Cenis to Turin; and yet the parting
from Paris had become hard for him. He had gained much there, and
acquired a fixed aim in life; there he had come to mature manhood, and
his whole personality, as well as his scientific activity and solid
abilities, had awakened the same good will on the Seine as previously in
Germany, at Leipsic, Göttingen, and Berlin. And no wonder! For nature
had endowed the youth, intellectually so highly gifted, with a tall and
imposing figure, and crowned it with a head whose beauty was to outlast
the years. The noble and sharply cut lineaments of his countenance
reflected the earnestness, the force, and the acuteness of his mind, and
wherever he showed himself in the circle of the leading literati of
Berlin, where there was no lack of impressive heads, all eyes were drawn
to him, and even strangers were attracted to inquire about him. When his
abundant hair had become snow-white he was one of the handsomest of old
men. He told us, in an hour of social relaxation, that he was once
climbing one of the Swiss mountains in very hot weather--I believe it
was the Faulhorn,--and had sat down near the summit, with dripping brow.
A strange gentleman, who had joined him, had sunk down beside him, and
had responded to his observation that it was frightfully hot: “You ought
to be accustomed to that, Professor. When one has climbed the pyramids
and made excavations in Ethiopia, as you have--.” Lepsius asked the
stranger how he came to know him, and received from the other--as it
turned out afterwards, a medical colleague from Heidelberg,--the answer,
“How can one forget your medallion-countenance after once seeing it?”
His profile was, in truth, singularly fine. I, myself, first met Lepsius
in his forty-ninth year, 1859, as his pupil, but the impression which he
made on me at that time was such that I willingly credited the assurance
of a Leipsic friend, whose parents’ house Lepsius had frequented as a
student, that he had been one of the handsomest young men of his day.
The same bearing which he retained throughout his life, and which
entirely corresponded to his essential nature, must also have been
peculiar to him as a student. It was quiet, yet not stiff, well-bred,
and equally appropriate in all circumstances of life. Moreover, with all
his industry and earnestness, he was at that time always glad to go into
society, and he long preserved and cherished his musical gifts and
pleasure in singing, as well as his fondness for chess.
ITALY.
The route which Lepsius took to Rome was entirely determined by the
Egyptological studies to which he had devoted himself with such great
zeal and success during the latter part of the time in Paris. It led him
first to Turin.
There he might hope to find all that was best and of most importance,
for the Egyptian museum at Turin is now, and was at that time, one of
the largest and richest in the world, and so far exceeded Lepsius’
expectations that instead of several weeks he allowed himself to be
detained there for more than three months.
On the twenty-fourth of February he wrote to Bunsen: “I have not thought
it necessary to hurry, as Turin is without doubt the most important
point of my journey as far as the collection of materials is concerned.
One realizes this thrice as strongly when one has staid here awhile and
become familiar with the situation. I leave this excellent museum very
unwillingly, but one would have to stay for years to exhaust it, and I
do not think that I have employed my time ill. You will enjoy the rich
harvest which I bring you from here. I have taken paper impressions of
all the inscriptions engraved on hard stone; part of them with starch,
which makes them indestructible. Unfortunately, I could not continue my
Parisian collection of a hundred and twenty stelae in the same way, for
they were unnecessarily afraid here of injury to the limestone from the
damp paper, so that the most important stelae and many other objects in
limestone I have partly counterdrawn with pith paper and partly copied,
and have done this to some extent in the colors, the value of which I
first learned to appreciate properly here. The greater part of the time,
though, I have spent upon the rich stores of papyrus, almost the whole
of which, with all the important fragments of every kind, I have
counterdrawn or copied. I have taken special pains with the large
perfect ritual, which can be found here and nowhere else.” He had not
yet seen the stores of papyrus in London and Leyden. “It was a matter of
special importance to me to possess some common basis for all the other
fragments of the ritual (which are to be found everywhere; a portion of
them are at Rome), for the special purpose of beginning an extensive
collection of the different readings; very necessary for the study of
hieroglyphics. Therefore, I have spared no pains to compare the whole
Parisian papyrus, a copy of which I have, with that here. I have noted
all the different readings, in the text as well as in the vignettes, and
counterdrawn all that is lacking, which amounts to about twice as much
as the Parisian copy. So that I now possess the most perfect ritual, in
a volume of more than sixty sheets of paper, of half-folio size,
stitched together, besides the collation of the Parisian ritual, a
preparatory work which will be very valuable for future studies.”
In fact all the material that he so laboriously acquired at Turin formed
the foundation for his celebrated edition of the Book of the Dead, of
which we shall have to speak hereafter. Many historical dates, which are
contained in the monuments preserved at Turin and the famous papyrus of
the kings were also collected by him in 1836; yet he found, on his
second journey to Turin in 1841, that in his first visit to the museum
many of the treasures preserved there had been purposely withheld from
him.
From Turin he went to Pisa, partly to make the acquaintance of
Rosellini, with whom he had long been in scientific correspondence,
partly to study the monuments which the latter had brought with him, and
the papyrus and other written records which were intrusted to the care
of the Italian Egyptologist.
“Rosellini,” he writes on the twentieth of March, 1836, “received me
very cordially, and I find myself well off in this excellent family,
where I spend the whole day, from nine o’clock in the morning till nine
at night.” The monuments here had less to offer him, “but so much the
more do I learn,” he writes, “from Rosellini’s Lexicon of Hieroglyphics.
This also contains the accumulations of Champollion, and I shall copy it
out in full. Besides this, I derive great benefit from the oral
instruction and communications, which Rosellini gives me on all possible
subjects without the least reservation. I quickly perceived, that I
should not be able to leave this place as soon as I had expected.” The
following verses, with which he took leave of the Rosellinis, may show
how intimate the relation had become between the young German and the
family of the Italian scholar:
From the South to the South
I am driven away;
From the North to the South--
Yet fain would I stay.
* * * * *
From country to country,
From dome unto dome;
From Strasburg to Pisa,
From Pisa to Rome.
* * * * *
Wert thou in the South land,
Thou home of my heart,
No farther I’d wander,
I’d never depart.
* * * * *
Yet linger I may not,
And so I prepare
In my heart a warm shelter,
And cherish thee there.
* * * * *
Then when farther I’m roaming
I’ll bear thee with me,
And Heaven, protecting,
Will guard me with thee.
PISA, April 19, 1836.
After Pisa he visited Leghorn, where was lodged the Drovetti collection,
which was afterwards purchased for the Berlin Museum, by the special
advice of Lepsius. The owner had asked sixty thousand francs, and got
thirty thousand. Amongst the monuments was the Colossus of Rameses II,
and the valuable fragment of the statue of Usurtasen I. (throne and
legs). This is now restored and is the great ornament of the Egyptian
collection in the capital city of the empire. It may be seen, from a
letter which Lepsius wrote to Bunsen about the collection, that the
fragment of the statue of Usurtasen I. had only been brought to Europe
by Drovetti in order to restore with it the slightly injured colossus of
the same king. The fragment consisted of the same “black granite”
(properly graywacke) as the better preserved statue of Rameses II.
In May, 1836, Lepsius at last arrived in Rome, richly laden with
treasures. There, for the first time, he met Charles J. Bunsen, who had
directed his attention towards Egyptian antiquity, and had assisted him
with fatherly kindness during his residence in Paris. Bunsen was at that
time living on the Tiber as Prussian Ambassador, under the title of
Minister Resident. He presided as chief secretary over the
Archaeological Institute, which had been founded by Gerhard, with his
assistance, in 1829. Ten years before the arrival of Lepsius,
Champollion had visited Rome, and found there an enthusiastic admirer
and disciple in Bunsen. Absorbed in numerous affairs, and in other
branches of research,[24] the latter could devote but a small portion
of his time to Egyptological studies. In Lepsius he believed that he had
found the right man to continue the work of Champollion with greater
success, and in a more profound and independent spirit, than the
Master’s two disciples, Salvolini and Rosellini. He also hoped that
Lepsius would be specially fitted to take charge of the business of
recording secretary of the Institute in conjunction with Braun. For this
he had already proved his ability in Paris.
The affairs of this learned society were at that time in a very bad
condition. The most necessary pecuniary means were wanting, differences
of opinion, which seemed entirely irreconcilable, divided the Parisian
and the Roman-Prussian sections, and indeed there was serious question
as to the continued existence of this beneficient Institute. But, as
Michaelis, its historiographer, expresses himself, “Danger stimulated
Bunsen’s elastic spirit,” and at the right moment Lepsius, together with
Braun, “who was delighted with his expert colleague,” stepped into the
breach. We will not say that it was Lepsius alone who averted the
threatened danger, but it is certainly to be partly ascribed to his warm
personal relations with Panofka, de Witte, and the noble Duc de Luynes,
who was so influential in France, that the relations of the society to
Paris, and its affairs in general, improved soon after his participation
in the management. What impression he made on his appearance in Rome may
be shown by the following passage from a letter which Bunsen’s wife
wrote to her mother on the twelfth of May, 1856: “Lepsius,” says this
estimable lady, “has been here since Monday. He makes a very pleasant
impression in regard to character as well as talents; in short, he
fulfills the expectations roused by his letters, which were clear,
upright, intelligent, copious, but not excessive. He has naturally
refined manners, but no stiffness, and is neither presuming nor shy. It
is incredible, what material he has collected for his study of Egyptian
antiquities, and his drawings are wonderfully executed. You can fancy
that Charles (Bunsen) is delighted to talk of hieroglyphics with him;
yet it does not make him idle,--he is busily occupied the whole day, and
only at meal times and in the evenings does he enjoy such a great
pleasure.”
At that time Bunsen was already contemplating the execution of his great
work “The Place of Egypt in the History of the World,” and from the
first was disposed to confide many of the special researches for it to
Lepsius. Soon, however, (indeed long before his recall from Rome), he
felt inclined to offer him the honor of being his collaborator. “Bunsen
and Lepsius” were to appear upon the title-page as the authors; and if
the elder scholar and statesmen furnished the great leading ideas, the
young doctor, with bee-like industry, collected everything in Rome that
might prove useful for the details of the work.
Bunsen knew how to value the labors of the new member of the board of
directors and editing secretary of the Institute, and Lepsius soon felt
at home in the inspiring atmosphere of his house.
The Ambassador and Gerhard both successfully exerted their influence in
Berlin to induce the Academy, which was already well disposed towards
the first critically trained German Egyptologist, to grant him
additional assistance. It would be impossible to imagine help more
energetic, more disinterested, or more efficacious, than that which
Lepsius thus received from Bunsen. The hundreds of letters before us,
addressed by the former to his patron, show how the relation between
them became continually more intimate and cordial. The superscription
changes by degrees from “Highly Honored Herr Minister,” to “Dearest Herr
Privy Counselor,” “My Dear, Fatherly Friend,” and finally, “Most Highly
Esteemed Friend.” When the young scholar writes to his beloved patron on
special occasions, his letters, usually calm and confined to the matter
in hand, acquire a heartiness and warmth otherwise alien to them. He
once wrote to Bunsen on his birthday (1839): “My heartiest thanks for
your splendid letter of August twenty-second, and for the delightful
lines which I received yesterday. May the Lord grant you his most
abundant blessing in the new year of your life just beginning, as in all
that follow, and preserve to me your fatherly affection, which has
already so often strengthened, encouraged, and refreshed me. I have far
greater need of you, and am more dependent on you than it may appear to
you. I feel it with every sheet that I receive from your hand, and that
surprises me unawares in my disposition to triviality, timidity, and
every sort of narrow-mindedness. Your words, even the most unimportant,
fall like pearls upon my poverty, and I feed upon them from one letter
to another.”
With what sincerity these ardent phrases were meant is evident from
Lepsius’ letters to his father and mother, in which he always speaks of
Bunsen with enthusiasm and child-like affection.
Even in after years Lepsius’ eye would still kindle, his measured speech
grow fervent, when he recalled Charles Bunsen, the inexhaustible wealth
of his ideas, the depth of his knowledge, the purity of his character,
and the friendship which united the statesman and investigator, though
twenty years the older, with the aspiring scholar; which only gained in
strength from year to year, survived the death of the one, and was borne
to the grave with the other.
Bunsen had the advantage of Lepsius in a rich, poetic, soaring
imagination, otherwise they had many great qualities in common.
Frederick William IV. had honored Bunsen with the title of baron. Apart
from this, however, he, like Lepsius, deserves to be designated as a
genuine noble German freeman; that is, a man of unalterable intrinsic
superiority, who derives the right to carry his head loftily, not from
external circumstances, but from honest, indefatigable, difficult, and
conscientious work. To such labor they both remained faithful through
all the circumstances of life, and when we see the leaders of a
turbulent party claiming the name of “workman” exclusively for the man
with horny hands, and exerting themselves to restrict within the
narrowest limits the hours of employment for the day laborer, we would
point to these two men, who free from every material solicitude of life,
turned their nights into day, bade defiance to bodily fatigue, and only
sought refreshment in change of occupation, in order to fit themselves
for the exalted enterprise which they had imposed upon themselves.
His first purely Egyptological paper presents the most brilliant
evidence of the zeal and sagacity with which Lepsius, from the
beginning, devoted himself to the study of the Egyptian writing and
language. It appeared in the annals of the Roman Archaeological
Institute, in the shape of a letter to his Pisan friend, Rosellini,[25]
and ranks among model works of this kind on account of its wonderful
succinctness, clearness and comprehensiveness. Lepsius gives in it a
complete summary of the whole system of writing of the ancient
Egyptians. He distinguishes, with clearness and acuteness, the elements
of which this is composed, and from the Master’s list of sound symbols,
which was much too large, he singles out those elements which do not
properly belong there, and fortunately rejects one of the fundamental
errors of Champollion’s system. As we now know, the phonetic part of
hieroglyphics, that is the part relating to sounds, consists simply of
letters which were sounded,--our _matres lectionis_,--and syllabic
signs. These by themselves alone can represent a syllable. Thus, the
mere picture of a mirror is to be read ‘_anch_,’ but to this picture may
also pertain all the sounds of the syllable which it represents: thus,
in our case, an ‘_a_, _n_, and _ch_.’ Champollion, on the contrary, had
known nothing of syllabic symbols, and thus regarded the mirror as a
mere abbreviation of the word ‘_anch_,’ which he had also met with
written out in full.
This error was done away with by Lepsius,[26] and through him that
immensely important element of writing, the syllabic symbol, received
its due. The observations contained in this treatise on the relation of
Coptic (See page 76) to ancient Egyptian, are also of fundamental value.
Lepsius’ letter to Rosellini gives a critical recapitulation of the
discoveries of the Master. It is the first really methodical and
scientific work of an adherent of the Champollionic system, and although
after this Lepsius only returned incidentally to the linguistic and
grammatical side of Egyptology,[27] yet in this work, as everywhere
where he planted the lever, he has pointed out the right way and method.
In the Nubian Grammar, which was one of the chief works of his life,
and which was completed at a late date, he showed how firmly he stood
upon the grammatical foundation so early won, and how faithful he
remained thenceforth to grammatical studies. He did not cease, too, to
work at those studies, regarding the sounds of languages and the
alphabet, to which he had early devoted himself. His “Standard
Alphabet,”[28] which originated long afterwards and amidst great
opposition, was intended chiefly to enable missionaries and travellers
to reproduce correctly in our own language the sounds of the foreign
tongues examined by them. This was to be done by means of letters,
easily and conveniently modified by dashes and dots. It became of great
practical importance, as it was adopted by the English “Church
Missionary Society” as the most available universal alphabet to be
employed, according to their directions, by their emissaries. No one can
deny that it is also of scientific value. Its applicability has been
specially proved with the African languages, and in this department it
has been most successfully employed in a great number of grammatical and
lexicographical works, as well as biblical translations and the
reproduction of narrations, legends, and proverbs in the various idioms.
Of the Hamitic branch of the African languages, which is distinguished
by grammatical genders, there are seven side-branches, from the ancient
Egyptian to the _Haūsa-_ and _Nama-_ (_Namaqua-_) languages, which have
been thus examined. Of the more remote native African idioms there are
not less than twenty-two. In 1874, during the Congress of Orientalists
at London, we ourselves were permitted to hold council with him and
other leaders of science, concerning an acceptable universal method of
transcription for hieroglyphic writing. Many of his propositions were
adopted at that time, but the method of transcription agreed on in the
British Museum did not become current, and it is undoubtedly in need of
much improvement.
Lepsius had already given particular attention to the two special
departments in which he was to achieve the greatest and most fruitful
results; first at Göttingen, under the superintendence of O. Müller,
then in Paris after the publication of Biot’s work, and finally at Rome,
in the company of Bunsen. These departments were first, history, with
its numerical groundwork of chronology, and in the second place,
mythology.
Here, everything was still to be achieved, for before the hieroglyphics
had been deciphered, scholars had been obliged to depend solely upon
Grecian accounts of the Egyptian kings and gods, especially upon those
given by Herodotus, and therefore had often relied on reports which were
most inadequate, and which in many cases were misunderstood. The power
recently acquired of reading the writing of the Egyptians disclosed a
wealth of original material, which was unexpected, new, and authentic.
The incontrovertible importance of this was self-evident, and even
during Champollion’s lifetime many rushed upon the freshly discovered
mines, and sought to rifle them for historical and mythological
purposes. But, although at the outset many mistakes and uncertainties
were rectified, and much that was incontestably new was established, yet
on the other hand, error after error was introduced into the science by
the rash course of the immediate successors of Champollion. They
received on faith that which they only half comprehended, and applied it
without care or criticism. They instituted comparisons upon bases either
false or insufficiently established, and by means of them arrived at
conclusions that we can now only regard with scorn and dismay. In place
of the imperfect knowledge of former time, there appeared as its evil
successor a disorder without parallel. The grateful, but difficult task
undertaken by Lepsius, was to clear this away, and compel Egyptological
research to conform to the same critical method which has become
obligatory for other branches of study, and without which there can be
no soundness in science.
Out of vague and unregulated fancies concerning Egyptian history and
mythology, he formed a true Egyptian history and science of Egyptian
divinities. By his strong hand were restrained the more or less
ingenious and active divagations of Champollion’s successors, and he
pointed out the path by which alone Egyptology could succeed in winning
the name of a science.
His course was at the same time bold, prudent, and dexterous. He
considered the whole extent of the monumental material collected by
himself, or otherwise attainable, separated it into groups, sifted
these, and treated the essential constituents which he thus extracted
according to the same critical method to which he had become accustomed
in other departments of science, under the tutelage of Hermann, Dissen,
Müller, Bopp, Lachmann, and Boeckh.
After his journey to England and Holland, of which we shall soon have to
speak, he possessed a sovereign comprehensive view of all of the written
relics of the Egyptians to be found in Europe. But he carefully guarded
himself against drawing conclusions from them which had not been
thoroughly worked out, or from using them, like many other followers of
Champollion, in the building of card houses.
In the historical group of his collectanea, which were arranged with the
orderliness peculiar to himself, he brought together all the kings’
names which it was possible to obtain, and all texts provided with
dates, as well as all writings on stone or papyrus which concerned the
genealogical relations of the Pharaonic families. Thus, too, during his
sojourn at Rome we see him chiefly occupied in collecting the building
stones only for that chronological-historical edifice to be reared in
more tranquil days, and which he expected to erect in common with
Bunsen.
This self-control was to be well rewarded, for on his first and most
important expedition to Egypt there flowed in upon him an affluence of
new material, especially regarding the earliest epoch of Pharaonic
history, which supplemented and in many ways modified that previously
obtained. We can now take a comprehensive view of all the acquisitions
of that time, and if we compare them with the two folio volumes of his
Book of Kings,[29] or rather with the first draught of the same as he
completed it in 1842, we must be astonished at the wealth of material
which he had collected by the close of his sojourn upon the Tiber. The
work mentioned contains in its present form all the names of the
Pharaohs which have been preserved on monuments or papyrus, and is an
indispensable handbook to anyone occupied in the study of Egyptian
history. Its accuracy is equal to its copiousness, in which it had of
course gained immensely, compared to the first sketch, which he
willingly and frequently showed us.
The production of a new book of this kind could only mean the giving of
a new title to Lepsius’ Book of Kings, for the arrangement of this great
work is so fine and faultless that a change could but injure it. If we
regard the first draft of the Book of Kings, which was completed before
the Egyptian journey (it was never printed), as the foundation of
Lepsius’ later chronological labors, we must acknowledge that at that
time it would have been entirely impossible to add anything new to what
was there collected.
It is with such weapons as these that victories are won, but he who had
forged them imposed upon himself one preparatory labor after another
before he entered upon the combat, and used them for the great
historical purposes which he had in view.
In Turin he had also laid the foundations for his later researches in
mythology, especially that of the ancient Egyptians, and in this group
of studies we see him proceed with exactly the same method and
circumspection as in his chronological works. His predecessors had found
the innumerable and motley figures of the Egyptian Pantheon, often
accompanied by their names, portrayed upon monuments of stone and
papyrus, and had compared them with those divine beings of the Egyptians
mentioned by the classic writers. They had attempted to explain the
significance of these figures, and in so doing, where the sources of
information at their command would not serve them, they had given free
play to their imaginations,--it is only necessary to remember the
ingenious phantasies of Creuzer, Roth, etc. The gods throng through
their writings in a wild confusion, and it had occurred to no one, not
even to Champollion (whose _Panthéon égyptien_[30] must nevertheless
always be characterized as a valuable preparatory work), to proceed to
an organization of the great crowd of gods, and to point out the
historical principle by which they were to be classified.
This task Lepsius imposed upon himself, but here too, during his stay in
Italy, he contented himself with sifting and studying all the materials
at hand, and we are enabled to take a survey of his introductory labors
in this province also. During his first sojourn in Turin he had already
discerned that innumerable religious texts, existing in all the museums,
on papyrus rolls, sarcophagi, mummy cloths, amulets, etc., belonged
collectively to a larger work, to which he gave the name of “Book of the
Dead.” This work, composed from many fragments, never reached a
canonical conclusion, but the larger specimens of it included all the
chapters which occurred alone, or in lesser number, on smaller papyri or
monuments. Lepsius recognized the true significance of this book, which
Champollion erroneously considered a book of ritual (_rituel
funéraire_), that is, a book which comprised the prayers and formulas to
be repeated and the hymns to be sung at the burial of the dead. It was
usually found on the body of the deceased, under the mummy cloths, or in
the coffin, and its contents only referred incidentally, and to a
certain extent in a recapitulatory manner to transactions which were to
take place on earth. The destiny of the soul which sprang from Osiris
resembled the destiny of the god himself, and it is with this destiny
that the “Book of the Dead” is occupied. It was given to the departed to
carry with him into the grave as a passport and aid to memory. For in
the other world it was necessary to sing hymns of praise, and with the
help of the “right word,” which they imagined as endowed with magic
power, to ward off demons and hostile beasts, to open gates, to procure
food and drink, to justify oneself before Osiris and the forty-two
judges, and finally to secure for the deceased all his claims as a god.
Everything depended on being acquainted with the magical “right word,”
and in order that it should always be at the command of the traveller
through the next world, it was first written on the sarcophagus and then
on the grave-clothes. From the collection of these formulas, then, arose
the “Book of the Dead,” the _vade mecum_, the cicerone, for the pilgrim
through the mysteries of the other life.
After the dead had received back all the faculties of the body which he
possessed on earth, and when, after the justification in the hall of
judgment, he had also received his heart, he advanced from portal to
portal, and from degree to degree, until he had attained his final goal,
apotheosis. In this last stage the pure spirit of light was freed from
all the dust of this life; and then, being one with the sun-god Ra, as a
shining day-star, he crossed the heavens in a golden bark, and received,
himself a god, the attributes and the reverence of gods and the homage
of men. Endowed with the power of clothing himself at will in any form
he desired, he was permitted by day or night to sail through the
firmament as sun or star in divine light, to mix with mortals upon
earth, to soar through the air as a bird, or as a lotos flower, blooming
beautifully, to repose in serene blessedness and breathe forth perfume.
As might be expected from what has already been said, in this book are
to be found the elements of the Egyptian religious belief and doctrine
of immortality. Although these are difficult to understand on account of
the inflated mode of expression, as well as the confused superabundance
of symbols, allegories, metaphors, and illustrations (unfortunately,
these obscure the sense far more frequently than they elucidate it), and
although much of it must have been misunderstood by Lepsius at the age
of thirty, yet it could not escape him that a searching study of this
fundamental book must precede any critical treatment of Egyptian
mythology. On this account, as we know, in 1836 he made a copy of the
large and very perfect hieroglyphic specimen of the “Book of the Dead,”
and amended it during a second sojourn in Turin in 1841. In the year
1842, as we shall see, he published[31] the great roll of papyrus,
fifty-seven feet and three inches long. The seventy-nine tablets
contained in this fine publication were transferred to the stone by the
careful and skillful designer and lithographer, Max Weidenbach, a
Naumburg fellow-countryman of Lepsius. This man, as well as his no less
skillful brother, certainly deserves mention here, for under the
direction of Lepsius they both succeeded in mastering Egyptian writing
so thoroughly that their hieroglyphic manuscript was in no respect
inferior to that of the best hierogrammatists of the time of the
Pharaohs, It is to them that the publications of Lepsius owe the rare
purity of style which distinguishes them, and we are indebted above all
to the delicate apprehension and the skillful hand of the brothers
Weidenbach that the hieroglyphic types which were restored for the
Berlin Academy under the superintendence of Lepsius, turned out to be
such models of beauty and style, that they are at present universally
employed. Even in Paris the types produced in the French government
printing office were set aside in their favor.
If at the present day we critically consider Lepsius’ edition of the
“Book of the Dead,” we must certainly regret that it had for a basis the
Turin copy, which is replete with errors of writing and defects arising
from hasty work, and which dates from a comparatively late period. But,
on the other hand, we must praise the industry, care and ability with
which its editor studied the text before the excellent “preface” was
written and the distribution of the whole into chapters was
accomplished. This distribution has stood till the present day, and when
we now speak of the first, seventeenth and hundred and twenty-fifth
chapters as the most important sections of the “Book of the Dead,” in so
doing we follow the construction given by Lepsius. In a few months there
will be published a collection of the finest texts of the “Book of the
Dead” from the best period, prepared by the excellent Genoese
Egyptologist, E. Naville, under the auspices of the Berlin Academy. It
was Lepsius, again, who gave the impulse to this great and useful
undertaking at the Oriental Congress in London, 1874; and even in this
most recent edition of the “Book of the Dead”[32] the classification
given by him will be preserved. It is precisely this which is wonderful
and unique in his works; that they are of lasting stability, and that
their substructure remains permanently fixed no matter what alterations
may be made in details by more recent acquisitions. There is almost no
edifice in the whole domain of Egyptology where the foundation stone
does not bear the name of “Lepsius.”
Let us here anticipate by mentioning that throughout his life Lepsius
did not cease to busy himself with the “Book of the Dead,” and that even
in 1867, in a large and excellent work,[33] he made an effort to trace
out the origin of the whole work collectively, and of its principal
parts. The sarcophagi of the ancient kingdom and the funereal texts
which cover them, constitute the foundation of this important
publication, which once more points out the path for research, and upon
which many special investigations have already been, and in the future
must be, based.
After his sojourn in Egypt, Lepsius was able for the first time to bring
to a positive conclusion the studies on Egyptian mythology, which he had
begun in Italy. Yet he wrote to Bunsen from Thebes that he had almost
despaired of any real progress in the field of mythology, and had only
collected the materials in obedience to a blind instinct. “Now,” he
continues, “I have found the red thread, which will lead through this
apparently endless labyrinth. I have made out the divinities, great and
small, and also the most important data for the history of Egyptian
mythology. The relation between the Greek accounts and the monuments has
become clear to me; in short, I know that an Egyptian mythology really
can be written.”
That which he found in Thebes he combined, at a comparatively late date,
with what he had gained in Italy, and the results of all these
collections, studies, and combinations were finally accumulated in his
epoch-producing work on the first Egyptian Pantheon.[34] This proves
that even with the motley swarm of Egyptian Gods it is possible to
follow the historical principle of classification. Lepsius was the
first, not only to discover and more nearly determine the “group of the
superior gods,” but also to establish clearly the reasons why the adored
beings of whom it consists are associated together. Where variations
occurred he explained their origin from local or temporal causes in a
convincing manner. His conjectures as to the age of the Osiris myth have
been confirmed by the inscriptions in the lately opened pyramids.
In his treatise on the gods of the four elements[35] there is much with
which we cannot now agree. Contrary to his opinion their names occur
much earlier than the time of the Ptolemies. But in spite of this and
other errors the paper stands, as far as method is concerned, on an
equal footing with its predecessors, and it is here that he has summed
up in a brief phrase the rule which he steadfastly obeyed during his
long and active scientific career: “In all antiquarian investigations it
will always be safest to begin with a chronological analysis of the
material, before proceeding to a systematic arrangement thereof.”
Lepsius also adhered firmly to this rule when he entered upon that
department of his science towards which at Rome he was impelled, not
only by the influence of the Archaeological Institute to which he
belonged, but by the tendency of his whole life. He there turned his
attention to the art of the ancient Egyptians, and chiefly to their
architecture. In his parents’ house at Naumburg he had seen the
preference with which his father cultivated this branch of art; on all
his journeys he filled his note-book with observations on the remarkable
buildings which he encountered, and accompanied them with little
drawings. We know how eagerly, particularly at Göttingen, he had
followed the progress of the archaeology of art, which was greatly
promoted at that time by the influence of Winckelmann. The air of Rome,
too, was as thoroughly permeated with art then as it is now, and with
even more enthusiastic artistic interests. There all conversation
between aspiring friends so easily took, as it still takes, the form of
a conversation on art. So that Lepsius, as well as Bunsen, who a few
years later was to publish his celebrated work on Christian basilicas,
felt the liveliest interest in these subjects and was forced by an
inherent necessity to give special attention to the remarkable art of
that people to whose resurrection he had pledged the best powers of his
life.
In 1838, then, there appeared Lepsius’ dissertation on the columns of
the ancient Egyptians, and their connection with the Grecian
columns.[36] When we designate this work also, which lay outside of the
master’s special field of research, as original, and unsurpassed of its
kind, in so doing we are in no wise “burning incense to our dead” but
simply judging it as it deserves to be rated. Here, as elsewhere,
Lepsius applies the law quoted above, by dividing chronologically the
material which he has first thoroughly collected, and pointing out how
the Egyptian columns arose from their original beginnings and developed
themselves independently, here in cave-building, and there in open-air
edifices;--he scrupulously maintains the division between the two. This
classification alone is a real achievement, and any one who follows the
progress of cave-building step by step with him, will see the Doric
column with all its component parts develop organically before him. Even
he who, out of regard for the omnipotence of the genius of Hellenic art,
is averse to considering the Doric column as an architectural
constituent borrowed by the Greeks from the Egyptians, will not be able
to deny that the transformation of the pillar in the so-called
proto-Doric column of the Egyptian cave-architecture (first and chiefly
in the vaults of Beni Hassan), can be proved to be natural and
necessary, while the Greek-Doric column, even in the oldest temples of
the Doric order, makes its first appearance as a thing complete, and as
fallen from heaven. It indeed forms from the beginning an organic and
essential part of the monument of architecture to which it belongs, but
while its origin cannot be definitely pointed out on Hellenic ground, it
can be easily and positively traced in the Egyptian cave-architecture.
Lepsius reverted to this question after his Egyptian journey, and in an
academical treatise[37] he criticized sharply yet admiringly the
fundamental conditions, the properties, and the merits of that Egyptian
art, whose development he here, as elsewhere, followed with peculiar
interest. He gave his attention also to the canon of proportions, that
is, the binding rule according to which the Egyptian sculptors were
obliged to measure and shape the relative proportions of the different
parts of the human body. He had already been interested in the study of
this subject in Rome, for in October, 1833, he saw a little bust in the
Palin collection which was furnished on the under surface and both side
surfaces with mathematically exact squares, the sides of which appeared
to give him the unit of the canon. “The whole bust,” he tells Bunsen,
“is wrought by this unit, which, in fact, according to my measurements
of various statues, is contained about twenty-one times in the whole
height.”
This canon was well known to the Greeks, and Diodorus refers to it in
the last chapter of his first book. According to him the body was to be
divided into twenty-one and a quarter parts, and Lepsius now found that
this rule conformed to the teachings of the later sculptors of the
Ptolemaic era, who undoubtedly divided the human form up to the top of
the forehead into twenty-one and one-quarter parts, but up to the crown
of the head into twenty-three parts. Previous to this mode of division
the canon had been twice altered, and both of these older rules (the
more recent refers to the sculptures of the time of the pyramids), had
for a fundamental unit the foot, which, taken six times, corresponded to
the height of the body when erect, not indeed, as one would have
expected, from the sole to the crown of the head, but only to the top of
the forehead. The distinction between the first and second canon
principally concerns the position of the knee: in the Ptolemaic canon,
known to Diodorus, Lepsius found the general distribution itself
changed. This he first discovered at Kom Ombos. We have always found the
estimates of Lepsius entirely confirmed by our own measurements; yet, as
the labors of Charles Blanc in the same department demonstrate, some
other unit than the foot might be the basis of the canon of proportions,
such as the finger in men, the claw in lions--_ex ungue leonem_.
The application of this obligatory rule (of the canon) impressed upon
the works of Egyptian plastic art that stamp of uniformity with which it
has been so often and so bitterly reproached. Yet we must regard the
artistic talents of the Egyptian sculptors from the first with great
respect when we consider the oldest specimens of Egyptian sculpture,
which far excel the later in freedom of method and in realistic fidelity
to nature, and which nevertheless are in no way inferior to them in all
that concerns delicacy of execution.
Let us then suppose that this most ancient artistic race was surrounded
by pure barbarians, who in the struggle for the bare necessaries of
existence had no superfluous force to expend in the adornment of life;
it is easy to understand that the guardians of Egyptian culture, the
priests, must have made every effort to protect against retrogression
and ruin the possession which was so recently won, and which was exposed
to constant peril. The canon of proportions held Egyptian sculpture
firmly fixed upon the lonely pinnacle so painfully attained, and even
though it checked farther progress in a lamentable manner, yet, on the
other hand it had this merit, that by its aid Egyptian plastic art
preserved untouched through every epoch its remarkable purity of style
and great technical skill. This latter even extended to the production
of the simple household furniture. Lepsius teaches us to value this law
correctly, and explains the peculiarity of the methods of sculpture by
the special qualities of the Egyptian national character, which gave its
full value to every detail with great fidelity, and only accorded the
second place in its regard to the aspect of the whole. The same people
whose language was rich in pronominal substantives and who, in an
objective sense, said, “I give to thy hand,” rather than “I give to
thee,” “the speech of his mouth,” rather than “his speech,” was obliged
to do justice to each separate portion of the body. For this reason, in
figures in alto-relievo and in paintings, the eye was set _en face_ in a
countenance in profile, in order that it might have its full value,
regardless of the detriment which accrued to the whole figure from such
an error.
Lepsius teaches us to regard and value Egyptian sculpture correctly and
to consider the detached figures which we see ranged in the museum in
connection with the architectural surroundings for which they were
originally intended. The erroneous view that Egyptian sculpture was
architectural in its spirit and execution has long been subverted by the
figures in the round from the ancient kingdom, found during the last
decade. These are true to nature and well preserved, and Lepsius knows
how to set forth their merits properly.
In his investigations concerning the canon of proportions, we see him
apply the measuring-scale for the first time, and his researches in the
province of Egyptian metrology were subsequently to yield a rich harvest
to science.
With all this purely Egyptological work, and his extensive labors for
the Institute, he did not neglect his old linguistic studies, and
resumed the investigations to which his dissertation on the Eugubian
tablets had given the impulse. The opportunity for the prosecution of
this work had formed no insignificant element of his attraction to
Rome, and we see him make a fine collection of Umbrian and Oscan
inscriptions, and draw up two papers on ancient Etruria, which did not
appear in print until several years later, and formed the extra profits,
as it were, of his sojourn in Italy. It is hard to understand how he
found time so far to complete them that from 1840 to 1842 he only had to
correct them, and to oversee their passage through the press, when we
consider that he in no wise withdrew himself from the social life of
Bunsen’s house, and from intercourse, grave and gay, with eminent
strangers. Lepsius himself calls the years in which he had the good
fortune “to build huts at Rome,” “a great holiday of life, earnest and
serene, instructive and elevating, a determinative period in his
development.”
Under Bunsen’s guidance, he says, he had learned to know life and
science upon classic ground from their highest and noblest sides.
In his intercourse with Bunsen he also acquired the interest in
politics, and especially in ecclesiastical politics, which he cherished
throughout his life, as is proved by his letters to his patron the
statesman, and to his father, as well as his own journals and the
diaries of his wife. In one of his note-books we find the plan, which,
however, was never taken into consideration, for a new episcopal order
for Germany. The seat of the supreme leader of the church and the
counselling authorities was to be Magdeburg.
HOLLAND, ENGLAND, AND THE SEASON OF WAITING, IN GERMANY.
In July, 1838, Lepsius was obliged to take leave of Rome with an
unwilling heart, in order to attend to business of importance for the
Institute, first at Paris and afterwards at London. He had to enroll new
and active members for it, and to organize its connection with the
English literati. Afterwards, by his own wish, he returned to his native
land, released from editorial labors for the Institute, although he
still continued to work for it as a member of the board of directors.
On the way from Paris to London he turned aside to Holland, in order to
study the celebrated collection of Egyptian antiquities at Leyden, which
since 1835 had an excellent director in C. Leemans. Here Lepsius found
an unexpected wealth of the most valuable monuments and papyri, and on
September 12th, 1838, he wrote to Bunsen: “I was going to leave to-day,
but now I shall be glad to stay for a few days more, as I can not return
again, and so must finish here once for always.[38] Besides, Leemans,
with whom I am staying, is a charming man; admirable alike in head and
heart, and full of ability in every direction. He helps me wherever he
can, and has already made Leyden a city of delight to me.”
In England he was most cordially received by Bunsen, who had resigned
his post at Rome, and left that city before our friend. The reason of
this was that he had not succeeded in making an amicable adjustment of
the ecclesiastical complications in Prussia (the quarrel at Cologne and
the imprisonment of the Bishop of Droste-Vischering). Lepsius had long
been adopted as a beloved comrade by the Bunsen family, and his letters
show what a hearty interest he felt in every member of it, especially in
the lad George, who was afterwards to become a prominent member of the
German National Assembly.
It was an easy thing for Bunsen, whose admirable wife was descended from
an English family of distinction, to smooth the way for Lepsius, not
only in London but throughout Great Britain, and to open to him the
doors of the best houses and of the collections most difficult of
access. In this way the young German scholar not only learned to know
English life on all sides, but also obtained admission to all the
collections of Egyptian antiquities, whether they belonged to the
government or to private individuals. He knew how to turn these
favorable opportunities to good account, and in all England there were
few hieroglyphic inscriptions which Lepsius did not carry away with him,
either in impressions or copies, when he quitted hospitable Albion. His
intercourse with Bunsen was especially delightful when he visited him at
beautiful Llanover, the country place of his mother-in-law, Mrs.
Waddington. Speaking of this subject, Hare says in his biography of the
Baroness von Bunsen, “The friends were accustomed to wander over the
hills for hours together in enthusiastic conversation about Egypt and
its antiquarian writings, or to sit in profound conversation in the
churchyard of Llanffoist under an oak tree a thousand years old.” They
had much to say of the affairs of the Roman Institute, which Lepsius
found to be very badly managed in England. The subscribers there had
received none of the publications for years, many of them not since
1830, and on this account had stopped paying their dues. Others had
supposed that the Institute had been dissolved, and the difficult task
of correcting these errors and determining and collecting the arrears
fell to Lepsius. His plan of publishing a separate volume of annals in
London was not adopted, but he had the good fortune to secure S. Birch
as an assistant in the management, and the latter was now entrusted with
the affairs of the English section, in place of Millingen.
The conservative subject of the absolute monarch, Frederick William
III., also learned in Great Britain to know the advantages of civil
freedom and of parliamentary life.
He had much to settle with Bunsen himself regarding the work of which
they were to be the joint authors, and he wrote from London to his
faithful patron: “I have never labored with such love and devotion as
now at our, that is, at your work. For it is you who have conceived the
idea, and at the same time pointed out and assured its place in European
science; you have spun the thread of its life and given the framework
for the whole. Finally, you have provided the means for carrying it on,
and everything that I accomplish and record I only do according to your
ideas and for you, and as I work I naturally think of no other reader
than yourself. I see that I must visit you to get you to give me a few
quiet days in which we can come to a definitive understanding and
agreement about the impending publication.”
Bunsen labored at the part of the work which fell to his share, as
Lepsius at his, and the day seemed not far distant when the two would
compare, combine, and publish their manuscripts. But there had already
arisen many differences of opinion between the collaborators, and these
seemed particularly important in the department of chronology, where
Lepsius was to execute the lion’s share of the labor. While Bunsen, as
was afterwards proved, reposed far too much confidence in the list of
Eratosthenes, Lepsius had so high an estimate of Manetho as to place the
greatest confidence in those lists of the series of kings which he
considered the genuine work of that priest. He also made freer use of
the historical inscriptions and the data of ancient Egyptian origin,
(with which he had a much more intimate acquaintance than Bunsen), and
attributed to them far greater importance, than seemed justifiable to
the latter. The materials for his “Book of Kings” and his Chronology
developed, and took the form of independent works, and although both
were intended as a part of the book to be published in common by him
and Bunsen, they yet contained, as we perceive from the letters of that
period, a number of details which were in direct opposition to Bunsen’s
views. At the end of the year 1839 it was already difficult to
comprehend what path the fellow-workmen could pursue in order to arrive
at a practicable agreement.
The confidence which Lepsius inspired in the highest circles of English
society is shown by the circumstance that the Duke of Sutherland wished
to take him into his household as mentor and tutor to his son. But the
young scholar declined this flattering offer, which was associated with
great material advantages, and wrote to Bunsen: “My one-sided talent in
the dissection of organic structures has never been united with any
readiness for presenting things broadly, as is necessary in teaching,
and especially in teaching the young. Besides, I am not qualified for an
instructor, because I perceive every day that I myself have not yet
passed the season of education.”
These words sound somewhat strange on the lips of so thoughtful and able
a young man; he was then twenty-nine years old. But at that time he was
still striving after the ideal of life which hovered before him, and
such expressions were partly dictated by modesty, partly by the
disinclination which he had previously expressed for the vocation of a
pedagogue, and partly also by a longing for Egypt. During his stay in
England (1839) this became stronger and stronger.
After he had declined the offer of the Duke of Sutherland, he took
serious council with himself as to how his future should be spent, and
wrote to Bunsen: “A decision as to my immediate future is constantly
becoming more imperative. But no matter in what direction I send forth
my thoughts, not one of them brings me back the olive branch. I cut
myself off from Italy,” (by giving up his situation in the Institute at
Rome, although he was still to work for it in Germany), “I cannot stay
in England.” Bunsen had been appointed Prussian Ambassador to Bern, and
while in England Lepsius’ affections had become engaged, although he
would not yield to the impulse of his heart, as his uncertain future did
not permit him to woo a maiden who was apparently as poor as himself. “I
have nothing to do in France, and it would be too soon for me to go to
Germany. So Egypt is all that remains to me, and that is still the
pole-star in all my deliberations. Some day or other Egypt must be
devoured; this is my time, there is no war there now, etc. An Egyptian
journey would be a great recommendation for me afterwards in Germany. In
any case this would be the most natural course for my affairs to take.
Ought it not be possible to attain this goal in some way? The first and
most agreeable thought always leads to Berlin. Therefore, I ask you if
an extraordinary effort might not be made there. An urgent application
from you to the Crown Prince would be the main thing. I would appeal
especially to Humboldt. Gerhard would certainly be willing to undertake
the personal conduct of the affair. If this course seems to you entirely
impracticable, or if it miscarries, I must try to start from here.... If
the worst comes to the worst, I will raise the necessary money somewhere
or other in Germany, and go to Cairo at my own risk.”
In this letter, he gives open expression to the desire of his heart for
the first time. Bunsen thought him right, promised his young friend to
do everything possible in the affair, and in conjunction with Humboldt
to interest the Crown Prince, (soon afterwards Frederick William IV.),
in his Nile journey. But he begged his protégé not to be over-hasty, and
represented to him how detrimental it would be to break up their common
enterprise, as well as the undertakings begun by Lepsius alone. His
Umbrian and Oscan inscriptions finished at Rome, as well as two
treatises, were still to be printed; and the edition of his “Book of the
Dead,” besides several other things, was not yet concluded. Yet more,
previous to his departure the Egyptian chronology and lists of kings,
for which Bunsen was impatiently waiting, must be set in order, and the
German translation of Gaily Knight’s “Development of Architecture,” also
awaited its completion. This had been prepared by Lepsius’ father, and
he had himself undertaken to revise and provide it with an introduction.
The impatient young Egyptologist yielded to these monitions of his
experienced and benevolent patron, and in November, 1839, we see him
again among his family at Naumburg. The ensuing months he spent partly
in his native town, partly in Berlin, working indefatigably, while
Bunsen (who had meanwhile arrived at Bern as Prussian Ambassador), and
A. v. Humboldt exerted themselves to promote his Egyptian journey. The
great influence of the latter had only increased, since the Crown Prince
of Prussia, on June seventh, 1840, had ascended the throne as Frederick
William IV. Lepsius was permitted to enter into closer relations with
the famous friend of the King, as he satisfied Humboldt’s desire to
possess a list of the stones and metals mentioned in the hieroglyphic
texts. This he did in a fashion which surprised the natural philosopher,
who was ever hungry for knowledge, and filled him with gratitude.
Instead of a catalogue, Lepsius presented to him a treatise, of which he
says himself that the style in which it was written gave him great
pleasure. “These researches concerning stones,” he writes, “have brought
to light many a jewel for myself, which I have deposited in my
hieroglyphic store-chamber.” All that he then acquired remained lying
there until, in 1871, it celebrated its resurrection in his model
dissertation on the metals in Egyptian inscriptions.
The proposition made to him at this time to enter the Foreign Office,
and devote himself to a diplomatic career, he declined positively and
without long consideration.
In Naumburg was completed the printing of Gally Knight’s work,[39] and
of the introduction by Lepsius. This fills forty-six pages, and treats
of the extensive employment of the pointed arch in Germany as early as
the tenth and eleventh century. His observations begin with the Naumburg
cathedral, which his father had studied with special thoroughness, and
where he had actually found pointed arches of the eleventh century.
This introduction raised a great deal of dust, and when, thirteen years
afterwards, Lepsius wished to carry through an affair of importance with
the King, the royal adviser on art matters at that time, was not well
disposed towards him, because in the views of Lepsius on the early
application of the pointed arch in Germany, he saw an attack upon his
own opinions. For the rest, the note-books of the Egyptologist, full of
architectural drawings, and his letters to his father, show that in all
his subsequent journeys he paid the keenest attention to all the
edifices which he met, and when he was in a position to construct a
house for himself, he built it in the English-Gothic style, and placed
his beloved pointed arch over the doors and windows.
Meanwhile, he also published two smaller academical treatises.
In the winter of 1841, he undertook a new journey to Italy across the
Alps, which were covered with snow and ice. The exclusive object of this
was to complete the editing of the “Book of the Dead,” which had been
already prepared, and which was mentioned above on page 95. As a
well-known scholar and member of the board of directors of the
Archaeological Institute at Rome he was now received at Turin with
particular consideration, and had freely placed at his disposal a new
copy of the great Turin “Book of the Dead,” which had been brought
thither by Barucchi, the manager of the museum. But this was not
sufficient for him, and there was still much for him to do before his
own copy gained that accuracy which distinguishes it.
“I ought to leave here to-morrow in order to keep to the time fixed
upon,” he writes to Bunsen, on February 18, 1841; “but it is not
possible for me to finish yet. I need at least two days more to complete
all that is of most importance. I go to the museum at half-past eight;
they are not up there before that; I stay there the whole day, except
from four till quarter of five, my meal-time; from the table I go back
again and work until ten or half-past ten o’clock. I cannot work at the
great papyrus by candlelight, for fear of injuring something, but then,
I have the finest things to look over to select for copying, all of
which I had not found when I was here first.” Altogether, he now
perceived that during his former visit much had been intentionally
withheld from him; this time everything was entrusted to him, and he
made the most profitable use, for his chronological purposes especially,
of the large “Papyrus of the Kings.” He had busts cast in plaster, from
the finest images of the Pharaohs, for the Berlin museum, and amongst
the treasures of Turin the idea occurred to him of publishing the most
important records of the time of the Pharaohs as a separate work. This
accordingly appeared in 1842.[40]
He employed the draughtsmen Weidenbach before mentioned, on this work
and on the edition of the “Book of the Dead,” and he expressed to Bunsen
his delight over the great progress made by these artists on the path
which he had indicated to them.
On his way home he visited Bunsen in Bern, spent several happy days in
the circle of the ambassador’s family, and then tarried for some time in
Munich, where v. Zech was his “cicerone,” and where he established
relations with Cornelius and other men of celebrity. He enjoyed the most
frequent and agreeable intercourse with Schelling, of whom he says “his
nature is as great as it is lovely.” The latter had just accepted a call
to Berlin, (at first for one year only) and Lepsius says he was going
thither with great hopes of success and of exercising a salutary
influence. “He is convinced beforehand of the victory of his good cause,
since it is not a question of bare negation and opposition, such as he
reproaches Stahl with, (who only filched from him), but he has something
to advance which is new and positive, and will make a place for itself.
He must either be refuted, or he must convince and prevail. As,
according to his firm conviction, he cannot be refuted, the latter must
take place. Besides the foregoing alternatives, it is true that another
occurred to me, but about that I naturally kept silence. Good fortune to
him!”
Refreshed and satisfied with the results of this journey he devoted
himself at home with all his energy to the editing of the Umbrian and
Oscan inscriptions[41] which he had collected in Rome.
In the following year two more of the fruits of his Italian labors came
to maturity,[42] and were received with universal commendation.
One sees with what bee-like industry he made use of this time of
waiting. This was duly recognized, for before he set out on the Egyptian
journey, he was appointed Professor Extraordinary at the University of
Berlin, and thus the first chair of Egyptology was founded at that
university. There was already a similar one at Leipsic, but the improper
course adopted by Seyffarth, for whom it had been founded, gave little
encouragement to other universities to extend support to Egyptologic
studies. In this way it had happened that Lepsius’ proposition, that a
professorship in the Berlin University should be conferred upon him, had
been rejected; but Humboldt had recognized the qualifications of the
applicant, and in 1841, as soon as he returned home from a protracted
stay in Paris, he interested himself in the matter. As usual, he carried
through what he desired, and on the twenty-sixth of January, 1842,
Lepsius received the appointment as Professor Extraordinary of
Egyptology, and in addition, the grant of a small salary. It is true
that the newly appointed Professor could not begin to lecture; for the
completion and publication of the works mentioned above claimed much of
his time, and the preparations for the Egyptian journey still more.
Frederick William IV., of Prussia, was a monarch whose unpractical,
romantic disposition took the greatest delight, not only in the
luxuriant, many-colored, fragrant bloom of Indian civilization, but also
in the mysterious and immemorial magic of the Egyptian. He had given
willing audience to Humboldt and to Bunsen. The ambassador had been
exchanged from Bern to London in 1841, especially in order that he might
carry out the wishes of his master regarding the evangelical episcopate
in Jerusalem. Both these men were in particularly close relation with
the king, and on this account they were more likely than any others to
succeed in winning the monarch over to Lepsius’ project of travelling.
Already, as Crown Prince, the King had acquired the Passalacqua
collection of Egyptian antiquities, as well as negotiated for the
purchase of other similar collections.[43] He had taken pains to place
this treasure in the Monbijou palace at Berlin, and entrusted the care
of it to Passalacqua. In his youth the scientific event of the
deciphering of hieroglyphics had excited his special attention, and
Bunsen, who had long been in close relations with him, both as a man and
as his most eminent statesman, had been assiduous in preserving his
interest in Egyptian antiquity. He had kept the monarch informed as to
the progress of Egyptology, before his own protégé had even thought of
undertaking a voyage on the Nile.
Humboldt now joined with Bunsen to induce the king to bestow his
powerful support upon the young Prussian, who, even at that time, might
be considered the most worthy of Champollion’s successors.
Lepsius had his plans to make; Humboldt talked over each separate point
with him in the most careful manner, and thus there ripened in them both
the wish, to transform the journey of a single scholar into a scientific
expedition. Lepsius must of course keep the leadership, and there was
also committed to him the choice of those persons to be especially
employed in carrying out his own purposes. But he had to consult with
Humboldt on the greater or less fitness and necessity for the
appointment of the corps of assistants who were to be taken, as well as
on the capabilities of each single member of the expedition. He had to
submit to him exact estimates, both in writing and by word of mouth, in
regard to the prospective expenses and the time to be consumed, as well
as of all that he hoped to gain, and the collections which he expected
to make on the way, before Humboldt would undertake to present to the
king the “memorial” which had been drawn up for the purpose, and to
influence him to the final decision.
Lepsius had designated, as one of the principal objects of his journey,
the collection of beautiful and interesting monuments of the time of the
Pharaohs, to be added as a new embellishment to the Egyptian museum in
the palace of Monbijou at Berlin. This purpose of the expedition, which
Humboldt knew how to dilate upon, won the entire approbation of the
King, and accordingly he approved the contents of the “memorial” which
had been presented to him, endowed the expedition with abundant
pecuniary resources, and commended it, and especially its leader, by
means of a warm autograph letter, to the great Muhamed ‘Ali, who at that
time ruled over the valley of the Nile with a strong hand. He also
bestowed upon the travellers superb vases, from the porcelain
manufactory at Berlin, as a gift for Muhamed ‘Ali, in order to lay the
viceroy himself under an obligation and to secure for the expedition the
favor of that monarch.
Everything was now ready for the departure, but before Lepsius started
he had to set his affairs in order. Several undertakings had been
brought to a successful issue, and all the most important preparatory
work was finished for the book which he and Bunsen were to publish in
concert. Yet it was this very enterprise which filled him with the
greatest solicitude. Frankly and honorably he disclosed to his revered
patron everything that disturbed him, in the admirable letter in which
he tried to induce Bunsen, to absolve him from co-operation in the work
which they had planned. The differences of opinion between them had
become more and more sharply defined, and the elder scholar had been as
little able to convince the younger, as the younger to convince him. It
seemed to Lepsius impossible to present side by side two different
opinions in a work which must yet pretend to unity of thought. He justly
attributed to Bunsen the most magnificent ability for the handling of
great historical problems; but considering his wide command of this
field, and that in chronology also he was able to pursue his way
independently, Lepsius regarded his own intervention as a mistake, both
practically and essentially. He was indeed most disturbed by the
circumstance that no one would be in a position to distinguish between
his and Bunsen’s work, whence they must both be subjected to erroneous
criticisms. He, Lepsius, wished to reserve his manuscript till the
completion of his travels; Bunsen would soon be able to send his work to
press. He besought the latter not to wait till his own return from the
journey, but to proceed independently without delay, and to use as
entirely his own, all the material regarding which they had come to an
agreement. To put it off would only be to renew the old doubts, and to
begin afresh the conflict which had been once waged without result. He
would be ready and glad (and this promise he fulfilled), to make an
abstract for him of all the names of kings written in hieroglyphics, and
prepare them for the press.
Thus, in the work entitled “Egypt’s Place in Universal History,” the
first volume of which was published in 1845, before Lepsius’ return from
Egypt, the whole historical statement, which takes the loftiest point of
view and is rich in novel and suggestive ideas, is entirely Bunsen’s own
work. His young friend only placed at his disposal much historical and
chronological information, which he had happened upon in the course of
his researches among the monuments.
It is unquestionable that if the fellow-laborers had adhered to their
original plan, and had not separated, Bunsen’s work would have gained a
more stable foundation and assumed a much calmer and more succinct shape
than it actually had. The stream of Bunsen’s eloquence, which was often
too glittering and too diffuse, would have been confined within bounds
by the conciseness and severity of Lepsius. His aspirations after
grandeur and breath, would have been kept down to earth by Lepsius’
fidelity and care for the smallest detail.
The candor of the letter in which Lepsius abandons the enterprise, and
the manner in which Bunsen took the withdrawal of his protégé, do them
both the highest honor, and this incident never in the least disturbed
the friendly relation between them.[44] Lepsius, when he could finally
leave Berlin, went by way of London, was received there in the most
affectionate manner by Bunsen, and accompanied by him to Southampton,
where on the first of September, 1842, the young Egyptologist embarked
for Alexandria. Together they had thoroughly talked over all that might
be attained and all that might be gained, before the steamship weighed
anchor.
THE PRUSSIAN EXPEDITION TO EGYPT, UNDER THE DIRECTION OF LEPSIUS.
On the eighteenth of September, 1842, after a stormy passage through the
Bay of Biscay and a short stay in Gibraltar and Malta, Lepsius, who was
proof against sea-sickness, and had been perfectly well throughout the
voyage, first set his foot upon Egyptian soil at Alexandria.
The choice of his companions had been fortunate, and answered perfectly
to the needs of the expedition. We will first mention Erbkam, an
excellently trained young architect, distantly related to Lepsius, who
was to make surveys, and draw maps and sketches. He showed himself so
entirely equal to the task that the architectural and topographical
drawings executed by him under the direction of Lepsius have long been
acknowledged to be model productions and faultlessly correct.[45] We
have already said all that is necessary of Lepsius’ Naumberg
fellow-countrymen, the brothers Weidenbach, and their work as
hierogrammatists. Lepsius had made the acquaintance of the painter Frey,
from Basle, when in Rome. In the book on monuments, which will be
described hereafter, many of the beautiful colored landscapes and
architectural pictures from lower Egypt are by him; others are by the
Dresden painter, George, a jovial and talented artist, who joined the
expedition after Frey had become seriously ill, and been sent home.
The moulder, Franke, at first rendered excellent service by making casts
of such monuments as could not be brought away, and by preparing the
many thousands of paper impressions which it was necessary to take of
the inscriptions and bas reliefs. But subsequently he had to be
dismissed and sent home on account of inadmissible conduct.
The expedition was also accompanied by H. Abeken of Osnabrück, who had
been with Bunsen, first at Rome and then at London, as chaplain of the
Prussian Embassy. He had made the acquaintance of the leader of the
expedition on the Tiber, and was closely associated with him during the
remainder of his life. Under the guidance of Lepsius he occupied himself
with Egyptological studies, even after he had relinquished theology and
entered the diplomatic service. This is the same Abeken, diplomatic
Privy Counsellor and Acting Counsellor, who afterwards accompanied
Prince Bismarck to France during the war of 1870-1, and proved of great
service there. On the tenth of December, 1842, he joined the expedition
in which he served incidentally as chaplain. He was the most agreeable
companion to Lepsius, “with his invariably cheerful temper,” and his
“witty and learned conversation.”[46]
With these Germans were associated two Englishmen. The first was the
sculptor Bonomi, who at that time had already won celebrity as a
traveler in Egypt and Ethiopia, and of whom Lepsius himself said: “he is
not only full of practical knowledge about the life there, but he is
also a connoisseur in Egyptian art, and a master of Egyptian
drawing.”[47] The second was the young and “genial” architect Wild, who
was of great assistance to Erbkam.
The leader of the expedition had himself scarcely passed his
thirty-first year, and was so young and vigorous, that when he desired
to hire a kavass, that is, a Turkish constable, to superintend the
servants, the intercourse with the authorities, etc., he wrote home: “In
Europe I should have felt more than sufficient confidence in my own
ability to manage the entire practical conduct of the expedition.” He
had, besides, sovereign command of the most thorough scholarship in all
those departments wherein the expedition was intended to add to existing
knowledge.
He had garnered the whole harvest to be reaped in Europe from every
field of Egyptian archaeology, and all that could be gathered anew from
the banks of the Nile only needed to be stored in the receptacles which,
already set apart and half-filled, stood ready for the expected gains.
The conditions under which he traveled, and studied the localities of
the monuments, were such as to fill us later investigators with envy.
For in 1842, there was no museum of Boulak, which now lawfully claims
all antiquities from Egyptian soil as soon as they are brought to the
light of day. At that time there existed only the first beginnings of a
collection of Egyptian monuments, and these had no supervisor nor
director.
The subsisting law against the exportation of antiquities was set aside
in favor of Lepsius, compulsory labor was not yet abolished, and
Muhamed ‘Ali, who governed in his viceroyalty with the irresponsible
power of an absolute despot, wished to extend every assistance to the
expedition. He caused a firman to be issued for Lepsius, which gave him
unconditional permission to make any excavations which he might consider
desirable. All the local authorities were charged to assist him in his
undertakings, and Lepsius said that by means of the kavasses who had
been assigned to him by the government, and on the strength of the
firman, they obtained from the sheiks of the nearest villages and the
mudirs of the provinces all the workmen and appliances needed for making
and transporting his collection of antiquities. The necessary payments
had of course to be made, but they never met with a refusal. At Fayoum,
for instance, he employed a hundred and eight workmen in the excavation
of the building which he considered to be the Labyrinth. Each man
received two copper piasters a day (about twenty pfennige) and each
child ten pfennige, or, if it was very industrious, fifteen pfennige, a
day. Besides this some bread was given them. Under such conditions great
things may be accomplished with comparatively small means.
Nowadays it is only under exceptional circumstances, and within
carefully prescribed limits, that a European is permitted to make
excavations. The laborers ask quite a high price,--in Thebes I had to
pay each man six full piasters (one mark, twenty pfennige)--and, if one
disinters any monuments, even under the most favorable circumstances,
only such single specimens are permitted to leave the country as the
vice-regal museum is already rich in. Lepsius was more fortunately
situated. The monuments which he found in Ethiopia and wished to add to
his collection were brought from Mount Barcal to Alexandria on
government vessels, and to these were also added three tombs, from the
neighborhood of the pyramids of Ghizeh, which had been carefully taken
to pieces with the help of four workmen sent expressly for the purpose
from Berlin. On his departure from Egypt he received a special written
permit for the removal of the collection, and the objects obtained were
themselves presented to King Frederick William IV. of Prussia, by
Muhamed ‘Ali.
With full authority to take possession of all that might embellish the
Berlin collection, Lepsius appropriated what was most desirable and most
interesting wherever he found it, and ventured, as we have seen, to
remove whole tombs from the necropolis of ancient Memphis to the Spree.
This could not be done without injury to the adjoining tombs, as they
had consisted of a number of rooms collectively, and envy, ill-will and
stupidity were quickly at hand to accuse the Prussian expedition of
having, like impious Vandals, plundered and injured the monuments in
pursuit of their own purposes. But this accusation was entirely
unfounded, and any one who knows the condition of Egypt at that time can
only rejoice that so many treasures, which were neglected and exposed to
wanton destruction in their native country, were at a favorable moment
removed to Europe and preserved in a fine public museum.
No farther assurance is needed that Lepsius and his companions neither
laid hands upon nor destroyed a single stone unnecessarily, but it will
be expedient to mention here that since the French expedition and the
completion of the great work on monuments prepared by it, a series of
ancient edifices portrayed therein have vanished from the earth.
Between our first and second visit to the Nile an interesting little
temple at Erment had been turned into a sugar factory, and in the same
space of time the fine remains of a Grecian portico of white marble,
which had adorned the old Bes-Antinoopolis, had found their way to the
lime-kiln. This could occur at a time when the monuments were lovingly
and jealously guarded by the vigilant eye of Mariette, and hence it is
easy to conjecture what dangers threatened them as long as they were
left entirely at the mercy of every encroachment of the fellahin.
In a letter from the necropolis of Memphis, long before the
above-mentioned accusations were brought against him, Lepsius wrote: “It
is really shocking to see how every day whole trains of camels come here
from the neighboring villages, and march back again in long files, laden
with building stones. Fortunately,--for everything is fortunate under
some circumstances,--the lazy fellahin are more attracted by the
Psamatik tombs than by those of the oldest dynasties, whose big blocks
are too unwieldly for them.”
Therefore we may confidently designate the removal to Berlin, just at
that time, of the three tombs from Memphis and the other monuments, as
an act of protection. Only the pillar which Lepsius removed from the
perfectly preserved tomb of Seti I. at Thebes, should have been left in
its place.
The travellers, filled with enthusiasm for their task, had a long and
difficult journey to take in the course of their investigations and
search for spoils. It led them all, by ships, upon the backs of camels,
and on foot, with many delays and digressions, into the heart of the
African continent, as far as Khartoum at the junction of the two sources
of the Nile. Then, alone except for the company of Abeken, Lepsius
sailed on up the Blue River as far as the village of Romali, between
Sennar, the celebrated ancient capital of the Sudan, which he visited,
and Fazokl.
The last letter from our wayfarer is dated from Smyrna, and was written
on the seventh of December, 1845, much more than three years after his
arrival at Alexandria. From the very first, a long period of traveling
had been contemplated, and the leader had taken pains to establish his
own position with regard to the whole party, and the rights and duties
of each individual member of it, as well as to provide for “suitable
intellectual diet.” The commanding nature of his distinguished and
imposing personality had, if we except the excesses of the moulder
Franke, obviated throughout the whole time any illegitimate opposition
to, or rebellion against, his position as chief. How justly, kindly and
wisely this was maintained may best be shown by the friendship and
attachment manifested towards him till death by Abeken, Erbkam, the
Weidenbachs, and all the other members of the expedition, with the
exception of Franke.
And this is no light matter, for nowhere do disagreements of every kind
occur more readily than among a small party, who, separated from their
native civilization, have to endure, in addition to many deprivations,
the burden of an enervating climate; and who, tormented by discomforts,
fatigue, and homesickness, yield only too easily to gloomy and
discontented moods, beneath whose spell it is hard to be just and to
submit cheerfully to the will of another. Lepsius himself says that from
the beginning he tried to diversify the life of his party, and
especially the irksome and very monotonous work of his artists, not only
by the weekly holiday of Sunday, but also, as often as an opportunity
offered, by cheerful merry-makings and pleasant diversions.
One must himself have lived and worked in the Orient, far from the
bustle of cities, to appreciate what it is to pass on from days to weeks
and from weeks to months as on a monotonous road without
stopping-places. In such a place and at such times one feels the
blessing of our Sunday holiday, and Lepsius’ fellow-travellers would
certainly have fallen a prey to fatigue and disgust during their long
period of traveling and working together, if their chief had not
observed the feasts and holidays peculiar to their own country, and had
not kindly and judiciously taken account of their spiritual needs. One
of the most beautiful memories of our own life is that of the moment
when, after many months of wandering through Moslem lands, we
unexpectedly heard a church bell ring on Christmas day. It was long,
long since we had listened to the sound, and for the first time we fully
appreciated its elevating loveliness, when standing in front of the
little Protestant church in Upper Egypt from whose modest tower it
resounded.
Like a thirsty man after a cool drink, we returned to our labors with
fresh pleasure and fresh enthusiasm. The Sunday holiday of the Prussian
expedition not only recompensed and blessed them with the necessary
rest, but kept them in communion with the life of their dear ones at
home.
It would exceed the limits prescribed for this biography if we should
follow from spot to spot the travels, excavations, researches and
collections of the party led by Lepsius. He has himself relieved us of
this very tempting task, for his “Letters from Egypt, Ethiopia and the
Peninsula of Sinai,”[48] is a book which can and should be read with
pleasure and profit even by the general reader. It is by no means
confined to the results of his scientific investigations, but makes the
reader familiar also with the personal experiences of the author, and is
distinguished by a clear, concise, vivid and often charming style. It is
in many respects a book of importance for his fellow laborers in the
same department, since it places them in living contact with the sources
whence sprang many of the most important discoveries and works of the
author.
During his long stay at the necropolis of Memphis he succeeded in
elucidating the details of the history of the “Old Empire.” The
intuition by which he separated the twelfth dynasty from the
eighteenth,[49] assigned its correct place to the incursion of the
Hyksos, and even anticipated all that afterwards received documentary
corroboration by Dümichen’s discovery of the great Tablet of the Kings
at Abydos, will ever remain an intellectual feat worthy of admiration.
From Memphis he undertook, with the assistance of Erbkam’s technical
knowledge, to investigate the architectural system employed in the
construction of the pyramids. The results were recorded, even before the
close of the journey, in a dissertation in which the subject was treated
in the most fundamental manner.[50] These conclusions have been
maintained against all attacks, and even against the attempt to modify
them made by the excellent Perrot. In this work Lepsius confirms and
explains the statement of Herodotus that the pyramids were completed
from above downwards, and were built “in successive steps.” The work
cited also contains a well considered and convincing answer to that
other question which presents itself to the thoughtful observer of
these remarkable monuments. As soon as a Pharaoh ascended the throne he
began the construction of his mausoleum. It was at first of modest
dimensions, since he erected, as a nucleus of the whole, a truncated
pyramid with steep sides, and in doing so often took advantage of the
natural rocks. When he was overtaken by death, the pinnacle was first
placed upon this nucleus, and its inclined sides were then continued to
the ground. If time and power were still left after the completion of
the first nucleus and before the pinnacle was set on, the truncated
pyramid was invested with a new outer layer in the form of steps, and so
it was continued until a point was reached where each new addition
constituted of itself a gigantic labor. Whenever the time came to bring
the monument to completion it was always necessary first to set on the
pinnacle; the steps lying nearest to it were then filled out, and
finally those at the bottom. There are pyramids of all sizes, and what
we have said explains how it came to pass that one king erected for
himself a monument of prodigious dimensions, while another was contented
with one much smaller; why we can only point to two unfinished pyramids,
and how Cheops, the builder of the largest pyramid, found courage to
undertake a work for the execution of which the average duration of a
reign would in no wise suffice, while yet the completion of it could not
be exacted of his successors, who would have their own mausoleums to
provide for. Everything is made clear, if we assume with Lepsius that
the size of the pyramid was regulated by the duration of its builder’s
life, and that the latter had it in his power at any time to complete
the work.
Lepsius believed that he had found the Labyrinth at Fayoum, and he was
perhaps right in so thinking. But, even if this remarkable ancient
building should be re-discovered on some other site of the old “lake
country,” yet to Lepsius would still belong the credit of having
determined the position of Lake Moeris, first indicated by Linant de
Bellefonds, and of having proved that the Pharaoh Amenemha III., of the
twelfth dynasty, was the Moeris of the Greeks.[51] He also was the first
to investigate and make known all that was accomplished by this prince
in regulating the inundation of the Nile.
We know that his researches in Egypt and Ethiopia extended even beyond
the limits of the region of monuments. Within that zone he has, if we
may be allowed the expression, left no corner unexplored. He met with
the most abundant returns at Beni Hassan, Thebes, (especially upon the
return journey) Gebel Silsile, the island of Philae, Abu Simbel on the
second cataract, among the ruins of Ethiopian Meroë far in the South,
and also on the peninsula of Sinai.
Within the bounds of the temple of Isis, on the lovely island beyond the
first cataract, he made a succession of discoveries, upon which he
afterwards based great and original works. He first found here an
ecclesiastical ordinance,[52] similar to the decree of Rosetta, drawn
up in two languages, that is in hieroglyphics, and also in the demotic
(popular) writing and language. The numerous names of the Ptolemies,
which occurred in the inscriptions of the temple of Isis, also impelled
him to study more thoroughly the succession of the Egyptian kings of the
house of the Lagidae and to determine finally the order of this series
of rulers, of such great importance for the history of other
countries.[53] Here, as everywhere, he paid special attention to the
Greek inscriptions, which are very numerous on Philae. By his sagacity
and quick insight great additions were made to the Egypto-Grecian
inscriptions previously collected by Letronne and others. Those which
had been previously known received manifold corrections and additions
owing to the extreme accuracy peculiar to him. He afterwards devoted a
special treatise to the hieroglyphic form of the name of the
Ionians.[54]
On the return journey he was not able to stop for as long a time as he
had desired in the well-preserved Ptolemaic temples of Denderah and
Edfu. These are thickly covered with inscriptions, and therefore he left
behind him at those places, for Dümichen, Mariette, Naville, Brugsch and
other Egyptologists, not only rich gleanings, but really the greater
part of the substantial work still to be accomplished. But his attention
was especially attracted in Edfu by an inscription which was afterwards
to be of great service to him. In it were recorded the possessions in
landed property of this temple during the reign of Ptolemy XI.
(Alexander I.)[55] The surface measures which occurred in it he was
afterwards able to use to advantage in his studies on the linear and
square measures of the ancient Egyptians.
After the expedition had passed the first cataract and entered the
Nubian dominion the leader not only turned his attention to the remains
of the temples there, which had as yet been examined in a very
insufficient manner, but he also, with indefatigable industry, devoted
himself to studying the languages of all the tribes on whose territories
he touched. The description which he gives of the Nubian language, in a
letter from Korusko, dated the thirtieth of November, 1843, presents
with extreme conciseness the essential characteristics of this
remarkable idiom. In his farther travels towards the south he afterwards
investigated all the dialects of this same group of languages, and
acquired such an excellent knowledge of it that he could venture, at a
later date, to publish a translation of the Gospel according to St. Mark
in Nubian.[56] In publishing this translation he made use of the
standard alphabet which he had himself invented and which has been
previously mentioned. Indeed it was on this account that he first began
the difficult task of preparing the universal alphabet, which he was
afterwards asked to extend to a great number of languages for various
special purposes. During the journey he prepared a grammar and
dictionary of three dialects; the Nuba language spoken by the Nuba or
Berber tribe, the Kungara language of the negroes of Dar-Fur, and the
Béga language of the Bischarin inhabiting the eastern Sudan. This he did
so perfectly that he himself hoped that the publication of these works
would at least afford a clear idea of the languages mentioned. After his
return home he continued to pursue these studies unremittingly, and thus
obtained that profound insight into all the idioms of the African
continent, which gives its great and permanent importance to his last
long work, the Nubian Grammar, to which we shall again refer. Lepsius at
first devoted himself with special ardor to the study of those languages
which in his own day still flourished on the domain of the ancient
Ethiopians, because he cherished a firm hope of finding in them the key,
by which to decipher the popular writing of the Ethiopians, many
examples of which he had discovered on the site of ancient Meroë. This
writing is intended to be read from right to left, and the words are
always separated by two points. But its significance is unsolved up to
the present time. In deciphering the demotic-Ethiopian inscriptions
little assistance is to be looked for from the Ethiopian-hieroglyphic
as, whatever strange variations these may contain, they correspond
almost entirely to the Egyptian, in form as well as in the language
which underlies them. Like our own Latin inscriptions, they are composed
in the writing and language of an alien people. As we shall see, Lepsius
afterwards became convinced that the key to the Ethiopian-demotic
inscriptions of which we speak was not to be sought in the Nubian, but
in the Cushite Bischariba language.
On the domain of ancient Meroë everything was still to be done, for
Cailliaud, through whom the monuments there had first become known, had
seen and described them without technical knowledge of the subject. It
was, therefore, reserved for Lepsius to dissipate, once for all, the
popular conjectures of a “splendid primeval Meroë,” whose inhabitants
had been the predecessors of the Egyptians and their instructors in
civilization. He proved that all the native monuments which had been
preserved there dated from a relatively late period, which should not be
fixed before the time of the Ethiopian Pharaohs of the twenty-fifth
dynasty. The majority, he considered, could be assigned to a much later
period and had scarcely originated previous to the first century before
Christ. The little to be found dating from an earlier age owed its
existence to the Pharaohs and their artists.
The fine granite rams which bear the name of Amenophis III., (eighteenth
dynasty), and one of which at present adorns the Berlin museum, were
transported thither at a later period. They came, probably, from Soleb.
Ninety-two fellahin spent three sultry days in dragging down to the Nile
on rollers the “fat sheep” which weighed one hundred and fifty hundred
weight, and was to be transported to the Spree.
Lepsius advised the purchase for the Berlin museum of the gold and
silver ornaments discovered in 1834, by the Italian Romali. They were
found in a pyramid at Meroë which had a Roman vaulted antechamber. This
advice Lepsius gave after he recognized that they had probably belonged
to a specially powerful and warlike Ethiopian queen, whose image has
been preserved at El-Naga in rich attire, and with pointed finger nails,
nearly an inch long. At present the ornaments mentioned form one of the
embellishments of the Egyptian collection at Berlin.
An entertaining anecdote is connected with the so-called Ferlini
discovery at Meroë, and with the recollection of the sojourn of the
expedition and their labors there. The natives, naturally, could only
regard as treasure-seekers the strange men who busied themselves so
indefatigably among the old monuments, who applied measuring line and
rule to them, covered them with wet paper, poured plaster over them,
gazed at them, note book and pen in hand, and penetrated into their
innermost recesses.
When one of our colleagues afterwards visited this neighborhood, an old
sheik told him that he knew well that the King of the Germans had only
acquired the resources to vanquish the French, through the treasures
which the Howadji Lepsius had found at Meroë and sent back to his native
land.
Lepsius’ sojourn in Ethiopia led him to the conviction, only confirmed
by all subsequent investigations, that there could have been no ancient
and original Ethiopian civilization and culture. In respect to this, all
the reports of the ancients which do not rest upon a pure
misunderstanding refer only to _Egyptian_ culture and art, which,
during the dominion of the Hyksos, had taken refuge in Ethiopia. The
outbreak of the Egyptian power from Ethiopia at the founding of the New
Egyptian Kingdom, and its advance even far into Asia, was transferred
from the Ethiopian _country_ to the Ethiopian _people_, first in the
Asiatic and afterwards in the Greek traditions respecting this event;
for no knowledge had penetrated to the northern peoples of a still older
Egyptian Kingdom, and its proud but peaceful prime.
During the long journey which led the expedition once more northward,
and towards home, and which was now uninterrupted by side excursions, a
number of short inscriptions on the rock were discovered at Semneh[57]
and Kummeh. These yielded important historical information, for they
proved that the solicitude of Amenemha III. (the Moeris of the Greeks,
twelfth dynasty), for the regulation of the inundation of the Nile had
extended to this point; that the Sebekhotep must be added, as the
thirteenth dynasty, to the twelfth, and that four thousand years ago the
river rose higher by twenty-four feet than it does in our day.
The principal purpose of the expedition, the one which Lepsius ever kept
in view, and which decided the choice of the monuments to be copied, was
historical. When he could believe that he had achieved everything
possible in pursuance of this object, he felt that he might consider
himself satisfied. If we remember this we can easily understand how he
was almost wearied by the examination of those temples belonging to the
Ptolemaic and Roman periods which he inspected cursorily before coming
to Thebes; these were Philae, Kom Ombos, Edfu, Esneh, Erment. We can see
especially that the inexhaustible but more lately built temple of Edfu
could detain him but for a disproportionately short time. But in Thebes,
which he reached more than two years after leaving Europe, he found once
more the old delight in, and impulse for, research, and he could
therefore write, in a letter dated November twenty-fourth, 1844; “Here,
where the Homeric figures of the mighty Pharaohs of the eighteenth and
nineteenth dynasties meet me in all their splendor and magnificence, I
feel once more as fresh as at the beginning of the journey.” And one
must credit his assurance, and profoundly admire the man’s elasticity
and enthusiasm for his task, when one surveys the great treasure of
inscriptions which he and his assistants amassed there, and the wealth
of admirable surveys, maps, sketches, and pictures, which the expedition
found time to execute. Five and a half months he devoted to Thebes, and
did not leave off until there, too, he had attained his purpose,
although he was already on his homeward way and surrounded by
unspeakable difficulties and privations, while before him, on the
contrary, beckoned with outstretched hands everything to which his heart
clung, and which could bring him peace, recreation, honor and spiritual
refreshment.
His friend Abeken had been forced to leave him at Philae, and although
there was no lack of occasional European visitors in Thebes, yet it
would have been natural if his taste for travel had by this time abated.
But, on the contrary, his passion for research seems just then to have
gained a new impetus, and the trip which he undertook from Thebes to the
Peninsula of Sinai, after indicating the course to be followed during
his absence by the members of the expedition in their various labors,
was begun and carried through as though he had just quitted his native
land, with an immense surplus stock of energy and enthusiasm.
Accompanied only by the younger Weidenbach and the necessary servants,
he chose to proceed from Keneh to the Red Sea, not by the usual caravan
route, but by the road through the midst of the mountains to
Gebel-es-Set. This promised to save time, and he hoped to find on it
something interesting and new.
In the Wadi Hammamat the Arabs refused to follow him upon this route,
which was destitute of water, little known, and not free from danger.
But he succeeded in inducing them to consent, and came within a
hair’s-breadth of losing his life when, in his search for the porphyry
quarries, he went astray on Gebel Dukhan, the _Mons porphyrites_ of the
ancients. But he was not the man to resign easily a scientific prize
when he beheld it before him, and therefore we see him, though scarcely
escaped from destruction, begin his search anew, and once more attain
his aim.
He had ordered a ship to be ready at Gebel-es-Set, and thence he went
across the Red Sea to Tur. His companion, Weidenbach, is now living in
Australia, in easy circumstances, and we can readily understand the sigh
with which he declared that this was the most fatiguing part of all the
journey, when we consider that Lepsius was obliged to limit his whole
sojourn upon the Peninsula of Sinai to the time between the twenty-first
of March and the sixth of April, and observe, from his other
writings,[58] as well as the great work on monuments, all that he
accomplished in that period. With this must be included, too, all the
inscriptions and designs which he copied. The days began at sunrise, and
before the travellers lay down to their brief sleep in the evening all
that had been discovered through the day had to be reduced to order and
set down in writing.
Lepsius visited only a small portion of the Peninsula of Sinai, but with
the exception of the neighborhood of Petra, it was the most interesting
part, and he explored it in every direction with diligence and sagacity.
He copied or took home with him in the shape of casts whatever Egyptian
inscriptions or paintings of interest he found there, and he afterwards
published, from his excellent paper casts, many of those incisions upon
the rocks of the Peninsula of Sinai which are known by the name of the
Nabathean Inscriptions. The most important elevations in that locality
were all ascended by him, and he took from their summits the points of
the compass, for the cartographic works to be undertaken in the future.
His sagacity and erudition established that which the king of Oriental
travellers, Burckhardt, had suspected before him, namely, that the
mountain from which the Law was given was not the Gebel-Musa group,
which is at present held to be the Sinai of the Scriptures, but the
magnificent Serbal. The author of this biography, during his own journey
to Sinai, was also obliged to adopt the view of Lepsius; he furnished
fresh arguments to confirm it,[59] and is of the opinion that sooner or
later it must be generally accepted as correct, in spite of the
opposition which it still encounters on many sides.
After Lepsius had returned to Thebes from this excursion, he wrote to
Bunsen: “Fortunately the journey to Sinai now lies behind us, and in
truth I am heartily glad of it, not only because it was the hardest and
most dangerous part of our whole pilgrimage, but also because it
presented the most important and difficult problems which still remained
to be solved on our return journey. Now nothing remains but the
departure from Thebes and from Cairo; and, this, too, is only a question
of getting ready to leave, there is nothing more of importance to be
undertaken. When I consider all the material which we have collected in
the three years it almost terrifies me, for I shall never be in a
position to work it up, even if we succeed in bringing it home.”
Nevertheless, he was afterwards able, as we shall see, to make the whole
of it accessible to science.
From the Peninsula of Sinai Lepsius went back to Thebes, where he found
that his instructions had been excellently carried out. Thence he
returned to Cairo, making only short stops in the places where the most
important monuments were to be found. On the way he met Dr. Bethmann[60]
an old university friend, who had come over from Italy, in order to make
the return journey through Palestine with him. Before his departure to
the Promised Land, Lepsius superintended the despatching of the
treasures which he had collected, and the taking apart of the tombs from
the pyramids to be transported to Berlin. Lastly he visited the
localities containing the most important monuments in the Delta.
In a letter of the eleventh of July, 1845, he stated the plan according
to which he hoped to see the Egyptian antiquities arranged in the new
museum at Berlin. This was to be on an historical basis, and was
afterwards executed in the manner proposed. He had heard at Cairo, much
to his delight, that they had not yet begun to build the halls intended
for the Egyptian department of the new museum at Berlin, and that his
desire to see every part constructed in the Egyptian style of
architecture might yet be carried out from the very foundation.
“I think,” he wrote, “that to produce a generally harmonious impression,
we must preserve the characteristic styles of building of the different
periods, and especially the order of the pillars, in their historical
sequence, and also with all their rich colored decoration.”
Lepsius still kept his attention fixed upon Egyptian antiquity even
during his rapid journey through Palestine, and he was afterwards able
to publish,[61] and also to incorporate in his great work on monuments,
the best copy of the celebrated tablet chiselled on the living rock,
which commemorates the victory of Rameses II. on the Dog river
(Nahr-el-Kelb). This is the Lycos of the ancients, and lies north of
Berytos (Beirut).
When Lepsius finally turned homewards from Smyrna, (he had chosen the
route through Constantinople), much more than three years had passed
since he first set out upon his journey, and these years had been
employed in a manner which far exceeded all the expectations and hopes
of his monarch, his patrons and his friends. Not only had the tasks
imposed upon him been perfectly fulfilled, but the emissary had
bethought him upon the way of imposing new ones upon himself, and now
returned home with an unprecedented number of acquisitions in the way of
inscriptions, maps, works of art and notes on language. The really
enthusiastic reception which he met with everywhere, and especially in
Berlin at the beginning of 1846, was well deserved. All the newspapers
lauded the brilliant achievements of the returning expedition. The name
of the leader became famous in all countries; it spread far beyond the
circle of his professional collaborators and countrymen, and won that
world-wide celebrity which it will retain as long as historical and
philological research exist.
His King, Frederick William IV., was the man to recognize the value of
his acquisitions, and his friend and fellow-workman, Bunsen, his patron,
A. v. Humboldt, the Director of the museum, v. Olfers, and others, did
not grudge due appreciation to the great services of the returned
traveller. They were able to induce their monarch to grant him the means
of turning to good account the abundance of treasures which he had sent
home, and of placing them at the disposal of the learned world in the
best and most appropriate manner. Thus, without regard to the enormous
expenses which must be entailed by such an undertaking, Lepsius was able
to set to work at the preparation of the great book on monuments which
was to make his name immortal, and to give renown to his native land and
his royal patron.
As far as his expenses upon the journey were concerned, he had not
exceeded his estimates, and these funds had paid for all excavations and
purchases. Humboldt considered the journey “cheap beyond measure.” It
had cost altogether thirty-four thousand, six hundred thalers.
Humboldt estimated the expenses for the publication of the store of
inscriptions and monuments collected, as well as the maps and pictures
prepared upon the journey, at sixty to eighty thousand thalers. Lepsius
thought at the time that he had rated it too high, but it afterwards
proved that it could not be completed even for this large sum. The King
had received Lepsius most graciously, and never wearied of hearing his
accounts of his journey and his acquisitions. This is confirmed by v.
Reumont, and the following extract is taken from his book, “The Days of
King William in Sickness and Health:” “After Lepsius’ return (from
Egypt) in 1846, the importance of the results which he had achieved and
the beautiful things which he had sent home, procured him the most
gracious reception at court, and he was a frequent and welcome guest
there, animated and suggestive, clever in relating his many experiences,
etc.” It was therefore natural that the king should immediately grant
him the fifteen thousand thalers, which according to Humboldt’s estimate
was the first instalment necessary for the preparation of the work on
monuments.
THE MASTER WORKMAN.
On the twenty-third of August, 1846, Lepsius was appointed a regular
professor at the Berlin University. This was followed, in 1850, by his
election as member of the Academy of Sciences, and in 1855 by his
appointment as co-director of the Egyptian museum, in conjunction with
Passalacqua, who, although a person of superficial education, was a good
man, and could not be set aside. Lepsius thus obtained the necessary
leisure to devote himself uninterruptedly to the great and varied labors
which awaited him.
Now that his probation as a journeyman was completed, he established a
home of his own, and on the fifth of July, 1846, was married to
Elizabeth Klein. The lovely bride, then eighteen years old, was an
orphan, the child of the celebrated musician and composer of the same
name.
In 1856 were completed the twelve volumes of the great work on monuments
which Lepsius had been commissioned by his king to prepare. At the time
that he left Egypt he had thought that it would exceed his powers. It
was published in sixty-two numbers, and the eight hundred and
ninety-four plates which compose them are in folio form, and exceed in
size all previous works of the kind. The size interferes with the
convenience of the book for handling, and is the sole point to be found
fault with in what is otherwise a model production. The late Mariette
once said to us in jest: “One needs a corporal and four soldiers to use
your Lepsius’ ‘Monuments,’” and it is true that these twelve gigantic
volumes demand too much physical strength, and too much space on the
study-table, when one is obliged to consult them one after another. Yet
the labor is substantially lessened by the incomparable order in which
the author has arranged them. “The Monuments of Egypt and Ethiopia”[62]
embrace all the archaeological, palaeographic and historical
acquisitions of the expedition. They contain the prodigious wealth of
hieroglyphic, Greek and other written records which the travellers
collected on the way, in addition to maps, sketches, landscapes and
architectural pictures, many of which are finely executed in colors.
The thousands of sheets of paper containing the impressions taken in
Egypt, from which the majority of the inscriptions were copied and
transferred to the lithographic stone, are preserved in the Egyptian
museum as valuable documents. Let it be noted here that Lepsius was the
first to apply successfully and efficiently this excellent method of
copying by means of paper impressions. It is now, however, only on rare
occasions of minor importance that the investigator finds it necessary
to refer to the original impressions of the expedition, so wonderfully
accurate are the reproductions of them. In the great publications of
Champollion and Rosellini, (page 78) we frequently find alterations and
inaccuracies on comparing them with the monuments, but in the
“Monuments” of Lepsius such defects are almost unknown. Yet still
greater commendation is due to the classification of the immense
material comprised in this inexhaustible mine. There is scarcely the
least change to be made in the historical sequence of these hundreds of
closely filled plates, although later researches and excavations have
furnished much that is new, and many details have been elucidated by the
monographic works of Egyptologists since 1850. Before his departure for
the Orient Lepsius had already examined the succession of the Egyptian
dynasties. Amidst the monuments of the Nile he succeeded in finding
answers to all that had appeared questionable to him while in Europe,
and in thus bringing light into darkness. While carrying forward his
work on the “Monuments” he also established a scientific groundwork for
all the knowledge which he had previously accumulated, and was thus able
to assign their correct places to the ruling families or dynasties, and
to the several Pharaohs among them. It was easy to give their proper
positions to the latter, as in the historical inscriptions are recorded
the names of the Pharaohs under whom they were made. For such as were
not dated the ingenuity and experience of the savant fixed their correct
places according to the indications of style, or on palaeographic or
other grounds.
To the inquiry which of the achievements of Lepsius we consider the
greatest, we do not hesitate to answer, the classification of his
“Monuments,” when we consider the lamentable condition of Egyptian
historical research at the time when it was produced, and the prodigious
amount of new information to be reduced to order. In this work we see
him surmount the mass of material which had been collected by his own
energy, and transform the chaotic whole into a beautiful and
faultlessly-proportioned organism. He never loses his broad outlook over
the entire field, and nevertheless he gives the smallest detail its due
with painstaking consciousness. We discern the divine likeness most
clearly in a great man when he keeps in view the great whole, and yet
does not disdain to give heed to small things; like the eternal and
mysterious power which prescribes their wide and immutable orbits to the
stars, and yet forgets not to give its antennae to the tiny insect.
This colossal work is accompanied by no explanatory text,[63] and the
excellence of the classification makes it easy to dispense with one.
Each separate inscription can only be sought for in the place where it
occurs, and the marginal notes inform us as to the locality whence it
came, and the ruler under whom it originated. Whoever wishes to know to
what period the Pharaoh in question should be assigned, must consult the
Book of Kings, which was begun by Lepsius at an early date, and
completed in 1859. He will there find the desired information.
In the middle of the fiftieth year of this century, the time had not yet
come for giving continuous and exact translations of great hieroglyphic
texts, and therefore the editor of the “Monuments” wisely abstained from
doing so. Such an undertaking would also have far exceeded the powers of
one person. Even now an abundance of difficult problems are still
presented to Egyptian philology, great as are the advances which that
has made, by this unparalleled _corpus inscriptionum_. It contains the
most important Egyptian inscriptions, from the most ancient times up to
the period of the Roman emperors, classified in the most rigorously
systematic manner.
The “Monuments” is, and must ever remain, the chief and most fundamental
work for the study of Egyptology.
Its classification presupposes a deeper study into the history of the
Pharaohs hitherto unheard of. We have seen how, when a journeyman,
Lepsius devoted himself by preference to the study of historical
monuments, and while in Egypt he everywhere laid the greatest stress
upon this.
As a master workman too, after his return to Berlin in 1846, he remained
faithful to his historical bias. He had at his disposal, in complete
shape, all that was furnished by the monuments in the way of historical
information. The systematic arrangement of the work on monuments which
he had in view already imposed upon him the task of restoring in a
critical manner the main skeleton of history, (chiefly Egyptian,) and of
ascertaining the periods of time which separate the chief historical
events from each other and from our own age. In other words, he was
obliged to devote himself with all his energy to the study of Egyptian
chronology.
As a matter of course the monuments were always the foundation from
which he proceeded, but it was also necessary to consult and to fix the
worth of such other historical records as were in existence.
Amongst these the highest rank was held by the Egyptian history of
Manetho of Sebennytos. This had been written, or was said to have been
written, for Ptolemy II. Philadelphus (285-247 B.C.) by Manetho, an
Egyptian priest familiar with the Greek tongue. During the Christian era
several other works, (the Book of Sothis and the Old Chronicle), were
falsely attributed to this writer. The heathen Greeks had held the
histories of the priestly scholar in little esteem, but, except by the
Jew Flavius Josephus, they were diligently used by chronographers of the
Christian era in their efforts to establish a chronological reckoning
for the legendary and historical events in the Old Testament. Amongst
these writers are found the lists of the Egyptian kings compiled by the
Sebennite, with an estimate of the duration of their reigns. But there
is a frequent disagreement in the facts as given by them, for each
individual chronographer adapted the figures to his own system, and
altered them arbitrarily to suit his special purposes. Therefore the
fragmentary information gathered from Manetho as to the succession of
rulers, can only be used with great prudence. Lepsius submitted these
statements, as well as other accounts of Egyptian history occurring in
the classics (Hecateus of Miletus, Herodotus, Hecateus of Abdera,
Diodorus, etc.), to a severe criticism, in the attempt to separate the
genuine work of Manetho from all that had been interpolated or perverted
in his writings. As a result of Lepsius’ supposition that some of the
ruling families enumerated in the lists did not reign successively, but
contemporaneously, he arrived at the conclusion that Manetho would
reckon the duration of Egyptian history, from the first King Menes to
the end of the reign of Nectanebus II,[64] at three thousand five
hundred and fifty-five years, and that the accession of Menes to the
throne should therefore be fixed at 3892 B. C. On the correctness of
this computation he insisted up to the time of his death, and by the aid
of his innate fine mathematical sense he showed the connection between
this and the other calculations, as subtle as they are clever, which lie
at the basis of his system of reckoning.
Rosellini’s industrious attempt to compile an Egyptian history was of
little service to him, but he found many fruitful ideas in Bunsen’s fine
publication.[65] This had been meantime completed with the advisory aid
of the able English Egyptologist S. Birch, and Lepsius himself had
furnished many contributions to it. No less a man than Boeckh[66] had, a
short time before, addressed himself to a criticism of Manetho, incited
thereto partly by Champollion’s and partly by his own investigations. In
France, also, Biot,[67] Lesueur and Nolan had published able works on
Egyptian chronology. Ideler’s hand-book, which came out in 1825, was
still highly esteemed, although this acute but far too versatile scholar
was entirely ignorant of the monuments.
Lepsius had the advantage over his predecessors in his comprehensive
knowledge of all the monuments, and his understanding of hieroglyphic
writing. He took his stand upon the monuments, and on this foundation
which at that time was a safe and favorable one for him alone, he
labored with perfect independence, but without overlooking the prior
works mentioned above. These, however, in most cases he was forced to
controvert. As far as the chronology of Bunsen was concerned, he was
obliged to shake it to the foundations, and he found himself forced to
apply critical standards very different from those of his learned friend
to the lists of Eratosthenes, the value of which, as we know, the latter
had far over-estimated. Although on this account he naturally arrived at
results which contradicted those of Bunsen, yet he dedicated to him the
great work,[68] the first volume of which was published in 1849, in the
midst of his arduous labors in editing the “Monuments.” The second and
third volumes originally planned by him remained unwritten. While the
first volume was mainly occupied with criticism of the authorities, the
two latter were to have contained the applications and proofs in detail.
All these are now to be found in the folio volume of text which
accompanies the plates of the “Book of Kings”[69] previously mentioned.
In the beautiful dedication of his chronology to Bunsen, he declared
that he offered him this work as “a public token of gratitude.” Lepsius
knew that Bunsen, like himself, had only the truth at heart, and agreed
with him that the final truth could only be attained by a keen
comparison of all possible differences of opinion. Such differences of
opinion existed between Bunsen and Lepsius, but, however candidly they
were expressed, they had no power to shake the real attachment of these
two men.
Unlike Bunsen’s great book, Lepsius’ work was not intended to establish
the place of Egypt in universal history, but only in the external frame
thereof, the annals of time. It made no attempt to be a history, but was
a chronology solely. The problem involved is solved in the first volume
of which we speak, and is treated in an original and at the same time
broad manner. Here, as elsewhere, Lepsius never loses cognizance of the
general aspect of his subject, whilst always carefully and even lovingly
considering the smallest detail and assigning it its place as a part and
factor of the whole.
He first criticizes the chronology of the Romans, the Greeks, the
Hindoos, the Chaldeans in Babylon, the Chinese and the Hebrews. In so
doing he makes it clear that among all these nations the conditions for
a very early computation of time were lacking, and proves that no nation
and no country possessed more favorable conditions for an early
chronology and history than the Egyptian. He then proceeds to consider
the astronomical basis of the Egyptian chronology, and goes thoroughly
into the question of the divisions of time employed by the ancient
Egyptians. Here, in addition to the monuments, which he always considers
as of the first importance, he cites the classic authors, and ascends in
regular progression from the smaller divisions of time, the thirds,
seconds and minutes, to the days, weeks, months, intercalary days and
years. He dwells for some time upon these latter, and explains with
remarkable clearness his views regarding the vague year and the fixed
year of Sirius. After these fundamental principles are established he
turns his attention to the longer periods of time, beginning with the
Apis period of twenty-five years, and concluding with the conjecture
that the Egyptians possessed the knowledge of a longest astronomical
period of revolution of thirty-six thousand years. According to our
reckoning this should undoubtedly be only twenty-six thousand years,
yet the period given can be recognized in the thirty-six thousand five
hundred and twenty-five years which Syncellus alleges to have been the
Egyptian period of universal apocatastasis of the heavens.
He then reviews the Egyptian calendar, its introduction and reforms.
Although no one knows so well as he that events are commonly reckoned
upon the monuments, not from an era, but according to the years of the
separate reigns, he attempts to prove that the Sothiac cycle of one
thousand four hundred and sixty years had been used as an era for such
purposes as necessitated the conception of a longer distinct period of
time.
To many of our readers the words “Sothiac cycle” and “year of Sirius”
will be but empty sounds. We will therefore give an explanation of them,
in accordance with our promise to be intelligible even to the general
reader. Let us adhere as closely as possible to the statement of Lepsius
himself!--In the Egyptian heavens was visible a sidereal phenomenon
which in a very remarkable manner corresponded perfectly, except for a
mere trifle, to the Julian year of three hundred and sixty-five and a
quarter days. It continued for more than three thousand years, and in
fact was precisely coeval with the duration of the Egyptian empire. This
was the heliacal rising of Sirius; that is, the reappearance of Sirius,
the brightest fixed star, before sunrise. For a time this star was
invisible, on account of its rising simultaneously with the sun. The
early rise of which we speak occurred regularly one day later at the
expiration of every four (civil) years of three hundred and sixty-five
days, which was the simple basis on which the Egyptian calendar had been
established at an early period. Thus when the New Year’s day of the
fixed year of three hundred and sixty-five and a quarter days fell upon
the first of the New Year’s month (Thot) of the civil year of three
hundred and sixty-five days, then, after four fixed years, it fell upon
the second of the New Year’s month, Thot, after 2 × 4 upon the third,
after 3 × 4 upon the fourth of Thot, and so on. After 365 × 4, that is,
when, after one thousand four hundred and sixty fixed years, it had run
through all the days of the civil year, the next New Year’s day of the
fixed year fell once more upon the first of the New Year’s month Thot,
and the two forms of the year had thus readjusted themselves, so that
one thousand, four hundred and sixty fixed years of three hundred and
sixty-five and a quarter days were exactly equivalent to one thousand,
four hundred and sixty-one civil years of three hundred and sixty-five
days. We cannot here take cognizance of the slight error which resulted
from the fact that the true solar year does not exactly amount to three
hundred and sixty-five days and six hours, but only to three hundred and
sixty-five days, five hours, forty-eight minutes and forty-eight
seconds; nor can we now speak of the compensation therefor. In any case,
it follows from what has been said that the Egyptians, during their
whole history, had in their year of Sirius, computed according to the
heliacal or early ascension of that star, the most perfect sidereal
model ever possessed by any nation for their simple annual reckoning of
the year of three hundred and sixty-five and a quarter days. Therefore
Lepsius is right when he maintains that the Egyptians had a perfectly
exact astronomical period in the Sothiac cycle of 4 × 365; that is, in
the one thousand, four hundred and sixty years of Sirius, during which
the civil year, shorter by a quarter of a day, readjusted itself by
being renewed one thousand four hundred and sixty-one times.
Thus closes, on page 240, this full and noble introduction. The review
of the authorities then begins. After a preliminary survey of these,
Herodotus and Diodorus undergo a searching criticism, which proves the
uselessness of these authors for chronological purposes. In the
subsequent chapters Lepsius exerts himself to show the relation of the
Egyptian to the ancient Hebrew chronology, and he rightly applies to the
Biblical reckoning the same rules of criticism which he has employed in
regard to that contained in secular writings. In so doing he proceeds on
the sole tenable principle that the truth discovered in the course of
the healthy development of any science cannot be opposed to Christian
truth, but must rather promote it. “For all the truths in the world,” he
says, “have from the very beginning presented a union and solidarity
against all untruth and error. But in order scientifically to separate
truth from error in any department, theology possesses no other method
than that which belongs to every other science; namely, rational and
cautious criticism. Whatever this may affirm, it is only possible to
amend or refute by a criticism which is still better and more cautious.”
To him, as to us, the practical religious significance which the Old
Testament must have for every Christian reader, seems to have no
connection with the recorded dates regarding early periods of time of
which the authors and compilers of those Scriptures could have had no
exact knowledge, except by means of a purposeless inspiration.
“Science must be pursued with reverence and freedom.” With these
beautiful words of Bunsen, Lepsius agreed, and he demanded reverence for
all that was venerable, holy, noble, great and well-proved, and claimed
freedom wherever it was a question of attaining and declaring the truth
and his own conviction thereof. This noble principle he also impressed
upon his disciples, and we would like to recall it to the memory of
those younger men who, in our day, so readily absolve themselves from
all that goes by the name of “reverence,” and hold themselves so much
the greater and stronger if they can succeed in shaking that which is
established, in detecting a blemish upon greatness, or discerning a spot
upon the source of light. They have received criticism as an
inheritance; but there is only too good foundation for the complaint
often repeated by Lepsius, that by them the noblest of all weapons is
wielded sacrilegiously, and with special delight for the purposes of
destruction. They can learn from the Master, who prescribed the method
for a whole science, and aided to erect its mighty edifice, that it is
possible to practise reverence and gratitude, and yet maintain one’s own
opinion with manly independence, and attack error with the sharpest
criticism.
The last and perhaps the most important portion of the “Chronology” is
occupied with Manetho and the authorities which can be traced back to
him, and also with the relation of these authorities to each other. A
special chapter is also devoted to Eratosthenes and Apollodorus.
This work embraces the whole foundation of Egyptian chronology, and
indicates the methods according to which all chronological
investigations, no matter in what direction, should be conducted. The
detached historical-chronological researches on special subjects[70]
which followed the “Chronology” are so many model specimens of the
consistent application of this method.
In the “Chronology” itself the fine and thorough humanistic training of
its author is manifested in a specially happy manner. There are modern
scholars who, as students, confine themselves to their special
provinces, and, peasant-like, do not look beyond the space where they
plow and sow and reap. These may learn from Lepsius how, without
straying too far afield, it may yet be possible to establish a
connection between that which they themselves have gained, and the
acquisitions which have been made in other and kindred departments of
science. They may observe how details can be treated in the most
thorough and fundamental manner, without losing cognizance of the whole.
Lepsius was an able philologist, linguist, archaeologist and historian,
before he became an Egyptologist. From an acquaintance with the main
principles of science, and from broad generalities, he descended
gradually and without a break to a knowledge of the separate parts.
Vulgar learning amasses the material of knowledge, and leaves all that
has been thus acquired heaped together in confusion; genuine learning
proceeds from the general to the special, connects the details with the
whole, and always subjects the former to the latter. It was thus that
the scientific activity of Lepsius was exercised, and if we inquire what
it was that elevated him above even the most industrious and ingenious
of his fellow workers, we find that he owed his lofty position to his
truly scientific method of development, research and work. This makes
his productions a true system of learning, in contrast with the
knowledge amassed by so many others who have labored without regard to
the general principles animating the whole.
Thence, too, it results that his “Chronology” is available for every
purpose, and is employed as a guide and source of instruction, not only
by the Egyptologist, but also by every historian who wishes to devote
himself to the study, either of the chronology of all nations, or of any
special people. Although many of the details of this work may have
become disputable and untenable in consequence of the latest advances
of science, yet for all time to come it must remain the starting point
whence all investigations in this domain are forced to proceed.
In spite of the manifold and profound researches on which this work was
based, and in spite of the time and strength demanded by the editing of
the “Monuments,” Lepsius, during the years following his return to his
native land, himself superintended the embellishment of those rooms in
the new museum at Berlin which were destined to hold the Egyptian
collection. He also attended personally to the arrangement and
cataloguing of the collection. He took peculiar pleasure in this work,
and pursued it with indefatigable zeal.
The aged Passalacqua, a man eager for knowledge, had gone to Egypt in
the capacity of a merchant, and had afterwards made himself acquainted,
as a dillettante, with the discoveries and works of Champollion. He now
filled, “conscientiously and with pleasure to himself,” the post of
superintendent of the collection of monuments and relics which he had
brought from the Nile. Frederick William IV. in buying his collection
had taken him with it into the bargain; no one wished to remove him from
his position, and thus it came to pass that Lepsius could only be
appointed co-director in 1855, and it was not until 1865, that he was
appointed chief superintendent.
The Berlin collection of Egyptian antiquities consisted of the
collections of v. Minutoli, Passalacqua, v. Koller and Bartholdy. Prior
to its removal to the new museum it had been lodged in the palace of
Monbijou, and while there had received many additions, especially by the
purchase of the third collection of Drovetti. This man, who had been
French consul-general at Alexandria under Napoleon I., had some time
before collected the rich stores which now form the Egyptian museum at
Turin. (See pages 93 and 132.) He had already sold another smaller
collection, (See page 97), to King William IV., upon the solicitation of
Lepsius and in consequence of his intervention. Bunsen only concluded
the purchase in 1837, as the authorized agent of that prince. In 1839,
there was added to the Berlin collection that of the state-counsellor
Saulnier at Paris, and in 1843, that of d’Athanasi at London. From the
pamphlet published in 1880, entitled “History of the Royal Museum at
Berlin,”[71] and from the portion of the same dedicated to Dr. S. Stern
of the Egyptian department, we learn that there were already five
thousand numbers in that department in the year 1849, that is, previous
to the incorporation of the treasures which Lepsius sent home from
Egypt.
The expedition whose travels and labors we have recorded had sent home
not less than fifteen thousand Egyptian antiquities and plaster casts.
Especially valuable among these were the three tombs already mentioned
from the necropolis of ancient Memphis on the plain of the pyramids at
el-Gizeh, as well as many sculptures and inscriptions from other tombs
of the Old Kingdom. The colored portraits of Amenophis I. and his
celebrated mother Nefertari, long worshipped as divine, are also of
great importance. These the expedition took, together with the fragment
upon which they were painted, from a tomb. They also took a pillar from
the tomb of Seti I. Both of these monuments came from Thebes. With them
and with a column taken from the temple of Philae was connected the
reproach brought against the expedition of having destroyed venerable
monuments to further their own special purposes. Against this accusation
we have hitherto defended the expedition in perfectly good faith, but
unfortunately, as far as the pillar from the splendid tomb of Seti was
concerned, there was some foundation for the charge. Of the other
acquisitions of Lepsius we will also name an obelisk and many columns
from tombs, a portrait in relief of Thothmes III., a colossal bust of
King Horus, the naophore statue of Prince Setau-an, an altar from
Ben-Naga, and, in addition, the ram sphinx from Mount Boreal mentioned
on page 156. Together with these were numerous monuments from Meroë,
many of which were covered with those Ethiopian-demotic inscriptions,
the key to which is still wanting. He also sent home several beautiful
sarcophagi of stone and wood, the tablet of Moschion, with a
Greek-demotic inscription, many bricks with the stamp of the Pharaohs of
the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties, and finally, in addition to
numerous lesser relics, valuable papyri.
The casts taken by the expedition while on the Nile were intended to
complete the collection of casts begun by the advice of Lepsius. Large
and fortunate additions were afterwards made to this collection, and its
founder always, and with justice, attributed great importance to it. By
means of these casts it was possible to supply in an available and
desirable manner the inevitable deficiencies with respect to an
historical sequence of the original monuments. Other museums imitated
that of Berlin in instituting collections of casts. The finishing and
painting of the halls which had been renovated for the Egyptian
collection were begun and completed under the superintendence of
Lepsius, who had entire liberty in the matter. In every respect it was
done to correspond with those ideas and wishes which he had already
expressed in Cairo. All the demands of the Egyptian style were observed
in the three halls at his disposal, and the walls, pillars and ceilings
received that decorative and highly-colored pictorial ornament with
which the temples and tombs of the time of the Pharaohs are adorned. The
most interesting pictures from the tombs and sanctuaries on the Nile
were reproduced here, and Ernest Weidenbach, upon whom devolved the
execution of the multitude of paintings selected and arranged by
Lepsius, performed the task with that delicate feeling for the
characteristics of Egyptian style which was peculiar to himself. They
had at their disposal the rooms situated in the northern half of the
ground floor of the new museum. The entrance leads immediately into the
anteroom, where a column from Philae with a palm capital is stationed.
If one turns thence towards the hall adjoining on the right, one has
before him a series of rooms which can in some measure represent the
chief divisions of an Egyptian temple; vestibule, hypostyle and
sanctuary. In an Egyptian temple the court was usually surrounded by
colonnades, whose architraves contained the dedication of the building.
In the midst stood an altar. Behind these sacred halls there were
smaller rooms, the last of which, in the axis of the building, was the
sanctuary containing the statue of the god of the temple. In a general
way the rooms of the Berlin Egyptian collection correspond to this
customary arrangement. They contain the court, covered with glass and
surrounded by columns, the hypostyle adjoining, and the cella in the
background. At the side of this central temple lie three main rooms; to
the right are the mythological hall and the hall of tombs, while the
historical hall extends along the whole length of the left side.
Let us turn first to those rooms situated on the right and towards the
east; these are the mythological hall and the hall of tombs. In the
former are arranged the sarcophagi and coffins, and the spectator is
there impressed by that serious mood so easily awakened in our souls by
objects which remind us solely of death. There he finds himself in the
company of the gods, and every picture on the walls relates to them, and
is connected with the mythological tenets of the most religious of all
peoples. The divine constellations of the Egyptian heavens look down
upon the visitor from the ceiling, as in the great passages of the rock
tombs and the consecrated halls of the temples. Every picture has its
astronomical and mythological significance. In the rear portion of this
space, which is partitioned off, is the hall of tombs, and here are the
tomb chambers from Memphis, and the other monuments of the Old Kingdom.
The middle hall is divided into the portico, the hypostylic hall, and
the sanctuary of an Egyptian temple. The portico, which lies to the
south, and which in Egypt is covered only by the bright blue arch of
heaven, is intended to arouse in the spectator the sensation of being
still in the open air. Therefore the beautiful landscapes with which
modern artists have adorned the walls, and which remind us of the most
remarkable localities and the sites of the most venerable monuments of
Egypt, are extremely appropriate here, where are also grouped the
colossal statues and sepulchral stele. In the hypostylic portion of this
hall the paintings transport us among the subjects of the Pharaohs, and
numerous illustrations of the private life of the old Egyptians make us
familiar with the high and peculiar culture which took root and
blossomed in the valley of the Nile much earlier than in any other spot
on earth. Carefully-selected papyri are hung on the walls of this room.
In the sanctuary, which lies altogether to the north, stands the statue
of King Horus.
The third or historic hall, (to the left or west,) is adorned with
pictures connected with the history of the kingdom of the Pharaohs, and
also with representations of battles by land and water. The long series
of ovals inscribed with the names of the old royal rulers of the Nile
valley in hieroglyphics, form a suitable decoration, and attract the eye
of all who are desirous of knowledge. Those monuments which are
distinguished for their historical importance are arranged here in order
according to the time of their origin. The plaster casts are in a
special room beside the vestibule, and are beginning more and more to
overflow it.
If the Egyptian museum in Berlin has long been among the most famous in
the world, on account of the wealth of treasures there preserved, it has
also gained a value peculiar to itself from the historical ideas
introduced and carried out by Lepsius. There we see exhibited the
artistic epochs of Egyptian history arranged in groups according to
their chronological succession. Yet at the same time the effort to keep
together objects which are mutually connected, such as sarcophagi and
coffins, has been successful. Also, where it was necessary to form
distinct divisions, the historical method has been applied within the
limits of each separate group.
There can be but one opinion as to the propriety and the scientific
advantages of Lepsius’ historical method of classification; but the
decoration of the rooms in the Berlin museum by no means meets with such
universal approbation. It is indeed conceded that it is in the best
possible taste, and is both beautiful and attractive, but it is
maintained by many people that the pictorial representation on the
walls, that is, the accessories, draw the attention of the visitor too
strongly and distract him from the contemplation of the monuments, which
are certainly the real objects of importance.
There is some reason for this objection; but yet these pictures serve
the immediate purpose of bringing visitors to the collection and it is
this very decoration of the Berlin-Egyptian museum which renders it
peculiarly attractive.
Whoever goes there with any knowledge of the monuments will pay
attention to them, and not to the decorations of the hall. But the
layman will there become interested in the culture and artistic ability
of the old Egyptians, as he would not do in a museum where the monuments
stand in bare halls, and have to speak entirely for themselves. The
pictures attract him, and at the same time introduce him to Egyptian
antiquity. They make him familiar, in a trustworthy manner, with the
Egyptian civilization from whose soil have sprung the works of art there
assembled. They teach him to understand the connection between these and
the organic whole of which they are the separate parts, and, in many
cases, the most beautiful blossoms. In one place there are pictorial
representations, and in another monuments, to direct and instruct the
visitor so that he may comprehend every stage of the development of this
great whole. Whoever enters these rooms with a mind open and alert will
soon perceive the relation between the decorative pictures and the
monuments, and will easily succeed in connecting them with the
departments of Egyptian life and activity to which they belong. He will
transport the coffin, upon which he can lay his hands, into the funeral
procession shown him in the painting; when he gazes up at a colossus he
will place it mentally in that spot at the temple gate where it really
belongs, according to the picture on the wall. Indeed, the decorative
paintings will show him the Egyptian artist at his work, and the prince
whose monument stands before him upon his war chariot in the tumult of
battle. They will make him familiar with the gods who are mentioned in
the hieroglyphic texts of coffins, stele and papyri. Thus these
paintings possess great value for instructive and illustrative purposes,
apart from the attraction which they present to the eye, and the
appearance, as peculiar as it is pleasing, which they lend to the halls
of the museum. Therefore we would not willingly be without them. He, who
permits himself to be distracted from the monuments by them, will yet
not have visited the museum in vain, but will have learned something
authentic and interesting concerning Egyptian antiquity.
By the beginning of the year 1850 the arrangement of the Egyptian relics
in the new museum was completed, and after Passalacqua’s death, when
Lepsius had officially assumed the management of the collection, he
caused Ernest Weidenbach to be employed as assistant in the Egyptian
department. He also immediately drew up a full description of the
pictures on the walls,[72] for the use of visitors to the museum, and
afterwards prepared a little catalogue.[73] In 1878, he had the larger
monuments furnished with short explanatory labels. After his appointment
as chief librarian he nominated Dr. L. Stern as first assistant
superintendent. Dr. Stern aided him in all his labors concerning the
museum with diligence, judgment and technical knowledge; he was an able
Egyptologist and had a thorough knowledge of the Coptic language. The
Egyptian collection received continual additions under the direction of
Lepsius, and the complaisance with which he placed its treasures at the
service of foreign scholars was universally recognized.
As an academical instructor Lepsius also manifested the high
intellectual qualities and admirable ability peculiar to himself. His
first lecture was delivered on the twenty-ninth of October, 1846, and
related to the condition of Egyptological science in France and Italy,
compared with what had been accomplished on the same field in Germany.
It went off excellently, and amongst his hundred auditors appeared
officials of high rank and military men. As his lectures proceeded he
took advantage on their account of the collection intrusted to his care,
and we remember with pleasure the weekly lectures which he read amongst
the monuments in the halls of the museum. The special discourses
delivered in the directors room were usually succeeded by rambles
through the museum, as instructive as they were interesting.
The public lectures in the museum attracted students from all the
faculties, but the private lectures, which he delivered at his own house
to a few youthful scholars who desired to devote themselves to the study
of Egyptology, were models as regarded the well-considered arrangement
of the material. Amongst them we must praise as especially instructive
the historical and chronological lectures. These were attended with
profit by many young students of history. The purely grammatical
lectures were confined to the ancient Egyptian grammar, and only
incidentally touched upon the hieratic or the later linguistic forms of
speech of the demotic and Coptic. His delivery was always simple, and
nevertheless the surpassing faculty of judgment and the severe critical
method of the teacher always enchained the attention of his hearers. The
material was always as copious as the arrangement was excellent.
Lepsius gave to the writer of this biography the strongest proof of the
seriousness with which he regarded his office of instructor and the
lovely benevolence which was united with his other great qualities. When
a young and enthusiastic student I was obliged by illness to keep the
house during a whole winter term, and I shall be forever grateful to
Lepsius for the great and rare kindness with which he visited me on a
certain day of every week, and went over the essential parts of the
lectures of which my illness had deprived me. These private lectures, or
rather these lessons when the pupil worked under the direction of the
master, for which of course no material equivalent could be given, are
among my most delightful memories, and a more liberal gift I have never
received. Those of his scholars who afterwards rendered special service
to Egyptology were J. Dümichen, professor at Strasburg, and E. Naville,
the eminent Genoese Egyptologist. A. Erment, professor at Berlin, and A.
Wiedemann, private lecturer at Bonn, attended his lectures during
subsequent terms. The younger Egyptologists educated by me at Leipsic,
he liked to call his “grandpupils.”
At that time, and indeed in 1856, there was submitted to the Berlin
Academy and offered to it for sale, by professor Dindorf of Leipsic, a
palimpsest containing the work of Uranius mentioned by Stephen of
Byzantium, Αἰγυπτίων βασιλέων ἀναγραφῶν βίβλοι τρεῖς, (three books of
lists of the Egyptian kings). Up to that time this had been supposed
lost. On the first examination, at which Lepsius was present, there
appeared to be no reason to doubt the genuineness of the manuscript. It
was written between the lines of a genuine text of the twelfth century.
The traits of the Greek uncial writing, skilfully reproduced in the
style of the first centuries after Christ, would not be suspected by a
palaeographer of the present day, although it is now proved that the
codex is a counterfeit. When it was learned that the manuscript belonged
to the Greek Simonides of ill-repute, some doubts were raised, and yet
the rediscovery of the Uranius would have been of such eminent
importance for the historical and chronological studies in which Lepsius
was then engaged, that he furnished from his own pocket half the price,
as a deposit in order to secure it for Berlin and for himself. Dindorf
had declared that in consequence of an agreement with Simonides he could
not leave the manuscript behind in Berlin for closer inspection without
such a deposit. This examination was committed to Lepsius, and on
searching more thoroughly the lists of kings which Simonides represented
to be those of Uranius, he soon found there could be no question but
that he had before him a bold and unprecedently skilful counterfeit.
Indisputable arguments were soon added to the internal reasons which had
led Lepsius to this conviction, and it then became a question of
recovering from the counterfeiter his plunder of twenty-five thousand
thalers. In this Lepsius was successful, owing to the cleverness and
prudence of Stieber, the chief of police, who accompanied him to
Leipsic. Thus the Berlin library was protected from loss and imposition,
and science from unspeakable confusion, through the sagacity of our
friend. Lepsius himself furnished information as to the particulars of
this affair in a clear and exhaustive explanation.[74] Simonides appears
to have continued to drive his trade as a counterfeiter, for it is
hardly possible that it was any one else than he who produced the
manuscript of the Persians of Aeschylus, which reached Leipsic by way of
Egypt, and (not without our own humble coöperation) was recognized by
Ritschl as a forgery.[75]
During his life in Berlin as a Master Workman, Lepsius also addressed
himself to those metrological studies which he continued to pursue up to
the time of his death. If we look over the Transactions of the Berlin
Academy of Sciences we shall also find that he was faithful to research
in the department of languages. This was entirely apart from his special
and unceasing labors on the Nubian Grammar and in the examination of the
fundamental laws of construction of the other African languages.
During his sojourn in Egypt amongst the monuments of the Pharaonic
period, his attention had been specially called to the measures of the
ancient Egyptians. He had subjected many of the monuments to
measurement, and also found certain stamps of linear measure, with
accompanying figures, upon some of those of the Old Kingdom. These he
studied according to the same method which had already approved itself
to him throughout his previous labors. He collected all existing
material from the monuments with a thoroughness and in an abundance
thitherto unknown, and subjected all previous investigations and
measurements to severe criticism. From the information thus gained he
sagaciously and cautiously deduced positive inferences. In his
investigations he also included the kindred measures of other ancient
peoples.
In his fine work on the ancient Egyptian ell and its subdivisions[76] he
arrived at the conclusion that the small ell of 0.450 of a meter “was
the true unit under-lying the whole system.” The great royal ell, which
was in use at the same time, he considered a special ell, distinct from
the common one and added to the measures at a very early date. The cause
of the increase of the small ell used in private life appeared to him to
have been “that the kings or priests paid the same compensation for the
great ell, in building, as formerly for the small ell, as the overplus
of labor was considered as compulsory service, and not paid for.” In
addition to all the greater and lesser units of the Egyptian linear
measure[77] he also directed his attention to other measures of the
ancient Egyptians,[78] and after familiarizing himself with the results
obtained in Assyriology, (which at that time was making rapid progress),
he occupied himself with comprehensive researches into the linear
measures of the ancient nations in general. He took special pains to
subject the celebrated tablet of Senkereh,[79] in which he discerned one
of the most important bases of Asiatic metrology, to a searching
examination, and in doing so he received the assistance of the most
eminent Assyriologists. He restored the whole tablet, and recognized it
as a table of comparison, by the aid of which Babylonian-Assyrian
measures could be reduced to ells, which were reckoned according to the
sexagesimal system. He proved that the metrical systems of the
Assyrians, Babylonians and Persians were entirely distinct from each
other, although he could grant them one point in common, the building
ell of 0.525 of a meter, which was regularly in use in Egypt in the
fourth century before Christ, and was employed in the building of the
pyramids.
Although Lepsius had worked with sagacity and caution in the realm of
metrology, yet his conclusions in that field were not to remain
unchallenged, and he found himself forced to defend the results of his
investigations, first against the distinguished Assyriologist Jules
Oppert, and then against the attacks of the architect Dörpfeld. This
young scholar, who had distinguished himself by his very excellent work
in his own special province, attempted to tax Lepsius with a fundamental
error, and to prove that the small ell which the latter considered, and
was obliged to consider, as a special unit of measure, was in fact
nothing of the sort, but should only be regarded as a subdivision of the
great royal ell. But the grey-haired scholar, although he had been
struck by apoplexy, still rejoiced in a keenness of mind which many a
younger man might have envied, and defended himself bravely. He not only
opposed his adversary in a controversial treatise scarcely a year before
his death, but he also energetically refuted Dörpfeld’s reply in the
last of his works, “The Linear Measures of the Ancients.”[80] This
appeared a few days before his decease. We have examined both opinions
impartially, and cannot but range ourselves on the side of the Master,
Lepsius, who had the advantage of his opponent in a knowledge of all the
monuments and an understanding of hieroglyphic writing. It was in his
favor in the controversy that his adversary partly relied upon perverted
translations and on dubious authorities, or those which he was obliged
to take at second hand. The old warrior knew how to bring such errors
skilfully into the foreground, and thus, at the very beginning,
compromise his adversary, who in other respects had worked with good
faith in the correctness of his cause. The controversial paper of
Lepsius has not the least appearance of being written by an old man
suffering from illness. He may have drawn the force of his reply from
the conviction that he was in the right. Besides, the vigorous
grey-beard saw all that he had won by painful and conscientious labor
unexpectedly endangered, and “therefore,” thus he says himself in his
last book--“I both desired and was obliged to make a plain answer in a
matter which but few understand. Otherwise the greatest confusion might
be occasioned in the minds of half-instructed readers by the influence
of such an extensive, bold, and yet entirely unfounded attack from a man
otherwise estimable, and who, in his own department, has decided merit.”
Lepsius’ last work, on the linear measures of the ancients, included all
the results of his metrological studies. In it he took a high standpoint
from which it was possible to survey all the multitude of details as
one great whole. He considered the linear measures of the Egyptians,
Hebrews, Greeks, Romans, Assyrians and Persians, and the Philetarian
system. This latter he found to be employed in Egypt, especially in the
temple of Denderah. But he was not contented with treating them
monographically, but also investigated the relations of all these
systems to each other, and showed that in all probability a historical
connection existed between them.
The treatises on language written by Lepsius were all published in the
transactions and monthly reports of the Berlin Academy of Sciences, and
the greater number of them have been already cited.
Up to the year 1866 he remained in Berlin, occupied with ceaseless
labors, and only in the autumn holidays did he undertake long journeys
for recreation or in pursuit of his scientific aims. Several times he
went to London, especially on account of affairs relating to his
standard alphabet. He was always attracted towards Paris, and once went
there (1857) on a commission from the government to bid at an auction of
Egyptian antiquities for the Berlin museum. He also reaped a fresh
scientific harvest in the year 1852, during a second and longer visit to
the museum at Leyden, where he was most cordially received by the
Leemans and the mother of the excellent Director.
In the beginning of 1866, he undertook his second journey to Egypt, and
was again accompanied by his faithful hierogrammatist, E. Weidenbach. On
the second of April he left for Cairo, and this time with the design of
visiting the Eastern Delta and the localities of the ruins there. These
were of special importance for Biblical geography. He first inspected
the Persian-Egyptian monuments which had just been excavated by the
workmen on the Suez Canal. According to his views these had been dug up
from the canal constructed by Darius, and were memorials intended to
adorn that great undertaking. After also examining the other monuments
found in the neighborhood of the excavations of De Lesseps, together
with their surroundings, he proceeded in quest of the site of ancient
Pelusium.[81] The shingle bed which covers the whole Gesiret-el-Farama
is bounded towards the east by a continuous bank, which can be traced
till beyond the western Tell-el-Her, and whose fortress-like curves
separate the shingle field upon its declivity from the sand dunes of the
desert. Lepsius believed that he had found there the locality of the
ancient Hauaris (auaris), so often sought for, and thus proved that this
was not to be looked for in Tanis, but on the site or in the
neighborhood of the later Pelusium. In the Herin Tell-el-Her he thought
might perhaps be recognized a remnant of the old name Ha-uar, the
ancient Egyptian form of Auaris. These conjectures have not been shaken
by any later investigations, but on the other hand Lepsius’ opinion,
previously expressed, that Tell el-Maschuta, which he visited before
Pelusium, was the Ramses of the Bible, seems to be disproved by the
latest excavations of Naville, and this place must now be regarded as
the Biblical Pithom and Succoth, in spite of the opposition which that
view afterwards encountered from the Master.[82]
His greatest prize was to fall into his hands at San, the Tanis of the
Greeks, the Zo’an of the Bible, whither he was accompanied by the
Viennese Egyptologist Reinisch. This acquisition was of such great and
epoch-making importance as to throw into the shade all the other gains
of the journey. The discovery of the decree of Tanis, or the Tablet of
Canopus, amongst the ruins of San, is one of the most important
discoveries made in Egypt since the finding of the Rosetta stone. It
furnishes proof of the correctness of the results which had been
obtained up to 1866, by the Egyptologists with the aid of the Rosetta
key and Champollion’s method of deciphering hieroglyphics.
This rare monument consists of a stela of solid limestone, and has on
its front surface a hieroglyphic inscription of thirty-seven lines, and
the Greek translation of the same in seventy-six closely written lines.
On the edge of the tablet, though Lepsius did not notice it at first, is
the same text in demotic writing, that is, in the popular dialect of the
later heathen Egyptians. The whole stone, including the rounded upper
surface, is 2.16 meters high and 0.78 of a meter wide, and is at present
kept in the museum of Bulak. It is in excellent preservation, and
Lepsius could easily read both texts at the first trial.
The translation of the hieroglyphic decree, which was made on the basis
of Champollion’s method of deciphering and by the aid of the grammars
and lexicons published between the time when that was discovered and the
year 1866, agreed perfectly with the Greek version thereof upon the same
stone. With this valuable monument for a basis it was thus once for all
positively determined that the study of the Egyptian language was being
pursued according to the correct method.
The decree discovered by Lepsius was dated in the ninth year of Ptolemy
Euergetes I. Like the decree upon the Rosetta stone it had been passed
by priests, who had assembled at Canopus for the celebration of the
birthday of the king. In the first part of it were enumerated the
benefits conferred by the ruler of the land, which had caused the
hierarchy to accord to him many new honors in addition to those
conferred upon his predecessor. In the part establishing a new popular
festival to be celebrated in honor of Euergetes in all the temples of
the country, there occurred certain arrangements of the calendar from
which, as Lepsius immediately perceived, it must be inferred that a
mutable year had been in use at an early period, in addition to the
fixed year. It was also evident that in the ninth year of Euergetes I.
the fixed Julian year had already come into use in the civil affairs of
Egypt.
The hieroglyphic names for Canopus, Syria, Phœnicia, the island of
Cyprus and Persia, could be determined with the aid of the Greek
translation. This weighty document also furnished much important
information regarding history, chronology and the calendar. Egyptian
philology is indebted to these inscriptions for confirmation only, if we
except a few additions to the dictionary, and some peculiarities of the
dialect of Lower Egypt in which they were written.
Lepsius immediately made the monument which he had discovered the common
property of science, in a model publication[83] containing both texts,
which he accompanied by thorough translations and most important
explanations. In so doing he gave an example worthy of imitation to
Mariette, the great autocrat of all the monuments in Egypt, who always
published the inscriptions which he excavated long after their
discovery.
Invested with a new and illustrious honorary title,[84] Lepsius returned
to Berlin, and there resumed his old labors with all his energy.
Henry Brugsch, a scholar who, quite independently of Lepsius, had become
one of the most eminent leaders in the science of Egyptology, had in
1863 founded an organ of his own for Egyptological research, under the
name of “Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache und Alterthumskunde”
[Journal of Egyptian Language and Archaeology:] A profound estrangement,
increased by adverse casualties and incidents, had up to this time kept
these two eminent men asunder. But Brugsch, after successfully
conducting the new journal to the end of its first year, obtained a
place in Egypt in the Prussian consular service, and left Europe. The
relations between him and Lepsius at this time became more friendly, and
Lepsius undertook, “with the coöperation of H. Brugsch at Cairo,” the
management of this journal of Egyptology. Scholars from all countries
furnished contributions to it, and for some time it remained the chief
organ for the special investigations of Egyptologists. It also received
Assyriological works. It had afterwards as competitors, first in France
the Vieweg “Recueil”[85] and then the “Revue Égyptilogique”[86] founded
in 1880, by Revillont and Brugsch, and in England the “Proceedings of
the Society of Biblical Archaeology.”[87] Yet, in spite of the rivals
mentioned, the German journal maintained its rank and its importance.
This was the case even after Lepsius, overwhelmed by his official duties
and with enfeebled health, resigned the lion’s share of the editorial
work to the distinguished young Egyptologist, A. Erman. Erman taught as
a private lecturer at the Berlin University in the time of Lepsius, and
has lately been appointed professor there.
H. Brugsch-Pasha still worked for the “Zeitschrift,” even after he had
founded the “Revue Égyptologique” in conjunction with Revillout, and
his relation to his older colleague became more friendly with time.
After the death of Lepsius, Brugsch again became editor of the
“Zeitschrift” and dedicated to the senior master an obituary which was
couched in the warmest terms.
In the autumn of the year 1869, Lepsius undertook his third and last
journey to Egypt, and was present at the opening of the Suez Canal. His
hasty trip to Upper Egypt could yield little fruit to science, but it
served to give him great pleasure, and in his letters to his wife he
could not sufficiently praise the amiability of the Crown Prince, to
whom, as cicerone, he showed the monuments.
A great number of distinctions were conferred upon the Master during the
latter portion of his life, but in consequence thereof, at a time of
life when others feel the desire for rest, he was induced to assume a
burden of duties which would have oppressed many a man in his prime.
In 1873, he was appointed privy counsellor to the government, and was
entrusted with the temporary direction of the Berlin library. We were
witness to the extreme and careful deliberation with which he considered
the matter before assuming this onerous office. He did not conceal from
himself that it would hinder the completion of many an enterprise which
he had already begun and which was very dear to him; but on the other
hand he told himself that he was the right man to regulate and carry
through numerous affairs which he knew would be of benefit to the
important institution which he was to conduct.
The broad and firm foundation of his education, his prolonged work as a
student at Paris, Rome and London, and his practical intelligence,
specially fitted him for the place of a chief librarian. He entered upon
the post on the twenty-fifth of March, 1874.
Pertz had formerly been a very useful man, but had now become enfeebled
by age, and was difficult to manage. We learn from the most
authoritative of all sources that Lepsius, at the instance of Delbrück,
then vice-chancellor, undertook to induce Pertz first to resign the
management of the collection of the archives of the German people, (the
Monumenta Germaniae), and afterwards to retire from his office of chief
librarian. After Lepsius had succeeded in this--the wits of Berlin
called him Propertz, as the successor of the aged Pertz,--the Minister,
Falk, invited him in April, 1873 to assume the management of the Royal
Library. The place was at first provisional, but when he definitively
assumed the office in March, 1874, he did it under the condition that
the Budget for the library should be considerably increased, and that
provision should be made for erecting a new building. Of this there was
and is urgent need, for the limited amount of space in the old
“roccoco-cabinet of Frederick II.,” produced, and still produces,
incredible disadvantages. After inspecting many large foreign libraries
during the long vacation of 1873, and taking into consideration
everything which he found there suitable for the end in view, Lepsius
looked over the plans of the grounds available for this purpose. As the
result of his reflections a bold idea saw the light of day. The place
which he chose for the future library of the capital city was the great
square enclosed by Unter den Linden, Charlotten, Dorotheen and
Universitäts streets. This was a bold but extraordinarily happy project,
which might perhaps have been adopted, had it been earlier laid before
the Government and the chambers. But the golden days of flood in the
Prussian treasury were passing away. Lepsius succeeded in arranging that
the rear portion of the Dutch palace, towards Behren Street, should be
specially appropriated as journal rooms, whereby space was procured for
from one to two hundred thousand volumes more. But he did not live to
see the realization of his project. Nevertheless, the impulse given by
him is still working, and the day cannot be far distant when a worthy
domicile will be provided for the treasures of the Berlin library.
Lepsius did much for the internal regulation of the library. He spoke
with special pleasure of the system introduced by him for the disposal
of newly-procured books as well as of the cataloguing, and the following
innovations: Here, as elsewhere, the titles of the books desired by
different individuals were written upon cards and handed in. If it was
impossible to satisfy the demand thus expressed, the card was simply
returned, and such returns were far more frequent in the Berlin library
than in any other. Lepsius therefore directed that thenceforth the cards
containing such demands as could not be complied with should be kept,
and he made it the duty of the higher officials of the library to find
out whether the refusal was owing to any negligence of the subordinate
employees. The cards requiring books which could not be furnished were
preserved, and it was soon evident that certain books were repeatedly
called for. These were naturally such as were particularly important for
students, and Lepsius caused several copies of them to be immediately
procured. He also invited the most experienced professors to supply him
with the names of those works which were of special weight in their own
departments, but too costly to be procured by individuals of narrow
means. He proceeded upon the correct principle that precisely those
books which students could not buy for themselves should be at their
disposal in the library. According to his own reckoning, up to that time
a third of the books demanded had not been delivered, while a year after
he took the management only one-twelfth were not delivered. The scant
courtesy, indeed the incivility, of the Berlin library under Pertz, had
been really notorious, and presented a glaring contrast to the obliging
spirit encountered in the other large German libraries, especially those
of Göttingen, Munich and Leipsic. This bad reputation was in some
measure improved under the administration of Lepsius.
The multitude of duties which devolved upon the chief librarian did not
hinder him from continuing to hold the office of president of the board
of directors of the Archaeological Institute. This, although it
conferred honor, yet consumed much time. Lepsius had held the post since
Gerhard’s death in 1867, and when he became manager of the library the
directors were no less men than Haupt, Curtius, Mommsen, Kirchhoff, and
afterwards Hercher. Under his presidency the Institute had been enlarged
from a Prussian institution to a scientific institution of the whole
German empire. The construction of a stately building at the capital had
been authorized and completed. It was also largely owing to Lepsius that
the scholarships for young archaeologists were increased in number and
amount. The application for them constantly became more numerous, and
among the archaeologists were many philologists, who wished to
participate in the benefits of the Institute. The archaeologists
generally received the preference, but Lepsius specially and rightly
interested himself for the young private professors of the university
and the teachers at the gymnasiums. He desired that they might acquire
more elevated views of art, and a more enlightened conception of science
and of life, by a sojourn on the classical soil of Italy, where the
whole spiritual existence of a well-prepared and susceptible youth is so
easily broadened and ennobled. Entirely apart from whatever scientific
gains he may have won, the memory of Italy must illumine the teacher’s
life, his academical discourses, and even his dryest teaching, and lend
to all a higher inspiration. Lepsius was also enthusiastically
interested in the founding of a subordinate branch of the Roman
Institute at Athens, and exerted all the influence in his power in favor
of it. Ernest Curtius, “whose intellectual Fatherland is Greece,” showed
himself most active in carrying out this project. The correspondence
which Lepsius had to conduct, as president of the board of directors in
Berlin, had so increased that in 1874 he was obliged to write about
eighty letters in a quarter of a year. Since 1833 he had belonged to the
Institute as a corresponding member, since 1835 as a regular member,
since 1836, first as a director, and finally as presiding member of the
central board. When he retired in 1880 the Institute awarded him the
well-deserved honor by electing him an honorary member.
He had been made a Doctor of the Theological Faculty in Leipsic in 1859.
Since 1850 he had been a member of the Berlin Academy of Sciences, and
since 1858 a corresponding member of the _Institut de France_. He had
besides been elected member of almost half a hundred learned societies.
After the death of Trendelenburg, when the office of secretary of the
Berlin Academy of Sciences was vacant, he was asked if he would be
inclined to assume it, and only after his decided refusal, and at his
suggestion, was E. Curtius chosen. In 1872 he received the most
honorable of all German decorations, the order _pour le mérite_ for
science and the arts. He had already, in 1869, been appointed a knight
of the Bavarian order of Maximilian, which was closely related to the
foregoing. In 1883 he was appointed Government Upper Privy Councellor.
The unusual and numerous ovations which he received during the same year
upon the occasion of his Doctor’s Jubilee of fifty years, were such as
have fallen to the lot of but few scholars.
His later works on Egyptian art and the oldest texts of the “Book of the
Dead” have been already mentioned. Connected with these were a series of
valuable monographs[88] published in the Transactions and Monthly
Reports of the Berlin Academy of Sciences, and in the “Zeitschrift für
ägyptische Sprache und Alterthumskunde.” In his seventieth year, after
an apoplectic attack which slightly crippled his arm, he presented his
long-expected Nubian Grammar[89] to science.
This work, which marked an epoch, comprised the results of many years of
study. Throughout his whole life as a master workman he had been engaged
in arranging the philological material which he had acquired while in
Ethiopia and on the Blue Nile. He had illuminated this mass of knowledge
by profound study, and so greatly added to it that, as far as the works
then in existence permitted, he had gained a mastery over all branches
of language upon the African continent.
The introduction to this book, consisting of a hundred and twenty-six
pages, is in itself a colossal achievement. We devoted a special
treatise[90] to it soon after its appearance. By means of it the reader
is as it were raised upon a hovering cloud, whence he can survey all
Africa, and pass in review a portion of the early history of its
peoples. He is able, under the guidance of the most skillful of
commentators, to obtain thence a general view of all the African nations
and their languages. These are presented to him classified into zones
and groups, and in fact, in all those stages of their historical
existence which are accessible to investigation. This is particularly
the case with regard to those peoples with whom the book is especially
concerned. The author had recognized in the Nubians a branch of the
original African population, who never possessed a historical literature
in their own language, and it was no slight matter, from the records of
the Egyptians and the occasional reports of the Greeks, Romans and
Arabians, to construct the general outlines of a history which begins at
such an early period as the building of the pyramids, and ends with the
destruction of the great Christian Nubian kingdom at the end of the
thirteenth century after Christ.
Lepsius was also induced to construct a history of the Kushite peoples
from the records on the monuments of the struggles which the more feeble
Nubians had to sustain against that race. At an early date the Kushites
were in possession of both shores of the Red Sea, and had also made
themselves masters of the eastern bend of the Nile adjacent thereto.
Lepsius was also inspired by the desire to approach more nearly to a
solution of the problem whether the so-called Ethiopian stone
inscriptions, which were yet undeciphered and many of which are to be
found between Philae and the confluence of the two sources of the Nile,
were written in the African tongue of the Nubians, or in the Kushite
language. Of this latter the present Begá language, which is
comparatively little known must be considered the successor. This
portion of his work is one of the author’s boldest intellectual feats.
The chapters which he devotes to the Kushite Puna, as the predecessors
of the Phoenician colonists on the Mediterranean, and to their
emigration to Babylon, have roused much opposition, and have encountered
serious doubt even in ourselves. But other portions of this same
historical statement are of great value, and must give repeated impulse
to fresh investigation.
The final result of all these researches is that the key to the
“Ethiopian” inscriptions so frequently mentioned is to be sought, not in
the Nubian but in the Begá language, and the future, we think, will
prove the correctness of this supposition. Had Lepsius, during his long
journey, been in a position to arrive at those conclusions whence he
afterwards inferred the high historic and linguistic importance of the
Begá language, he would have given it the first place in his
philological researches. He would have devoted to it the thorough study
which, as a matter of fact, he gave to the Nubian tongue. The
fundamental and comprehensive manner in which he prosecuted this latter
study is proved by the second part of the work mentioned above, which
comprises the Nubian grammar and its rules of pronunciation, etymology
and syntax, as well as reading exercises. These include the whole Gospel
of St. Mark, the “Our Father,” and a series of Nubian songs, besides the
lexicon and scheme of the Nubian dialects. Good old Achmet Abu Nabbut, a
native of Derr, who was perfect master of two Nubian dialects, (the
Kennez and Mahas), and first introduced Lepsius to the Nubian tongue,
has been for months in my own service, and assures me that Lepsius was
the only European who knew how to write the language of his native land.
After Lepsius returned to Germany the Nubian ‘Ali wed Schaltuf, whom
Count W. von Schlieffen had brought from Africa with him, also did him
good service. The Nubian Grammar is certainly a useful work in itself,
but the magnificent introduction which precedes it is of yet greater
weight and higher significance. It may be described as the beautiful and
enduring result of many years of faithful industry and difficult
preparatory labor,[91] upon a wide domain of research which had been
almost untrodden before.
Max Müller, a faithful friend of the departed, and of his family, has
made the following appropriate remarks on this introduction: “While most
comparative philologists are at present absorbed in details regarding
the character of the possible dialectal diversities of individual
vowels and consonants, Professor Lepsius draws with bold strokes the
mighty outlines of a history of language which covers four or five
thousand years, and embraces the whole continent of Africa and the
neighboring coasts of Asia. As the admirers of Gerard Douw shake their
heads before the immense surfaces which Paul Veronese has covered with
color, so we can readily understand that scholars who are absorbed in
the question whether the Arian language had originally four or five
distinct “A’s,” turn with a sort of terror from investigations like
those of Lepsius, where languages are traced back to a common origin.
Happily there is room for both in science, for the Gerard Douws and the
Veroneses; indeed it is to be sincerely desired in the interests of
science that the two styles may ever exist side by side. There is still
much rough work to be done among the hitherto unstudied languages of the
world, and for this work the bold, far-seeing eye of the huntsman is far
more necessary than the concentrated labor of the philological
microscopist.”
For the rest, the Grammar contains much which shows with how fine an ear
and sense of detail its author was endowed. He has also proved himself
to be a microscopist in his chronological and metrological
investigations. To these, as we know, he remained faithful to the end.
The effects of his apoplectic attack could not break down his vigorous
nature, and his last papers in the “Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache
and Alterthumskunde,” his controversial treatise against Herr Dörpfeld,
his “Linear Measures of the Ancients,” best prove that the vigor and
acuteness of his mind were entirely untouched by this ominous
misfortune, and by the heavy blows of destiny which he encountered
during the last years of his life.
Lepsius’ career as a Master Workman ended with his life. He was a
diligent and faithful laborer up to the boundaries of this earthly
existence. He, the Senior Master of a most ambitious branch of study,
has laid down his office of pioneer and leader. Egyptology, to which he
consecrated the best part of his great powers, will deserve the name of
a science so long as she follows the way which the departed pointed out
to her. In him the Berlin university lost one of its ornaments, and the
Fatherland an investigator who, far beyond its borders, was accounted
one of the most eminent of his time.
[Illustration: THE HOME OF LEPSIUS.]
THE HOME OF LEPSIUS.
Since Lepsius’ fortunate entrance into the haven of matrimony we have
devoted our whole attention to estimating his scientific achievements as
a master workman, leaving unmentioned his personal experiences, except
so far as they fell within the sphere of his scholarly labors. We
thought it better to depict his domestic life, and the man Lepsius, in
the circle of his family and friends, quite apart from his scientific
occupations. These latter were carried on in the sanctuary of his study,
in the lecture room, or in the public library. No one ever understood
more thoroughly than he how to disengage his mind from his special
pursuits, and to enjoy intercourse with wife or child, with individuals
or general society. None better knew how to participate with both
intellect and heart in animated conversations on art or literature,
science or politics. His special acquirements remained hidden until a
desire was expressed for information on such subjects, and he was
appealed to.
The Lepsius who returned from the Orient and founded a home of his own,
was essentially different from the young scholar who had been reckoned
among the conservatives in Göttingen, and whom we saw indignantly quit
Schleiermacher’s lectures on the Life of Jesus, in Berlin. During a long
sojourn in England, which had brought him into connection with the
leaders of political life, he had learned to appreciate the rights of
the people, and the advantages of a free state under a constitutional
government. He had spent three years in the East under unusual
conditions, always in a position of authority and subject to none. What
can so quickly expand even the most limited views, what can more
certainly conduce to an unfettered and vigorous use of existence, what
can more strengthen even the feeblest self-confidence, what can lead
with more imperious necessity to self-examination and to knowledge of
one’s own faults and merits, than a prolonged sojourn in the East, and
in the silent desert?
He had returned home entirely self-reliant, understanding himself and
his aims, and capable of maintaining his own stand in the face of
opposition. He had become a free-thinker of dispassionate and temperate
views, who had learned to despise the barriers which prejudices and
one-sided opinions of every kind malevolently set between men. He no
longer held to the dogmas and formulas of a circumscribed confession,
but he still adhered to that Christ to whom his free-thinking father had
taught him to look up as the harbinger of pure self-sacrificing human
love.
And the choice of this man had fallen upon a maiden of eighteen years.
All who knew her as a bride speak of her as a charming, happy creature,
full of childlike archness. But nevertheless passionate blood ran
through the veins of this young girl; Elizabeth’s finely cultivated mind
was restless and over-active, and her soul was completely filled with
ardent and fanatical religious zeal.
What contrasts! Seldom has there been a pair in every respects so
different; and yet they confirmed Schiller’s lines: “For where the
severe with the tender, where the strong and the gentle unite.” Love was
the metal of that bell whose voice had drawn them together, and bound
them to each other for a life time. It gave forth a pleasant sound, and
only one discord, which became especially perceptible in their latter
years, and which was produced by the great difference in their religious
convictions. This disturbed his ear but slightly, for, calm and assured
of his own aims, happy in his work and in his life, he devoted his time
to labor and science, and his intervals of recreation to his children,
to social pleasures, to the learned societies of which he was a member,
to his garden, to music, whose pleasures he gladly shared with his wife,
and to his beloved chess. At first she had attempted to realize the
dream of her girlhood, and to kindle his heart with the fire of her own
enthusiasm; but in vain. Tranquilly and cheerfully he accompanied her to
church, and whenever his occupations permitted it, usually on Sunday, he
took part in the daily household worship which she had instituted. He
allowed her to train the children, and to instil into them that
religious feeling in which he himself was not wanting, and in which he
recognized the loveliest flower of the soul, and of the feminine soul
especially. But he warned her against excess and exaggeration, which
were so alien to his own nature, and possibly this unsympathetic
attitude towards what to her was highest and holiest, only contributed
to cause in her ardent heart still warmer devotion to the doctrines of
her positive Protestant faith. We should here assert, in the most
decided manner, that this devotion was of the most unobtrusive kind.
Frau Lepsius never gave it public manifestation, and the only ones whom
she allowed to share in it were her nearest relatives, her pastor, and
her diary. She was ever averse to the course of the zealots and
pietists, who enjoyed such palmy days under Frederick IV., and once, on
hearing a sermon by the famous pastor Knak, she left the church in
indignation. The noble Jonas and the excellent Kögel were her pastors,
and certainly had more frequently to moderate than to kindle her zeal.
Her husband saw no reason for serious interference with the excessive
religious aspirations of her soul, for to him she gave everything that a
man can ask from the companion of his existence: a heart overflowing
with love, esteem heightened to admiration, and a warm interest in all
his labors and productions, even the most abstruse. In addition to this
she cared with prudence, skill and indefatigable industry for the
management and embellishment of the home, and there were few houses
where the hostess was able to make her guests so thoroughly at ease.
Nothing was farther from her thoughts than a puritanical renunciation of
the pleasures and delights of this world, and she gave a zest to the
household festivals by the inexhaustible fertility of her ideas in the
way of original representations and spectacles. She pleased in society
by her amiability and wit; she was the best of mothers; and as the
children grew up she was so excellent and untiring a teacher that he,
who had never had any confidence in his own ability as a pedagogue, was
glad and thankful to resign to her the charge of the mental and moral
education of the children. Among them were boys who were hard to govern,
yet they all turned out excellently. In matters of charity he gave her
entire liberty.
The inner being of this rare woman lies plain before us, and we are
permitted to follow the life of the Lepsius family almost from day to
day. We ourselves visited the house of Lepsius only as a friend and
guest, but the diary of its mistress, some twenty volumes, makes us a
member of the household. It is honest, simple, and yet written with
great intuitive perception. A number of poems are intermingled with the
excellent prose. They are mostly of religious tenor, and many of them
are distinguished by their lofty strain and beautiful thoughts. The
perusal of this journal has therefore afforded us genuine pleasure, and
it has exhibited to our soul as well as to our sight, the character of a
woman so singular and noble in her love, her activity and her aspiration
that we separate from it with sincere admiration, but also with deep
regret. It would be to abuse a great trust, were we to yield to the
desire to portray the character of its author from the avowals contained
in this journal, and yet this would excite quite different, and tenfold
greater, interest than that of her husband. For how much less alluring
to the psychologist is the calm progress of a man who came early to
maturity, his successful contests with the impulses of youth, and his
tranquil labors after the goal was attained, than the ceaseless
struggles of a woman distinguished above thousands by the ardor of her
soul and the keenness of her intellect. Yet we may be at least allowed
to extract from the diary all that can serve to give the reader a clear
idea of life in the home of Lepsius, its intercourse with the outside
world, and the experiences of its head as a husband, and as a member of
a select society.
Every betrothal has its history. Lilli (Elizabeth) Klein,[92] who was
greatly admired, had done some friends the favor to appear at an
entertainment as the fourteenth guest. The ominous number thirteen was
caused by Lepsius’ declining the invitation at a late moment. But,
nevertheless, he appeared, after all the guests were assembled, and it
was on this occasion that she made his acquaintance. “Oh Superstition”
she wrote in her diary, “for the first time I bless thee.”
Even this first meeting had carried the day with her. The next Sunday
she could not help thinking of him during the sermon, and when she
visited him with several of her relations, amongst whom there were some
young ladies, to inspect the curiosities which he had brought with him
from the Orient, her young heart was not only disturbed, but deeply
troubled, because he seemed to have paid more attention to her sister
than to her, and she already loved him.
The following day put an end to her anxiety. It was a Palm Sunday, and
that evening he wrote in his term-calendar “To-day the palm of life is
won,” while, at a later hour, she confided to her diary the rejoicings
of her heart. She prefaced the sentences with which she gave expression
to her rapture by Chamisso-Schubert’s “I cannot understand it, I cannot
believe it.”
She continues: “God, my God, how shall I thank thee for this unutterable
bliss! No, it is too great and too much, my Heavenly Father. ‘Beloved!’
Beloved by him! My heart is full, but I cannot write! My soul rejoices
in the thought; Beloved by him! But how can I prove myself worthy of
him?”
The letters which he wrote to Elizabeth also lie before us, and it is
not without deep emotion that we read these beautiful effusions of
tender passion from the profoundly touched heart of a man to whom we had
been accustomed to look up as an earnest teacher, and the dignified
senior master of our science. Here we see him succumb with lovable
weakness to a beautiful human emotion.
The passion for his “Lilli” compensates him for the magic of the East,
which he had felt so deeply a short time before, and he calls her his
“Shulamite” and his “Rose of Sharon.” Yet even in the bonds of love he
preserves the fundamental instincts of his soul, and he writes to her:
“Often and earnestly do I ask myself, my dear Lilli, whether it is not
after all ignoble selfishness, when I feel such intense bliss in your
devoted love, and in the consciousness that I have won you, so ardently
beloved a spirit, for my own. But then again I feel that through your
love all that is good in me is helped and strengthened, and I become
capable of a higher and purer love towards God and our fellow beings,
and then it seems as if it could not be wrong to desire such a relation
with all the strength of one’s soul; as if this happiness were our
vocation, seldom however to be attained untroubled, and never entirely
unalloyed, upon this earth. Oh, my Lilli, what a rare and rich life
would lie before us if the thoughts which we have exchanged in our
letters should one day become an actual living reality, not only in word
but in deed.”
The pure exultation of a maiden’s heart, overpowered by true love,
re-echoes from her diary throughout the whole time of the betrothal. It
is true that there were many differences of opinion between the
betrothed, especially when religious questions were discussed, but his
cheerful serenity was always able to make amends for whatever might have
wounded her feelings in such disputes, and, taken as a whole, their
betrothal was one long happy festival. He taught her the hieroglyphic
alphabet, and wrote out for her little protestations of love in the
picture writing of the old Egyptians. The learned man of five and thirty
was unwearied in the invention of tender speeches, and it must have
pleased Elizabeth-Lilli to have heard herself called, both in his
letters and from his lips, by eighteen pet names,--she counted them
herself. There was no lack on his side of verses, flowers, and acts of
homage. In the house of the Partheys, who had adopted the orphan niece
as a daughter, entertainment followed upon entertainment, gay excursions
to the country were arranged, and masquerades, at which Elizabeth was
obliged to appear in Turkish dress. But this gay life was contrary to
her inclinations and to his likewise. The wedding was celebrated on the
fifth of July, 1846, not in the old Nicolai house in Behren Street,
where they had first known each other, but at Dresden. The excellent
pastor Jonas, from Berlin, performed the marriage ceremony in the Church
of Our Lady, and after a brilliant wedding banquet the young couple went
to Pirna, the first stopping-place in a longer wedding trip which took
them, by way of Paris, to England. There they were cordially received by
the Bunsens, and the young wife found the eminent statesman and patron
of her husband so kind and friendly that her fear of appearing
embarrassed before him proved entirely unfounded.[93] She described
vividly everything noteworthy that occurred to her, and depicted with a
bold and ready pen the impression made on her by men and things. She saw
her Richard received everywhere with the same respect and cordiality;
the light of his fame enveloped and delighted her, but on their journey
home a charming attention fell to her lot also, for at Cologne her
father’s great mass, which she never yet heard, was performed in the
most admirable manner as a mark of respect to her.
On the seventeenth of September they returned to Berlin, and “Richard”
writes Elizabeth, “was forced to laugh at the childish delight which I
showed in the beautiful big house, our own house, (in Behren Street)
where I am to be mistress.”
They were soon installed, and the young couple, who were freed from all
material anxiety by the comfortable property of the wife and the salary
of the husband, could now return the hospitality which had been offered
them on all sides. In spite of her strict piety the wife showed herself
as much inclined as was her husband to social intercourse with agreeable
guests. A few weeks after their return the young couple entertained a
number of friends, and who these were we see from the memoranda before
us. On the third of November, 1846, there met at their house Gerhard, v.
Olfers, Homeyer, Max Müller, the Grimm brothers, Parthey, Carl Ritter,
Ehrenberg, Lachmann, L. Ranke and E. Curtius. On the fifteenth of
December there were assembled there A. v. Humboldt (who also visited
them on other occasions, and for whom, Frau Elizabeth writes, she felt a
genuine affection) v. Olfers, Boeckh, Pertz, Cornelius, v. Reumont, the
Grimm brothers, Homeyers, Strack, the Partheys, Schelling and Bethmann.
Such a company of illustrious men could at that time be brought together
nowhere but in Berlin, and if we consult the diary of Frau Lepsius and
Lepsius’ later note-books, and appeal to our own memory, we shall und
that the assemblage of noted colleagues and countrymen was constantly
increased by a number of eminent strangers. Amongst them were scholars,
travelers, statesmen, artists, and even the ambassadors of foreign
powers, who were unwilling to leave Berlin without having visited the
house of Lepsius. The most faithful friend of the family, beside the
Partheys and Pinders, was the valued traveling companion of the young
husband, Abeken, who had renounced his career as a divine, and was
constantly rising to higher and higher positions in the Foreign Office.
How kindly Frederick William IV. was disposed to Lepsius may be inferred
from the fact that soon after the return of the latter from his wedding
trip the King sent him fifteen hundred thalers towards the establishment
of the new household. Frau Elizabeth writes: “It is altogether a
peculiar feeling; to have in hand such a large sum that seems as if it
had fallen from heaven. I was quite troubled about our great good
fortune in material things, and I reminded Richard of the ring of
Polycrates. But as I read the day after in a letter from C. P. to
Richard: ‘Whoever has behind him such a fruitful and undesecrated youth
as you have, has a right to make claims upon life, which will not fail
to reward you abundantly.’ Nevertheless one is astonished, and such a
distribution of fortune seems almost unjust, if one considers what an
immeasurable sum and what great wealth such a gift would be to poor
people, and how to Richard it was only a pleasant proof of the King’s
good-will, which he calmly put in the fund for setting our house in
order. Five hundred thalers he reserved for current expenses, and soon
it had all vanished as it had come.”
In his own house Lepsius stood at the helm with a steady hand, but his
wife ever strove to make his voyage through life pleasant and happy.
Her struggle for greater calmness and a more equable nature is touching,
as is the loving humility with which she recognizes his superiority; and
often does a phrase, an interjection, in the midst of matter-of-fact
records, give expression to her true and tender love. She says: “It is
grand in Richard, that he can take everything so naturally. It comes
from his perfect honesty; if I could only educate myself up to him.”
When her first little daughter was able to stand alone she wrote:
“Richard and Anna, these names embrace my whole happiness, the fragrant
blooming shower of blessings which Our Father in Heaven pours upon me
from the abundant horn of plenty of His grace and love.”
The diaries are replete with such expressions. Especially neat and
pointed are the little sketches of eminent men drawn by the young wife.
Whoever was personally acquainted with Master Peter Cornelius, (he was
a friend of my mother’s, and indeed once made a portrait of me as a
boy), will admit that it would not be possible to depict his external
appearance more neatly and pointedly than in the following words from
the diary of Frau Lepsius. She writes: “A little, thick-set man, with a
black peruke, piercing black eyes, wide, kindly mouth, and with thought
upon his wrinkled brow.”
On the twenty-fifth of July, 1847, a daughter was granted to the young
couple. She received the name of Isis Anna. Minister Jonas, the
liberal-minded pastor of the household, found nothing wrong in the
choice of the name of the heathen divinity Isis, but strange to say,
Bunsen took serious exception to it, and gave expression to his
disapproval in a letter. The happy father answered in the following
letter, in which we see pleasantly manifested the joyous zest in life by
which he was at that time animated.
“Our little Isis gives us infinite delight; she thrives splendidly.
Her mamma has carried her point by giving her the name of Anna. I
foresaw that I should furnish a subject for witticisms, in the name
of Isis, to those people in Berlin who honor us with their
attention. It is necessary to throw them a few crumbs of that sort
from time to time, so that they may not devise something worse. I
was as little able to find any serious scandal in it as was the
excellent Jonas who administered the baptism. Scarcely any one
keeps to the Calendar for the sake of the Calendar itself, and I
should much prefer Friedhelm and Maxhelene, the children’s names
recently given by Ranke, to the Fides, Spes and Charitas, or Titus,
Ptolemeus, Sosthenes, Lot, Habakkuk, Methuselah, etc., of the
Calendar. Yet Ranke comes very near to offending against the only
limitation which I should admit; that of not choosing ludicrous
names. Take Erica, Berenice, (that is Veronica,) or Emin, which is
the name of young Wildenbruch, the elder brother of the talented
poet Ernest von Wildenbruch; no one has anything against such names
as these and innumerable others, though they too are as little in
the Calendar, and have as little Christian precedent, as a hundred
thousand ἁπαξ λεγόμευα from the birth of Christ to our time, in all
Christian countries. Besides, Isis, to every one who knows the
Egyptian goddess, is a very honorable name, which can only recall
the author of all good, a faithful spouse and sister, the model and
recognized prototype of all queens. What the Romans made of her
need trouble us as little as their opinion of the image of Jehovah
in the Jewish temple, and can as little cast suspicion upon her as
can the Christianity of the Königsberg impostors upon the name of
Christian. If, in another year, I have a boy to baptize I shall not
be obliged to call him Apis, as Osiris is already received in the
Christian Calendar, under a much more beautiful form as
Onophrius.[94] But I will take care not to impose upon him the
equally Christian name of the Typhon, “Set.” I should like to see
any one who would not as utterly fail in any theory for the giving
of Christian names, as did, not long since, the law forbidding the
Jews to bear Christian names. But, on the other hand, I consider it
very wise to give the clergy a certain freedom to exclude
unsuitable, scandalous names of every kind, according to their own
honest judgment.”
Little Anna was followed by a second girl, Elizabeth,[95] and the latter
by four boys, to the delight of the grandfather in Naumburg. For
although he had been blessed with six sons and three daughters,
strangely enough, he had had bestowed upon him no other “Lepsius”
grandchildren that those who sprung from the marriage of his son
Richard.
After the christening of Anna the family spent some delightful weeks in
lovely Ilsenburg. The winter was passed in cheerful sociability and
quiet enjoyment of their first-born, till in February, 1848, all other
interests were entirely overshadowed by the news of the revolution at
Paris. Lepsius had already foreseen when in Paris the downfall of the
citizen king Louis Philippe, and though he hoped that the next movement
for freedom in France would be of benefit to the political development
of Germany and Prussia, yet he feared that in those countries also
violent uprisings of the people would be unavoidable.
Each day was filled with increasing anxiety, the danger approached more
closely, and yet,--a notable sight--there was no break in the
fulfillment of the husband’s duties, and everything held its accustomed
course in the household, as well as in the social life of the capital.
Apprehension was aroused for Vienna, on account of the dreadful
Metternich administration; all ears were on the watch for every rumor.
The Emperor of Russia was said to have been poisoned, Metternich to have
been seized with an apoplectic fit in consequence of the news from
Paris, and the Pope to have taken flight, and abandoned Rome. In spite
of the tumult of the people on the streets during every evening of this
remarkably beautiful month of March, anxiety for Berlin was dissipated,
as in well informed circles they believed it certain that the King was
inclined to make great concessions. At last political interests overcame
all others, and the grave academical instructor Lepsius, in his private
lectures conversed with his pupils on the events of the day, instead of
discussing Egyptology. Then on the eighteenth of March the Berlin
revolution broke out, in the midst of the concessions of the King, and
the rejoicing of the populace. We are in possession of interesting
information on the course of this revolution, from the husband as well
as from the wife. In those days politics had such power over every true
man that even Lepsius took part in them incidentally. When Abeken
brought him a paper much needed just at that time, a good concise
proclamation for the Prince of Prussia, whom Lepsius especially
esteemed, he immediately carried it to the press which was working for
him, and had the foreman print, post, and distribute it. He understood
perfectly that the revolution indicated a great step forward in the
political life of his Fatherland, and his wife says that the
Kreuzzeitung people, in an underhand way, placed them in a false
position. The Bismarck family had lived in the same house with the
Lepsiuses, and once when popular songs of liberty and “Not yet, not yet,
is Poland lost,” had been sung during a social evening at their rooms,
Frau Elizabeth writes: “Thank God that the Bismarcks have left, or he
would have got us into the Kreuzzeitung as Republicans.” How times and
men change! These latter, fortunately, sometimes to better and greater.
In September, 1848, Lepsius went to Frankfort, and from his letters to
his wife we know with what warm interest he there followed the
parliamentary transactions in St. Paul’s Church. He had learned many
things from the statesman Bunsen, and we have seen (page 122) how keenly
he followed, from time to time, the course of ecclesiastical politics in
Prussia. On the whole his political opinions agreed with those of his
patron in London. He wished to be not only a scholar and father, but a
citizen also, and in 1848, he held it right “that every one should at
least follow _some_ banner, and a bad one rather than none at all.”
In the beginning of the year 1849, the political situation threatened to
make it intolerable for his father to remain in Naumburg, under the
authority of the town commissioners of that place (he had resigned his
public office in 1847). Therefore Richard wrote to him: “If you should
actually resolve to leave Naumburg, here in Berlin you would certainly
find much the greatest satisfaction for your higher intellectual
pursuits and interests, which in themselves rank far above all political
interests. Libraries, art collections, learned societies of every kind
would be open to you, and in the more restricted circle of our own
household, our relations and most intimate friends, you would once more
find, as of old, peace, happiness and love, which have grown to be the
greatest necessity of your life.”
In spite of the slight value which he allotted in these sentences to
political interests, he yet followed the political development of his
Fatherland to the last with warm sympathy. In 1849 he attributed the
King’s change to a policy independent of Austria to Bunsen’s influence,
and as events continued to shape themselves in a more and more gloomy
fashion, he constantly insisted upon the necessity for a stronger
exhibition of Prussian power, as due to the hegemony of Germany.
He owed great gratitude to Frederick William IV. and acknowledged very
thankfully the favor which this monarch had manifested to him
personally, and the appreciation which he had always shown for his works
and efforts. But in 1850, he already spoke with deep anxiety of Prussian
politics. The Waldeck Process filled him with indignation, and in 1850,
Frau Elizabeth, who was the echo of her husband’s opinions, writes in
the journal: “Our proud Prussia, the only refuge of German hopes, once
more subject to the commands of Russia and Austria!... I have never seen
Richard so depressed on account of politics as he is now. I have seen
tears in W. Grimm’s eyes over Prussia’s,--Germany’s,--disgrace.... The
Prince of Prussia must be beside himself at the shameful turn of
affairs.... He will now be looked upon by all parties as the sole
salvation of Prussia.” After the humiliation at Olmütz, and the brave
stand of the Hessians for their constitution, she writes: “Jacob Grimm
said lately, ‘I am proud to be a Hessian.’ Alas for us, poor creatures,
that we must say ‘Let every Prussian be ashamed!’ In the worst days of
the revolution people were not so desperate and hopeless, so utterly
overwhelmed as now.... The king approves of everything, and is pleased
and cheerful!” Nevertheless she was warmly attached to Frederick William
IV. and says of him: “What a character! So noble, so conscientious, so
kind, with such a comprehensive mind,--and yet he is not a great man.”
Later, after Frederick William IV. had left Berlin and removed to
Potsdam, Lepsius wrote to his father: “Here the departure of the king
has the effect of a death upon us. The recollection of him is very
painful. On the other hand, new life springs up with the regency of the
prince. Without precipitation, and with due calmness, many changes will
soon be made, first in the leading men, and afterwards in the general
tendencies.” Lepsius gave lively expression to his delight at the dawn
of the so-called “new era.”
With what enthusiasm did he afterwards follow the upraising of his
Fatherland under King William I. Our noble Emperor was ever a gracious
master to him, and Lepsius was always among the chosen few invited to
the evening tea-drinkings in the imperial palace. To our colleague
Dümichen the Emperor spoke of Egyptology as “a science which our Lepsius
has called to life in Germany.” To the author of this biography also the
same great emperor, in the presence of their royal highnesses, the
Grand-Duke and the Grand-Duchess of Baden, expressed himself with a
warmth bordering on friendship regarding the great master of his
science.
The following occurrence, related by Frau Lepsius, is characteristic of
Frederick William IV. and his relation to Humboldt. A friend had been
invited to Potsdam with Lepsius and some others, and while there
ingenuously begged the king to speak a good word for him to the Duke of
Brunswick, who was also present. The applicant wished to be appointed
Musical Director at Brunswick. The monarch answered: “I cannot do
anything for you in this matter; you must apply to Humboldt.”
All men of intellectual eminence who came to Berlin always visited the
house of Lepsius. The excellent missionary, Krapf, was once a guest
there, and was invited to court with Lepsius. At table, the king asked
the missionary, philologist and geographer, “How long do you propose to
remain in Africa?” and the latter answered: “Until I am dead. All my
family are buried there, and where they are is my home.”
Besides his colleagues from the university and native and foreign
scholars, deputies to the Chamber, of all shades of opinion, also
frequented Lepsius’ house. It not only gave Frau Elizabeth the greatest
pleasure to listen to the conversation of these men, which often took
the form of lively debates, but it was also of real advantage to her.
Three years after her marriage she writes: “These distinguished persons,
with their different ways of thinking, strengthen the tolerance which
lies in Richard’s character, and teach me to accept and find pleasure in
each one as he is.”
On the ninth of November, 1851, was solemnized the baptism of the third
child and first son.[96] The godparents were the grandfather Lepsius,
Bunsen, represented by Abeken, Jacob Grimm, the great geographer Charles
Ritter, Ehrenberg, and several other ladies and gentlemen.
Lepsius had invited Bunsen to become a sponsor in the following words:
“As you have more or less stood godfather to all my intellectual
productions, I naturally have a lively wish that one of my real
children might enter into this beautiful and reverential relation
with you. Your friendly sympathy, and the fatherly love which you
have always bestowed upon me, far beyond my capacity for any
fitting return, permit me to hope that you will willingly fulfil
this desire also. But for the child your name will be a dower whose
value will increase with every year, and I already rejoice in
spirit over the time when I can finally lead him to a full
understanding of its significance. My wife insists that he shall be
called by my name; but besides that he shall be named Charles,
after my father, after you, and after Charles Ritter. Between these
two we may perhaps insert a third, about which we are still
hesitating, but it shall be neither a Pacomius, an Onophrius nor a
Nilus, but an honest German name, possibly Jacob, after your
fellow-godfather, Jacob Grimm, etc.”
At the christening it turned out that George and not Jacob had been
chosen as the third name. This was after the first known ancestor of the
Lepsius family, George Leps.[97] The christening feast was a merry one,
and the godmother has given a brief account of the toasts which were
drunk. That delivered by Jacob Grimm to the health of the godfathers is
so characteristic of him that to everyone acquainted with this
magnificent scholar and man it must seem as delightful as to the
godmother it must have been agitating. “I like,” so he began, “to come
to the christening of a child: it is always more agreeable than a
wedding or a funeral feast, where one usually sees nothing of the
principal persons.” He then found fault with the christenings of the
present day, the numerous godfathers, wherein the young Charles George
Richard was not lacking, and said that “formerly it was much more solemn
than now. Then there were only two godparents, the child was entirely
stripped--there was more to be seen--and it was first plunged under
water in the font, and then covered with a little shirt. More account
was made of the godparents. After baptism the child had to go to them on
every holiday, and received a gift from them. The church regarded
baptism as a regeneration, and therefore it was considered of much
greater importance; on this account the child was baptized
_immediately_.” Then he said that usually the godparents did not long
survive the child’s baptism (general contradiction), “his godfather had
died half a year after his christening; however the boy could learn his
name out of the books. The boy had three names, and that was
particularly _stupid_.” (This word was strongly emphasized, and Frau
Lepsius’ temper waxed hot). “He certainly only needed _one_, for when he
was fooling around on the street with other boys and his mother wanted
to call to him out of the window, she would not cry:
‘Charles-George-Richard come here,’ but ‘Richard, come here!’ He had
waited and listened, to see if the minister would not pronounce ‘Jacob’
too, but in vain. What was there though in that name to take exception
to? It was indeed a Jewish name, but still Jacob had been a good man,
and he could tell of many excellent people who had been called Jacob.
The name pleased him very well, and it grieved him that the child had
not been called by it.”
To these latter words Frau Lepsius adds the remark: “It grieved me too
very much at that moment, and still more afterwards.”
Here we will break off the description of this toast. It had touched the
honest man very nearly that he had to share with so many others the
honor of being godfather to the first-born son of his beloved Lepsius,
and he would have liked to see the little one grow up with his own good
name, as he had been led to expect. It was never his way to conceal his
feelings; but nothing was farther from the childlike nature of this man,
who in science was a giant, than any intention of giving pain.
His image still lives most vividly in my soul. For many years my mother,
and I with her, inhabited the same house with the Grimms, in Lenné
street, and I know how right Frau Lepsius was, when she said in her
diary that there was in all the world nothing more benevolent and
kind-hearted than William Grimm’s wife: that every one must feel to her
as towards a beloved mother. The kindness and cheerful friendliness with
which she added to the happiness of all of us brothers and sisters,--who
among us has forgotten them? When Jacob met me on the way to school he
always stroked my hair, and said: “Hurry, Flaxen-head.” It was Jacob
Grimm who afterwards introduced me to Lepsius: Frau Grimm I saw for the
last time when I was ill in bed, and she brought me a delicious cooling
drink of fruit juice. Every memory of her is connected with something
kind and lovely.
If we except Abeken, the most beloved of all the learned friends of the
Lepsius family were the Grimms and Gerhard, whose wife was Frau
Elizabeth’s intimate friend. This cordial feeling also extended to the
children of William Grimm, and especially to Hermann, whose first poetic
essays they watched with affection, but with impartial criticism.
So passed the weeks and months. The winter was given to work and social
pleasures in the city; in the summer the wife and children went into the
country. Longer journeys, such as the trip to upper Italy, were usually
undertaken in the autumn. The family were very comfortable at
Park-Birkenwäldchen near Berlin. In 1852 this was completely in the
country, but it has long since been absorbed by the metropolis of
Berlin. The husband often went thither to see his family, friends
accompanied him, and in the repose of this rustic life Frau Elizabeth
prepared the index for the letters from Egypt and Ethiopia. They were
dedicated to A. v. Humboldt, and he received them with gratitude and
emotion, although, to Lepsius’ regret, the friendship between them had
been troubled, in consequence of an affair which concerns people who are
still living, and therefore cannot be spoken of here.
In the summer of 1852, the first numbers of the great work on monuments
were completed. But they had not yet been sent out, although Lepsius for
several months had been insisting on their distribution. Finally he went
once more to Sans Souci to urge the expediting of the matter upon
Niebuhr, and found him walking with Gerlach upon a terrace. Just then
the King stepped out on an upper terrace, and when he became aware of
the Egyptologist called down to him “Lepsius, Lepsius.”
The monarch then shook him by the hand, and a conversation ensued which,
on account of its characteristic turn, we will give just as it was
recorded immediately afterwards.
King: “I have not seen you for along time. You have grown quite stout.”
Lepsius makes some reply, and then speaks of the delay in distributing
the completed numbers of the great work.
King (to Niebuhr): “Tell me exactly how it stands?”
Niebuhr: “It is just as Lepsius represents it. Your Majesty has
commanded the distribution, but the order has not been carried out.”
King: “Why, what delays it?”
Niebuhr: “I have already written three times to the Minister about it.”
King: “What Minister?”
Niebuhr: “Raumer.”
King: “Oh, then I understand it! If he has anything to do, it is always
a year before it is finished. But don’t repeat that to him. Complain
once more, Niebuhr!”
“Richard has also heard from Humboldt that the object of Niebuhr’s
mysterious mission this spring (1852), was to invite Bunsen to
resign,[98] which he, naturally, politely deprecated. And who was it
they wished to put in his place? Bismarck Schönhausen, that smart,
self-conceited young fellow! This is grand!”
Later Frau Elizabeth learned to appreciate fully this “smart young
fellow.”
That autumn Lepsius went alone to England and Scotland. In London he
worked successfully for the introduction of his standard alphabet. He
went by way of Leyden, and again immersed himself in the treasures of
the museum there, and enjoyed the hospitality of the excellent Leemans.
It was at Warmond, on the estate of the mother of the distinguished
Egyptologist and Director of the Museum that the idea of making a
similar delightful summer house for his own family first occurred to
him.
In September Frau Elizabeth journeyed to meet him at Strasburg, where
she was hospitably received by the family of Kreis, her husband’s
student friend. She then returned home with her husband by way of
Stuttgart, Munich and Nüremberg.
The old life began anew after their return. In addition to the
accustomed guests came also General von Radowitz and Count Raczynski,
both of whom Frau Lepsius characterizes sharply and aptly. She concludes
with the following parallel, after she has mentioned how astonishing the
wit and knowledge of Radowitz appear to her: “Raczynski does not lead
the conversation, he rather watches it, and lets himself be talked to;
on this account he likes the society of clever people, while Radowitz
prefers an astonished and attentive audience, as he is always striving
to make an impression.”
But such distinguished visitors were the exception: their large and
inspiring circle of acquaintances was almost exclusively composed of the
leaders of the Berlin literati. When there was no company in the
evening, and Lepsius was not attending any of the societies of which we
shall have to speak, he played chess, and liked to have his wife play on
the piano at the same time. Often too there were “musical evenings” in
which both husband and wife took part, together with guests, like
Hermann Grimm and others, who were not members. In the winter of
1852-53, a numerous company assembled nearly every week at the Lepsius
house. On the seventh of April we hear of their giving a large ball.
“The Old Guard comes to the front,” writes Frau Elizabeth. “Even I
resolved to dance again after an interval of eight years. At first it
seemed strange to me to be whirling round, but by degrees I took
pleasure in it again, especially in dancing with Richard, who was really
a very delightful host. It is so charming in him,--the way in which he
does everything that he has to do with his whole heart and without any
reserve, whether it be grave or gay.”
The pleasures of this winter were soon brought to an end, for the
mistress of the house lost her dearest friend, and in April died the
excellent father of the master of the house. The affliction of Lepsius
was great.
“Of all the family his father was nearest to him,” says Frau Elizabeth.
“He always felt the greatest delight and the most genuine sympathy in
everything that concerned Richard, in all his labors, his successes, his
honors; with him Richard could talk freely of all his intellectual
interests, for he understood all abstruse questions, and had, besides,
the strongest paternal feeling; delighted in our children, etc....
Richard thinks now with every book that when he has written it, he can
no longer give his father pleasure by sending it to him.”
A quiet season followed, and in their domestic retirement during the
ensuing months they made some experiments at table-tipping, according to
the current fashion at that time. They were very successful, and the
enthusiasm of the mistress of the house and her interest in the
supernatural were strongly excited; Lepsius himself treated the subject
more coolly. “Richard, Abeken and Edward saw that we lifted up our hands
by degrees, and yet the table moved; but, because it did not do so
again, Richard thinks we had deceived ourselves.”
When at last the formal mourning was laid aside, and life again imposed
its demands upon the Lepsiuses, the remembrance of the festival of
1852-53, formed the foundation for many charming performances, whose
theatre was to be the new house which the married pair were about to
build.
In October, 1853, the family had received notice to quit their dwelling
in Behren Street, on account of the sale of the property, and they had
therefore resolved to build a home of their own. With the same
enthusiasm with which she threw herself into everything, Frau Elizabeth
became interested in the carrying out of this idea, and, scale in hand,
drew plan after plan, until she at last completed a design which met
with the approval of her husband and his friends the architects,
especially Erbkam. In fact it provided for all the family needs; but the
choice of a building site was difficult. Lepsius at first fixed his eye
upon the great Seeger lumber yard, which was at that time on the drill
ground, now the Royal Square. It was then just about to be divided up,
but the lots there were so dear, and the owner felt so confident of the
purchase of the whole plot by the Treasury, that Lepsius was forced to
look about for another situation. Long weeks passed in this search, and,
among other strangers, the Lepsiuses received Oscar von Redwitz, before
breaking up housekeeping for the summer to go with some intimate friends
on a journey to Lübeck. The diary says of him: “He is the poet of the
sentimental-religious Catholic Amaranth, which is so much read, (though
not by us), and admired. He is a lively young Viennese, naïve, but not
at all sentimental, so that he is better than his work.” The future
undoubtedly proved that this talented poet was capable of things far
more charming than what were at that time his most celebrated works.
The wife and children passed the rest of the summer in beautiful
Friedrichroda, Elgersburg and Ilmenau in Thüringia, while the husband
went to Schlieffenberg in Mecklenburg, whither he had been invited by
Count Schlieffen, who had traveled through Egypt intelligently and with
open eyes and who had brought home with him a Nubian from the
neighborhood of the Cataract. As we know, Lepsius made use of this
African, named ‘Ali’, who was an intelligent man and had entire command
of his own language, to supply many deficiencies in the Nubian grammar,
at which he still continued to work.
In January, 1854, the Berlin Academy of Sciences had resolved to have
type cast for printing Lepsius’ standard alphabet, and before the
beginning of February, he traveled once more to London in order to
assure the acceptance of it on the other side of the Channel. The
well-known missionary Kölle had already declared that he should make use
of it. While Lepsius was working there with tact and success to
introduce his alphabet, his wife became the mother of a boy, who, after
the father’s return, received the name of Bernard at a merry and
delightful christening feast. This was the Christian name of Frau
Lepsius’ father, the celebrated composer, B. Klein. Among the many
god-parents of the child were A. v. Humboldt, the Counts von Schlieffen
and von Usedom, Peters, etc. Frau Lepsius was especially pleased with
the presence of Humboldt after the estrangement which had taken place
between him and Lepsius, but the obliging manner in which he said to
her: “I thank you especially for having had the kindness to give the
child my name,” could not inspire her with any warmth of feeling. E.
Curtius’ daughter, Dorothea, was baptized at the same time with little
Bernard. She afterwards became the wife of Richard, the eldest son of
the Lepsiuses. Jacob Grimm toasted the two children, and this time in a
very poetical and delightful manner. In the course of the toast he
compared the boy with hail, which descends roughly and impetuously, and
the maiden with snow, which murmurs softly and gently down.
The spring was passed in searching for a building site and in pleasant
social intercourse. On the twenty-fifth of May, 1854, they met Paul
Heyse for the first time at Schott’s, and Frau Elizabeth wrote in her
diary: “It is a long time since I have seen Richard so fascinated with
anyone as he was with this young, animated, candid, handsome, excellent,
enthusiastic, most lovable poet.”
Very painful to Lepsius was the downfall of his old patron and friend
Bunsen, which occurred at this time. He had been offered the position of
Minister of Ecclesiastical Affairs at Berlin, but in the beginning of
’54, while in London, he declared that in case of necessity Prussia
would side with England. This set the King quite beside himself and
General von Gröben was sent to London to reprimand Bunsen. The attempts
at mediation of his son Ernest, whom he had sent to Berlin, were vain,
and, in spite of the Prince of Prussia’s eager intercession for him, the
Camarilla, and especially Gerlach and Manteuffel, had such strong
influence over the King that he forsook his friend Bunsen, and permitted
him to be dismissed.
But the anxieties of house-building were soon to place all others in the
background, for a suitable plot was finally found in Bendler Street,
(which at that time was sparsely built up,) and was bought on favorable
conditions. The space at their disposal was large enough to permit of
laying out an extensive garden, beside the roomy house.
At the laying of the corner stone, on the eighteenth of October, 1854,
Lepsius made an admirable speech, from which we shall give some extracts
later on. This was of course the occasion of a festal celebration, and
friend Abeken composed the following sonnet for it:
“Within the ground all life doth first have birth,
Richly the tree unfolds its leafy pride,
Yet in the earth’s dark night its germ must hide,
And downward still the root strikes into earth.
And that this house may reach its highest worth,
The master now, with wisdom for his guide,
In the firm soil lays the foundations wide,
That he may bind it firmly with the earth.
Yet is there _one_ firm ground where build we must,
On which our house’s peace we gladly found,
That still its sacred hearth with joy be filled;
This is fixed faith in God and happy trust,
With which forever love and hope are bound,
And thus a temple with the house we build.”
Lepsius had intentionally caused the corner stone to be laid where the
living room of the mistress of the house was afterwards to be raised,
and in his dedicatory speech he explained his motives for this in
beautiful words. The house when finished had a fine and stately
appearance, with its Gothic arches over doors and windows, its
battlements on tower and roof, its handsome entrance, its covered piazza
on the ground floor, and open balcony on the upper story, and its
inscriptions in carved stone.
When it was ready for habitation, Abeken, the former divine, added the
following second sonnet to the first:
That here the temple with the house should blend
On the foundation stone we wrote, and lo!
Sank it far underfoot, that even so
The darkling earth its strength to us might lend.
Yet must from Heaven the mighty power descend
That upward bids the earthly germ to grow,
And Life and Love must still from Heaven flow,
The sacred fire on the hearth to tend.
Therefore we lift our hands and hearts to Heaven,
And humbly here its blessing we await,
Praying for peace and safety as is due,
That Love and Light and Spirit may be given
Our handiwork henceforth to consecrate,
That this the home may be a temple true!
On the twelfth of July, 1856, Lepsius with his own hand wrote the
following maxims in a new diary of his wife’s.
God’s peace from Heaven
To this house be given.
Unless God’s grace we gain
Our building is in vain.
Within this little book be you
To these, our house’s mottoes, true.
The second motto was cut in stone, in Gothic letters and surrounded by
arabesques, over the broad projecting window of the wife’s room, on the
side of the building towards the street; the first was over the front
door. The palms over the entrance gate were intended to call to memory
the Palm Sunday on which Lepsius and his wife had been betrothed. The
wish expressed in the first motto was fulfilled, for the house in
Bendler Street was truly a temple of peace, under the visible favor of
God. Until the growing city of Berlin laid claim to the broad extent of
the beautiful garden and Lepsius felt himself forced to sell it, their
house was the home of true love, intimate family life, steadfast
reverence for God--in the man no less than in the wife,--and earnest,
unwearied labor, as well as cheerful song and music, and a happy
hospitality.
The father of Lepsius died before the house was completed, but he was
able to invite his mother to come and live with him “at Berlin, in the
country.” However, the beautiful outlook “towards the canal and
Schöneberg” was soon built up. The house was constructed in the English
Gothic style, which he had learned to like in Great Britain, and which
few understood as well as he (see page 131). To his delight, its
pleasing appearance, with the slightly-pointed arches over windows and
doors, and the balcony, with its Gothic parapet of sandstone, proved so
attractive that, as he wrote to his mother: “our neighbor has also built
in the Gothic style, and, indeed, two houses at once.” “I am to assist
him with money,” he continued, “for the third, on the corner, and the
man on the other corner will also build a Gothic house. That makes a
whole Gothic quarter.”
But how differently things turned out! The stately building which was to
have been a home for remote descendants has vanished from the earth,
and only a few traces remain of the Bendler Street Gothic. During the
first years after they moved into the new house they improved every
opportunity which offered to exhibit the beauty of the chosen style of
architecture. When for example it was necessary, on account of any
festivity, to “illuminate,” they lit up the whole front, and especially
the large balcony, with little lamps which followed the lines of the
arches.
The fine garden gave special pleasure to Lepsius. After he had had tea
at his writing table he always took a walk there, in winter as well as
in summer, and whether the weather was good or bad. He felt a “special
interest in it, and knew it all by heart.” The trees which soon
overshadowed it had been planted on various happy occasions by dear
guests and friends of the household, in memory of the delightful hours
which they had passed under the roof of Lepsius, and as a visible symbol
and token of the friendship which burgeoned and blossomed anew with each
year. Alexander von Humboldt, Bunsen, the Grimms, Ehrenberg, E. Curtius
and many others had planted their trees, and on each was a little tablet
which bore the name of him who had set it in the earth. Foreign friends
too, who could not come to Berlin and attend to the planting themselves,
sent small trees to be set out. For example, the Director of the museum
at Leyden, already mentioned several times, (see pages 123 and 245) sent
a variety of _Betula_ which had been named after him _Betula
Lemansiana_, by a nursery gardener at Warmond. As the trees which he
first sent did not arrive he despatched others, and these throve and
long reminded the Lepsius family of their Dutch friend. The garden was a
living and shady temple of friendship, and what beautiful festivals were
celebrated there!
Plays and spectacular performances were often given in the fine spacious
apartments of this house on the birthday of the head of the family,
which occurred shortly before Christmas. They were distinguished by the
same thoughtful intelligence which had given rise to the tree-planting
and laid the corner stone under the living-room of the mistress of the
house. The ideas were usually furnished by Frau Elizabeth. Thus a fable
was once represented, interspersed with _tableaux vivants_, which the
children and their little friends undertook to produce. The subject was
the standard alphabet (see page 104) of their father, which was
personified as Miss Alphabeta Standarda, and represented in the
different stages of its development. The dialogue was both sprightly and
well written, in the best style of fable, and seasoned with many merry
and satirical allusions. At one time there were _tableaux vivants_ after
antique personages and the pictures of Flaxman, and then again the trees
from the garden made their appearance. Before this, the treasure-house
of Rhampsinitus had been represented according to Platen. Similar
performances, always original, thoughtful, and excellently executed in
detail, delighted the guests, the children who usually had to take part
in them, and especially the host himself. When a ball was given, too,
they never failed to have particularly pretty and original cotillion
figures, for which the poet and faithful friend of the family, Abeken,
composed the verses.
On July the fourteenth, 1857, the third boy was born, and at his baptism
on the second of August, he received the name of Reinhold. He was named
after the brother who had never been forgotten, and who had expired in
Rome, when twenty-nine years old, in the arms of the godfather.
In September of the same year the Lepsiuses had the great pleasure of
welcoming Bunsen for the first time in their own house. He had been
invited by Frederick William IV. to take part in the assembly of the
“Evangelical Alliance” which met at Berlin. The King had indeed dropped
him as a statesman, but the letter of invitation which he sent to
Heidelberg, where the former ambassador then lived, was as cordial and
urgent as if the monarch had preserved his old friendship for him whom
he had “deserted.” Bunsen must come, wrote the King, firstly on account
of the business itself, secondly for the sake of his own (Bunsen’s)
renown, and thirdly to please the King. The latter wrote with great
enthusiasm of the “Alliance.” Finally, he added most cordially that
Bunsen must not refuse to let an old friend be his host and care for his
journey there and back and his entertainment in the palace. On Bunsen’s
arrival the King embraced him before the whole court, but only sent for
him once afterwards to converse with him. The Camarilla hated the man
of independent thought, and the King had already accustomed himself to
submit to it.
But on the other hand, Lepsius’ delight at receiving his revered patron
and fatherly friend in his own home, and showing him his house, was
unbounded, and as great as it was heartfelt. “On Sunday,” (September
thirteenth, ’57), writes Frau Elizabeth, “Bunsen was as lovely and
splendid as ever. At table he proposed our healths, with a little
speech, in which he first expressed his delight at being once more in
Berlin, where he had believed he could never come again, and whither he
had now been summoned in so honorable a manner that he could return with
pleasure. But to find us so agreeably and excellently settled was one of
the brightest spots of his sojourn here. In the most sincere and
heartfelt manner he expressed his happiness in our family fortunes, and
wished that God would still continue to bless us, and that; ‘Thy wife
shall be as a fruitful vine, thy children like olive-plants round about
thy table.’ He reminded us, too, that his friendship with Lepsius had
now lasted for more than twenty years, that he loved him like a son;
indeed the dear man even included me (Frau Elizabeth) in the circle of
his affections; ‘I love you like my own children.’
“How warmly and deeply were we touched by this speech, of which I have
here repeated only an imperfect fragment! If it were possible, I should
be fonder than ever of Bunsen. Where else, in a man of such distinction,
can one find such warmth and cordiality of feeling, such sincere and
faithful friendship?”
Every leisure hour was spent by Bunsen in the Lepsius’ house, which at
this time was the scene of a great celebration. This was arranged in
honor of the beloved and revered guest, and some of the most
distinguished members of the Alliance were invited to be present at it.
It is not necessary to say how pleasant it must have been to the
scholarly statesman to find assembled here Ehrenberg and Gerhard, J.
Grimm, whom he had not previously known, and with whom he conversed at
length, Pertz, Peters, Pinder, Geffken, Schelling, Stüler, Olfers,
Abeken, the former chaplain of his embassy, General Superintendent
Hoffman, Dr. Barth, the divine from Würtemberg, and many other leading
men in science and in the evangelical church. Lepsius was especially
delighted just at that time by once more meeting Lobstein, who had first
invited him in Bunsen’s name to take up the study of Egyptology, and who
had since become French ambassador to Sweden.
The members of the Alliance had assembled from all parts of the world.
They met in Berlin, held sessions, and listened to many orators, but the
great results which had been anticipated from this congress failed to
manifest themselves, or were dissipated in smoke; indeed, shortly before
its close the stamp of absurdity was set upon it by Krummacher of
Westphalia, who was a strictly orthodox pastor and the cousin of the
Berlin minister. At the last meeting but one this zealot openly, and in
a spirit of denunciation, expressed his regret that the famous French
preacher, Merle d’Aubigné, had, on the steps of the railway station,
embraced and kissed a man whose rationalism and Romanism must be a
terror to the assembly. The man thus proscribed was no less a person
than Bunsen. Unfortunately this absurd attack was not disregarded, but
called forth a most unpleasant controversy.
After these days of excitement life went on in its accustomed course for
the Lepsius household. The hours of leisure were agreeably spent in the
favorite diversions of the husband, boccia in the garden, and chess in
the house. New guests were added to the old. Among them were Wichern the
founder of the “reformatory for vagrant children” at Hamburg, whose
efforts filled Frau Elizabeth with enthusiasm, von Putlitz the poet, and
the charming Erdmann from Halle, who seasoned many a meal for them with
his delightful humor. Humboldt, too, came occasionally, and told them
much of the mournful condition of the King. The former was once
conversing on serious scientific subjects, and with the entire
concurrence of the monarch, but when Potsdam was spoken of, although he
was staying there at that time, the unhappy sovereign could not remember
where the place was. At this time, (1852), Lepsius presented his Book of
Kings, which was then completed, to the Prince of Prussia, (our
Emperor.) The latter showed himself full of interest in it, and after
this audience the author said he had been especially struck by the
quiet, simple, benevolent nature of the Prince, in contrast to the
intellectually active, restless character of the King.
Mommsen had been summoned to Berlin in 1857, and enjoyed meeting the
family of Lepsius, but with regard to scientific, and especially
chronological, questions, there was many a dispute between these two
great scholars.
Lepsius worked much in the garden for the sake of his health, and
whatever this plot of ground yielded, in the way of vegetables, fruit,
eggs and milk, (they kept chickens and a cow of their own), was named
Hathor-cabbage, Hathor-apples, etc. Hermann Grimm had given this name to
the special products of his friend’s place, and thus recalled the great
goddess who at Dendera was styled the “dispenser of all the goods of
life,” and to whom, as the feminine principle in nature, pertained all
the gifts which furnish sustenance and pleasure to man.
In 1858 the brothers Schlagintweit also returned from their successful
journey through Asia. They came to Berlin, and wished to sell their
collections there, but many things were unfavorable to this project,
and, altogether, they met with no good fortune in the Prussian capital.
Frau Lepsius relates that they had succeeded in bringing a white ass
from the Himalayas to Berlin, in good health and lively. When he arrived
his transport had already cost two thousand thalers. It was necessary to
take him from the railway station to the zoological garden; but in going
through Potsdam Street he became refractory, and would not follow his
leader any farther. They put a rope around his neck, to pull him
forwards by force, and the consequence was that the white ass from the
Himalayas choked, and met with an unforeseen death at Berlin in Potsdam
Street.
During the latter part of the summer of 1858 the family again stayed at
Ilsenburg in the Hartz, and in December of the same year Frau Elizabeth
presented her husband with the fourth and last boy. He received the name
of Richard Ernest John, and amongst the godfathers was the faithful
college comrade of the head of the family, A. Kreiss,[99] at that time a
minister at Strasburg, as well as E. Curtius, “our splendid, ideal
friend.” After the christening Frau Elizabeth wrote: “May his name John
ever remind me that it is my great and sacred task to rear him to be a
true John; one who loves his Lord and follows in his footsteps.” This
John has now became a divine, after having produced several promising
first works as a philosopher and student of æsthetics.
In April, 1859, Lepsius traveled to Munich, for the centennial
anniversary of the Academy, and there made the acquaintance of the
excellent Thiersch, J. v. Liebig, Riehl, E. Geibel and other scholars
and artists. He spent much time with his old friend, the celebrated
architect, v. Klenze, and he also visited Kaulbach in his studio. In the
summer of 1859 Lepsius refreshed himself by an excursion to Rügen with
his friend Wiese, and late in the autumn he took a trip with his wife
and the oldest little girl to Saxon Switzerland and Dresden, where they
also made the acquaintance of Schnorr von Karolsfeld. “I looked up,”
wrote Frau Elizabeth, “with a sort of devotion, to the old and thin but
fine and intellectually vivid face of this man, whose compositions
express such deep and fervent Christian feeling.” We also learn here
that the famous little castle of Souchay at Loschwitz on the Elbe is an
enlarged copy of the Lepsius house, which had especially pleased the
owner of the castle and his architect Arnold, in Berlin, whither they
had gone to investigate the different styles of house-building.
Lepsius and his wife were deeply distressed by the death of Alexander v.
Humboldt, on May sixth, 1859, but in the following months they
encountered other losses by death which were still harder to bear. Soon
after their return home Jonas, the faithful, large-hearted pastor of the
household, died, and his departure filled the family with grief. Among
those who knew him, and his truly admirable, profound and infinitely
lovable character, his memory must long be cherished for the candor and
courage with which, by words and actions, he defended the freedom of
religious conviction during the darkest days of church life in Prussia.
But yet another and more painful loss was ordained for the family, for
on the twenty-eighth of November, 1860, died Bunsen, the man to whom
Lepsius was most deeply indebted, and to whom he had clung with the love
of a son. Also on the third of January, 1861, Frederick William IV.
died, and the reverential words respecting him with which the wife
filled many pages of her diary, are to be considered as an echo of the
feelings with which the husband regarded this king, whose weaknesses he
could not overlook but whose great qualities he was glad to exalt in
order to give them grateful praise.
Among the old friends of the family were the Pinders and Partheys,
Erbkam, the Grimms, Trendelenburgs, Brandis, Olshausens, v. Sybel,
Beselers, Geffken, Duncker, v. Tiele, who was afterwards Assistant
Secretary of State, George v. Bunsen, the Wilmowskis, Count Usedom, and
the witty Strauss, who had traveled through Palestine, Wichern, Meyer
von Rinteln, the amiable Mrs. Curtis, with whom we ourselves were well
acquainted, the publisher Hertz, Count Schlieffen, Weidenbach, the
Homeyers, the Balans and Salpius, the Wieses, the two married couples of
Peters and Drakes, the traveler Robinson, Weiss, and so on. To these was
added Droysen, who had received an appointment at Berlin in 1859. But
the highest place among them all was held by “Uncle Abeken.” There is
some ludicrous association with this able man, on account of the
passages regarding him which appear in Busch’s interesting book on
“Count Bismarck and His People.” But Frau Elizabeth’s diary shows us
that he had a deep and faithful nature, that his quick intelligence
apprehended and appreciated the poetical aspect of every incident in
life, that he was a good adviser and ready in that capacity to render
every service, and also an indefatigable worker. Where duty demanded it
he knew how to keep silence as few men do, though he was of a
communicative disposition, and had made himself so at home in every
department of science that Lepsius counted him one of the most learned
men of his time. If he was questioned about political affairs, such as
the restoration of the constitution of 1831 in Hesse, the preparation of
which had devolved upon him, his only answer was: “I have not read the
papers to-day.” He had been no less faithful to the Bunsens than to the
Lepsiuses, and his little failings will be willingly overlooked by any
one who knows with what steadfast courage he stayed by the ambassador’s
wife at Rome during the worst cholera season, and what sacrifices he was
ready to make for his friends in case of need. One whom Prince Bismarck
so trusted could be no insignificant man. That in him which provoked a
smile was chiefly his low stature, his manner, which was sometimes
immoderately vivacious, and that sentimentality which even to Frau
Bunsen was not always agreeable. Nevertheless this distinguished lady
esteemed him very highly, though she occasionally begged him to write
her less about his feelings and more about facts. But at least this
sentimentality had nothing artificial about it. It sprang from an ardent
spirit, which was perhaps only too tender and impressible.--As long as
he taught at Göttingen, the favorite guest of the Lepsiuses was E.
Curtius, and his recall to Berlin afforded the greatest happiness to
that household. Max Müller too, when he came from Oxford, was received
with open arms, and the attachment which Lepsius felt to him, may be
discerned from the journal of his wife, as well as from his letters to
Bunsen. Amongst their younger friends George v. Bunsen had best known
how to win the hearts of the family.
Frau Elizabeth superintended the details of the children’s education
with the greatest care and affection, and in so doing often fatigued
herself to the point of exhaustion. The father directed the plan
according to which he desired the training of the boys to be conducted,
but it was only in questions of moment that he interposed and gave his
decision. Two ladies who were sisters of Hofmeyer the family physician,
and who had at one time conducted the principal school for young ladies
in Berlin, told Frau Lepsius at Easter, 1862, of a twelve year old
orphan, of English descent and good family, who was alone in the world
and entirely unprovided for. Frau Lepsius immediately declared her
willingness to adopt her, and receive her as a seventh child among her
own six. Her husband quickly consented, and they never regretted this
kind act, for, to their delight, Ellen grew up to be a lovely young
girl. She was always treated in every respect like one of the daughters
of the house, and, like them, she long since married.
After the accession of King William, Lepsius continued to observe the
course of politics attentively, and never neglected any of the duties of
a citizen. In 1862 he was chosen as an elector of the first electoral
class for his district, and by the conservatives, although he in no wise
approved of their efforts. His views coincided with those of the party
which at that time was called “Old Liberal.” His friend, Meyer von
Rinteln, stood well at court, and was full of court anecdotes. He once
told how the Elector of Hesse had got in a passion, and hurt himself so
seriously by giving his valet a thrashing, that he had been obliged to
keep his bed. Thereupon Herman Grimm improvised the following riddle.
“Had my whole been truly my second, he certainly would not have been
Obliged to seek my first in bed, as we have recently seen.”[100]
Queen Augusta, Meyer reported, had correctly guessed “Kurfürst.”
Meyer was also a very talented poet, and he once read his tragedy of
“German Youth” at Lepsius’ home, in the presence of General v. Willisen,
who had had to oversee the Prussian execution at Hesse. The tendency of
the play was to show that only under the Prussian imperial rule could
Germany obtain tranquility, peace and new power. Frau Lepsius had long
before confided the same thought to her diary, and Willisen agreed with
it warmly.
The wife was as fond of traveling as the husband, but during the first
half of the summer he was kept at home by his duties as professor, and
she by her interest in their own beautiful garden, and in the education
of the children. By midsummer Berlin became unendurable to them both,
and they were accustomed to leave home usually in July with the
children, who then had their holidays. In the autumn of 1863 they took a
longer journey, to Cologne and the Swiss Rhine, with their elder
daughter Anna and Uncle Abeken. Shortly before the master of the house
commenced his lectures they returned to Berlin, where their delightful
social life began anew. Frau Elizabeth suffered from many physical
ailments, especially “_tic douloureux_,” and had also assumed an almost
oppressive number of domestic, pedagogic, social and benevolent duties.
When she felt greatly in need of refreshment she retreated for a few
days to Sacrow, a pretty and charmingly situated little village on the
Havel near Potsdam, and on returning home she would resume with renewed
strength the labors which awaited her.
After the death of Jonas, the family pastor was first Snethlage, who was
then growing old, and afterwards the vigorous and manly Court Chaplain
Kögel. In spite of his tendency to greater strictness, this latter
entirely filled the place to Frau Lepsius of the deceased friend whom
she so deeply lamented. After one of his sermons (1865) she wrote in the
diary: “To be able to preach like Kögel! I should think that the highest
earthly happiness. What a blessing for us!”
On the twenty-eighth of February, 1866, Lepsius started on his second
journey to Egypt, the details of which are given on page 201. He was
alone except for the faithful draughtsman Weidenbach. While he was on
the way, Uncle Abeken became engaged to, and subsequently married,
Fraulein Helene von Olfers, a daughter of the Director of the museum.
The fear lest the old friend of the house should change proved
unfounded, for as a married man he still preserved his old friendship
for the Lepsiuses.
The master of the house returned home sooner than he had been expected.
He had given up the journey to upper Egypt for several reasons, chief
among which was the great inundation of the Nile. He was met at Berlin
by the clang of arms. A civil war appeared inevitable, and Bismarck was
as little of a favorite in Bendler street as in other constitutional
circles of the country, though the sagacity of Lepsius and the
information derived from Abeken, who always regarded his chief with
fervent admiration, had caused the Lepsiuses to repose great confidence
in him. At court, too, he had many more bitter opponents and enemies
than friends, and when, shortly before the war, Bismarck injured his
foot, a gentleman who held a situation near the Queen uttered the
pointed _bon-mots_, “His foot hurts him because he has gone too far,”
and “The cloven hoof is showing.”
But never did the feeling of a nation towards a great man undergo such a
sudden, universal and complete revolution as that towards Bismarck
during the short months of the war of 1866. At that time Frau Lepsius,
with the ardent enthusiasm peculiar to herself and with the assistance
of her daughters, made herself most useful in the Hospital Association
and still more in the Elizabeth Hospital. The diary records the
preliminaries of peace with anxious interest, and contains the
following anecdote, perhaps from the mouth of Abeken: “At the
negotiations for peace Benedetti began to speak cautiously of slight
enlargements of the French boundaries, as Prussia was now so well
rounded out. Then Bismarck cried: ‘Give me that in writing! To-morrow I
must present a demand for a credit of sixty millions for war expenses to
the Chamber; with this paper in my hand I can ask for double the sum.’”
Before the war many an angry word had been uttered against Bismarck in
Bendler Street, but when a party of literati had assembled there on the
twenty-second of July, 1866, they soon began to talk of politics, and
each one gave expression to the admiration with which Bismarck’s
greatness inspired him. Even Frau Lepsius praised the man whom she had
previously judged none too mildly. (See page 245.) They all agreed that
it was now possible for the first time to understand this great
statesman’s aims and mode of action, and that as an envoy to the Diet he
must undoubtedly have already grasped the idea which had now been
carried into execution in such a wonderful manner. But Wichern thought
he should have allowed his great intentions to be perceived a little
more plainly, so that he might have been better understood and not so
much hated. Lepsius then rose, and responded to this opinion of the
clever master of the “reformatory,” that it was the great characteristic
of Bismarck as a statesman that he knew how to keep silence for years,
and to pursue his aims quietly. A few days before this the great
Chancelor, on the occasion of the celebration of victory at Kroll, had
proposed his beautiful toast to “The Children of Berlin,” who were a
little rash in word, but had head and heart in the right place.
The wave of enthusiasm rolled high at that time. Every Prussian heart
beat full and quick for its King. Lepsius had always greatly extolled
his direct and honest nature, and his clear intelligence, which could
never be confused. He was delighted therefore at the Monarch’s saying to
him, “I myself proposed you,” when he received the red order of the
eagle of the second class in 1867, on the annual celebration of the
founding of that order.
The Court Chaplain Snethlage, who had been a faithful friend of the
family, resigned his office in July, 1867, and the diary contains the
following touching anecdote: “On a certain day one of the men of his
parish comes to Snethlage, assures him of his fidelity and reverence,
and then says to him, ‘But now I have a request to make of you: Preach
no more; it will not do any longer!’ Thereupon the Court Chaplain held
his peace for a short time, and then said, ‘You are right, it will no
longer do, and I will give up preaching.’”
In September of the same year Lepsius went to Paris and London with his
daughters, and in the autumn of 1869 he went to Egypt for the last time,
and chiefly on account of the celebration of the opening of the Suez
Canal.
When the war between Germany and France broke out, in 1870, the oldest
son, Richard, who was just approaching his examination previous to
matriculation, begged his parents to be allowed to take the field, and
both, with ardent patriotism, accorded him permission. But he was
rejected, as not yet sufficiently strong, and therefore, after passing
the examination, he visited the arena of war but once, under the command
of the army chaplain at whose disposal he had placed himself. His mother
meanwhile with restless zeal and the practical ability characteristic of
her, was working for the wounded. To put herself in a prominent position
was repugnant to her, her only object was to be of real service to the
hospital, and this she accomplished with the aid of her daughters and
others upon whom she was able to call. Many people brought their
donations to her and a large part of the linen and clothing for the
Berlin hospital, especially that for the chief depot, was got together
by her, and sewed and made ready under her supervision. In doing this
she was able to furnish remunerative work for so many poor women that
she wrote in the diary: “That is the only good thing about a war, that
one can employ so many needy women.” She forgot that it is war which
plunges so many women into poverty.
Lepsius was always ready to give and to advise, and delighted in all
that his wife and daughters accomplished. The news from the seat of war
was awaited with feverish excitement, and the successes of the
victorious troops were celebrated with enthusiasm. The inmates of the
Lepsius house received news at first hand from their many friends in
high places. Amongst these was now Dr. Stephan, the head of the
post-office department. The husband and wife also had a great liking for
the minister Frommel; a divine whose sermons Lepsius, who was no regular
churchgoer, liked because he “did not preach dogmatically but from and
of real life.” These are Lepsius’ own words, and he esteemed Frommel not
only as a divine, but as a clever, well-informed and agreeable
companion.
During the following years life flowed on more quietly. One after the
other the boys left school, and made substantial progress in their
professions. The girls became mistresses of families and mothers, the
garden ceased to be the scene of the merry games of childhood, the big
house, deserted by many of its younger inhabitants, became too large for
those who remained; but the old social life did not languish, and the
father, with undiminished energy, was still busied in his work rooms. If
a large number of friends was assembled in the Lepsius salons among them
was usually the Minister of the American Republic. This was at first the
grey haired historian Bancroft, afterwards the noble and accomplished
poet, Bayard Taylor, who successfully translated Faust into English, and
lastly Andrew White, the erudite and liberal-minded promoter of science
in the new world.
When Lepsius did not prefer to play chess,--often four-handed chess, or,
still better, with three players and a dummy,--he devoted many evenings,
as of old, to the “Herrenkränzchen,” or social club of learned friends,
in which he bore his part with pleasure, both giving and receiving.
Lepsius belonged to the old or little “Griechheit” during the first
years of his marriage and before he built his own house. Its members
were: Lepsius, E. Curtius, Gerhard, Abeken, Brandis, Wiese, and other
intimate friends. They read Greek classics, and so kept up their
familiarity with them and with the world of ancient Hellas, but this was
not the sole object of the “Griechheit,” which was rather intended to
enable friends of similar tastes and education to pass pleasant and
inspiring evenings together, where they might be happy, unconstrained,
and free from every sort of pedantry. After the reading and the
discussion which followed it, two chosen friends, the diplomat v.
Schlözer and the zoologist Peters, were admitted as so-called
“commensals,” and they all went to supper. The wife of the member at
whose house the society met presided at table, and often the friends
remained till a late hour over the merry meal, amidst the clinking of
glasses, and pleasant conversation.
With Abeken’s late marriage in 1866, the little “Griechheit,” so dear to
all its members, came to an end, though its resurrection was celebrated
some years afterwards. But in its new form the more critical and sharper
spirit of the present learned society of Berlin prevailed, instead of
the inoffensive cheerful tone, and the ideal humanistic thought of its
predecessor. Members of the various Faculties, Mommsen, the philosopher
Zeller, the mathematician Kronecker, H. Grimm, Wattenbach, the lawyer
Bruns, the archæologist Schöne, v. Sybel, and Waitz took part in it, and
among them, as representatives of the older “Griechheit” were E. Curtius
and Lepsius. The English ambassador, Lord Russel, the Greek ambassador,
Rangabé, and George v. Bunsen were also members.
The Wednesday or Literary Club had been founded by Bethmann-Hollweg and
Dorner, who was also a friend of the Lepsiuses. The Berlin literati
lived at wide distances apart, and this club was begun with the
intention of enabling them to meet, and thus giving an opportunity to
those who were conducting researches in the various domains of science
to enrich each other intellectually, through conversation, and mutual
communication of knowledge.
Each member was bound in turn to deliver a discourse upon some subject
within his special department of science. Another member had to provide
the entertainment, and thus the society met first at one house and then
at another. Of the old members many are now dead; those who survive will
recollect with satisfaction the delightful evenings in which Lepsius
participated with such pleasure.
To this society belonged Bethmann-Hollweg (the president), Dorner, Braun
the botanist, E. Curtius, Duncker the historian, Beseler and Bruns the
lawyers, Müllenhof the student of German law, language and history,
Twesten the grey-haired and vigorous theologian, Friedrichs the
archæologist, and also, for several years, Wichern, and Bancroft the
historian and American ambassador. Of the younger members we may name
the astronomer Förster and the geologist and geographer v. Richthofen,
who had returned from China, bringing with him important scientific
results. After Hermann had made himself at home as president of the
Supreme Church Council in Berlin, Dorner immediately inducted him into
the “Wednesday Club.” The architect Adler also found admittance to this
select circle, which was no less attractive to Lepsius than the
“Griechheit,” which met on Friday.
He scarcely went once a year to the Monday Club, although he was a
member of this very old society, to which Nicolai had once belonged, It
was composed of officials of high rank, and a few scholars. When there
was any matter regarding which Lepsius wished to have a personal
interview with one of the former, he was glad to go thither to find him
and engage his attention.
The Archæological and Geographical Societies he visited occasionally
from scientific interest.
If we did not have Lepsius’ own assurance that nothing so refreshed him
as the exhilarating intercourse with superior men, it would be hard to
understand how, during the latter lustrums of his laborious life, he
could conduct such numerous and profound researches to their conclusion,
when we consider that he was quite frequently bidden to the evening
tea-drinkings in the imperial palace, that even when chief librarian he
was never to be counted among the negligent members of the Griechheit
or of the Wednesday Club, and that in addition to this he had official
and social duties. But his mind, cheered and invigorated, soon retrieved
by the active labors of the morning those evening hours which had been
spent at the “Clubs.”
One after another the children had all flown from the parental nest. A
portion of the beautiful garden had to be sold, when Hildebrand Street
was made to connect Thiergarten Street with the grand canal. The latter
we used to know as a modest sheep pond, upon which the green duck-weed
floated like mould, and across whose sandy shores a few isolated trees
cast their shadow. Lepsius yielded to the demands of the growing city of
Berlin, and the vigorous old man, ever ready for new enterprises,
decided to sell the dear old house. In consequence of the great rise in
its value it had become too expensive a dwelling for its few inmates,
especially as Lepsius had just at that time encountered heavy pecuniary
losses. But neither he nor his wife wished to leave the dear old home,
and therefore they caused it to be moved, after they had found a
suitable lot of ground in Kleist Street on the borders of
Charlottenburg, in the extreme western part of Berlin. There it was once
more reared, and anyone who once knew the old house, and now seeks and
finds the new, will feel, as all of us of that generation must, that he
is under the power of a magic spell; for there before him stands the old
Lepsius homestead, just as it was in Bendler Street. The interior too
has undergone no change, and it is not only that the new house
resembles the old, but, in a certain sense, it is the same, for Lepsius
did not sell the materials of which his first dwelling-place had been
constructed, and after the new owner had torn down the scholar’s home in
Bendler Street, in order to erect a large apartment house on the site,
Lepsius had it carried to Kleist Street, stone by stone, door by door,
and window by window, and thus actually succeeded in living in the old
house on the new site. Unluckily, the good fortune which had so long
remained faithful to him did not follow him to the new home. He there
saw beloved members of his family fall a prey to severe illness, and
when he had enjoyed the new dwelling for a short time he was himself
attacked by the malignant disease which deprived us of our revered
Master, and his children of their dear father.
But, on the other hand, the old house had fully and completely fulfilled
the destiny to which its builder had consecrated it in a beautiful
speech at the laying of the corner-stone, August fifth, 1854. He then
said, speaking of his children and his wife: “This house is not meant
chiefly for us, but for our children. But for them we should never have
thought of building a house. To them it will be the home of their
parents, where their youth will develop, therefore it shall give them as
large a portion of the fresh air of heaven and of nature’s green, as it
is possible to obtain in a large city. They will people every corner
with their childish phantasies, and throughout life their recollections
will cling to every tree and shrub.”
Thus it happened; and the wife too, in the old house, which then was
new, took the very place which he awarded her in the same speech; “But
besides the children,” he had said, “it is to the woman, to the mistress
of the house, that the house belongs. There indeed the man may often
command or rebuke, but there the woman rules. The husband will live
there, but the wife will work there, will govern and provide. Her heart,
her eye and her mouth are the true homes of domestic peace, that
beautiful jewel of a happy home. As was said of old, she is the ‘house
honor;’[101] that is, upon her rests the honor of the house, and to her
is due the honor of the house. The proverb says ‘Every wise woman
buildeth her house.’ That has been a true saying in this case, for many
times has the whole plan passed through the sieve of her wisdom, and
each time it has come out finer. Therefore it is just that we should lay
the foundation stone exactly here, under the future room of the
housewife, as the corner-stone of the house’s honor and the house’s
peace.”
The children and friends were attracted to the new home in Kleist Street
as they had been to the old, and it gave Lepsius special gratification
to build a studio, as an annex to the family dwelling, for his son
Reinhold, who had meanwhile developed into a very promising portrait
painter. In the evening of his days Lepsius saw his two eldest sons lead
home as brides the daughters of two of his friends.
Grandchild after grandchild grew up beside the pair who were now waxing
old. The wife had many things to attend to and to watch over, now here
and now there; during the last lustrum, too, she had to care for her
husband, whose vigorous body had been spared by serious illness until
the slight apoplectic attack, already mentioned, impaired the use of his
hand. In November, 1883, when we last visited our revered teacher and
dear friend, we found him and his wife animated and cheerful in spite of
the many terrible blows of destiny which they had encountered. His
letters, which, after the apoplectic attack, had been written with a
trembling hand, had long since exhibited almost the same firm strokes of
the pen as in earlier days, and the writings which date from his latter
years show that his mind had retained its old elasticity and depth. But
soon after our farewell visit a disorder of the stomach began to
undermine his vigorous health, and at the same time his mind was greatly
disturbed by the severe illness of his beloved wife.
At Easter, 1884, he felt a premonition of his approaching end and faced
it with that serenity of mind which had always distinguished him. At
that time, when, without being really ill, he began to feel weak, he
often spoke of his impending death. At Whitsuntide he was forced to take
to his bed, and he now steadfastly regarded his approaching departure,
and quietly prepared for it. He caused his children to be summoned, and
clearly and thoughtfully talked over with them everything in his and
their material affairs which still required to be set in order. He made
a new will, as it had become necessary to change that already in
existence on account of the illness of the faithful companion of his
life, which was such as to preclude any hope of recovery. After that he
was a little better again. The physicians believed that the ulcer of the
stomach might heal, on account of the unusual vigor and soundness of the
rest of the system: but he did not share their hopes, although he
allowed his children to depart.
But soon afterwards the physicians became convinced that the ulcer had
developed into an incurable cancer of the stomach. Nevertheless he would
not cease work, and his last efforts were devoted to his science.
A polemic article against a Heidelberg colleague had already been sent
to press, and had been put in type, in order that it might appear in the
next number of the Journal of Egyptian Language and Archaeology. But
before this occurred he felt the precursors of death, and recalled the
controversial paper and had the type distributed, because he would not
close his scientific career “with a discord.”
Then, while in bed, he himself corrected the last pages of his “Linear
Measures of the Ancients,” and with the same careful, indeed painful,
accuracy which had distinguished his work in the days of health. He also
directed to what persons this book should be sent. Like a true German
scholar, Lepsius died in the midst of his labors. During the last three
days he for the first time occasionally lost his clearness of thought,
in consequence of bodily exhaustion, as for the five previous weeks he
had been able to take very little nourishment. His end was painless, and
his failing eyes looked round upon his children, to whom it was granted
to stand beside his deathbed. At the end he tried to speak to his eldest
son, but the brothers and sisters could only distinguish the name
“Richard.”
Lepsius drew his last breath on the tenth of July, at nine o’clock in
the morning. With entire interest and consciousness he, together with
all his children, had eight days before received the holy sacrament from
the faithful pastor of the family, the chief Court Chaplain, Kögel. The
words spoken beside the coffin of the deceased by that excellent divine
were a model of what a funeral discourse should be, and proved that it
had been given to Kögel to recognize fully those great qualities of mind
and heart which had ennobled the departed.
RICHARD LEPSIUS AS A MAN.
The reader of this biography, who has followed with us the development
and the subsequent life of Richard Lepsius, will think that he has
learned in him to know a character whose estimable and tranquil nature
needs no closer inspection. He will consider it a simple one, and
therefore of little interest. For although he has followed the life of
our hero step by step from his school days to the climax of fame, from
childhood to an advanced old age, yet he has at no time observed in it
any noticeable alteration. The reader has seen no great blows of destiny
interrupt the earthly existence of our friend, until a short time before
his death. Where obstacles have appeared in his path they have been seen
to sink of themselves, as if to be the more readily surmounted. For this
man Fortune seemed to have changed her nature, fickleness to have been
transformed to fidelity, and treachery to truth. But a perfectly happy
life is like summer at the North Pole where there is no night; always
bright, and without timidity or terror. Yet, though strange, it is
monotonous, and therefore the longer the day endures the more destitute
is it of charm.
The great natural talents, and the fullness of years granted to this
man, were used by him wisely and prudently. He left school and
university with the highest testimonials, and always fulfilled his duty
with the same active zeal and conscientious earnestness, whether as a
young scholar in Paris, Rome and London, as the prudent chief of a great
expedition which was crowned with rare success, as the famous master and
leader of a progressive science, as a teacher at the university, as the
director of a museum, or as chief librarian. Every honor which it was
possible for him to attain fell to his lot, and he conducted great
undertakings to their conclusion with circumspection, energy and
discernment. From his youth up his superior character, as well as his
personal appearance and bearing, secured him esteem and consideration,
and where it was necessary for him to lead he commanded wisely, justly,
vigorously and discreetly.
When he was six and thirty years old he found an admirable consort, who
loved him with all the warmth of an ardent young heart, and never ceased
to recognize his superiority with happy pride and to honor his great
qualities. In his own home his wife ruled freely, and yet he was ever
the absolute master. Four fine sons promised to maintain the honor of
his famous name, and his beloved daughters endowed him with charming
grandchildren. When he closed his eyes he might say that his work, and
with it his fame, would endure as long as the science to which he had
rendered such great services. He presented his complete works to his
native town, Naumburg, that all which he had accomplished might be
preserved at his birthplace in the BIBLIOTHECA LEPSIANA.
It is true that the story of this life shows few shadows amid many
lights, and he whom it presents to us underwent no marked change during
his years of maturity. Nevertheless, he had not, from childhood up, been
this unimpassioned and prudent master of himself, who knew how to
control every quick impulse, that he might follow or abandon it as his
searching mind decided on its worth or worthlessness. No! for him, too,
there must have been a time when an honest man could not have affirmed
as he did to his wife in his sixtieth year, that he never had anything
to repent, because he always did that which he thought right.
He was considered by many to be essentially a cold man of intellect, in
whom feeling was overshadowed by the fully developed and carefully
polished mind. This opinion sprang from his dispassionate prudence, the
well-bred reserve by which he knew how to hide the weaker parts of his
nature, the measured dignity with which he met strangers, and the quiet
and thoughtful composure which came from his habit of always holding a
dominating position and directing his own affairs as well as those of
others. To these were added the imposing dignity of his figure, the
clear symmetrical outlines of his fine features, the natural grace of
his movements, the finished tones of his speech, and especially the
earnest and utterly intolerant severity with which he opposed all
falsehood and injustice wherever he encountered them. It was impossible
to forget, too, with what energy, wherever he held command, he sought to
reduce all that was disorderly to order, or with what independence he,
when an attempt was made to depreciate his well won right to the
directorship of the Museum,[102] unhesitatingly declared that he would
resign his professorship and leave Berlin if his well-founded claims
were not accorded to him.
Yet in spite of all this those who would deny him warmth of soul are
wrong, indeed we can maintain this confidently, although even to his
wife the qualities of her husband’s intellect were always more apparent
than those of his heart.
Let us hear the judgment which she pronounced on him; not during the
first ten years of marriage, when, overflowing with love, she found in
him something new to admire every day, but after she had shared the
pleasures and pains of life with him for nearly a quarter of a century,
and had come to feel with bitterness that she would never succeed in
leading him to the same conception of a strictly Christian and contrite
life which she had herself arrived at many years before.
She had sought once more, on Christmas eve, 1869, to win him over to the
charms of that pious faith in miracles which filled her own soul, and to
lead him to that fountain “whence alone flowed strength and happiness
for her.” He answered her that she should not desire impossibilities,
and should hold to that which was good in him, as he gladly contented
himself with the many things that were excellent in her. Thereupon she
wrote, “Truth and uprightness are family virtues of the Lepsius race.
They have usually serene and well disposed natures, noble minds, which
despise everything that is trivial, and a strong sense of honor. Richard
adds to these a disposition to mediate and reconcile which makes him
greatly beloved. Intelligence and clear sobriety of thought prevail
among all the brothers and sisters. Richard has attained self-control
and moderation amongst the manifold relations of life, and to this his
prudence and his knowledge have added. Vain he is not; in short an
_homme comme il faut_. At every moment he does what he thinks right, and
therefore never has anything to repent of, (he once told me so
himself.)” She then calls his character a well-regulated and symmetrical
one, with a prevailing intellectual tendency, and, (we repeat), she
exclaims after a married life of four and twenty years, and speaking
with irritation, “If there were even any positive faults that I had to
bear in Richard--but there are no faults, he has none, it is only
community of faith which I miss.”
In this analysis of his character there are certainly many words of warm
appreciation, and indeed his uprightness was such that every judgment,
every expression of opinion which we hear him utter either publicly or
in writing to his acquaintances, corresponds exactly to what is
contained in confidential letters to his family, and the memoranda
intended for himself alone. But his own wife sees in him only the
well-meaning, faultless and stainless man of intellect, and forgets that
for him, too, there must have been a time when he had to strive against
those impulses and emotions to which few men are strangers. Regarding
this conflict he had written to her in former years a beautiful and
perfectly unreserved letter.
In this document, which gives us a key to the understanding of both his
intrinsic and his external qualities, he writes: “I recognize an
impulsive disposition as an old fault in myself, and I think I have
observed it also in you. Impulsiveness is often beautiful and charming,
and often resembles, in a small way, that which, on a large scale, is
among the most splendid products of human inspiration and noble
self-sacrifice. But it does not go deep, is not enduring in action,
dissipates itself for inferior aims, impedes the quiet and blessed
development of those tender and precious germs of grace, resignation,
cheerful peace, and ready receptivity for whatever is good in all things
and men, which slumber in every well-disposed nature. An impulsive
temperament shows itself in every quick emotion which outruns kindness,
in hasty judgment which so easily becomes prejudice, in a variable
temper, upon which the blood should have no influence, in a tendency to
complaint, against oneself as well as against others, and in love of
criticism of oneself and others. On this account the diaries which I
have sometimes kept have only helped me on the wrong way. The best
remedy for an impulsive nature, and one which never fails in the long
run, is a determination strengthened by religious conviction and faith
to acknowledge to ourselves every disagreeable, disturbing, passionate
impulse as wrong and unworthy of ourselves, and simply to put it aside,
without regret and without considering ourselves martyrs. Besides this,
there is great benefit in a regard for external forms, and refined,
gentle manners. These require for their outer clothing freedom from
passion, delicate and careful consideration, and an upright endeavor to
reach what is really unattainable, and please _all_ at once, except the
wicked. It is an enviable thing to please whether among courtiers or in
a students’ tavern, and yet to be neither a courtier nor rude. As you
see, I say all these and a great many more things like them to myself,
but do not follow them much in practice.”
This beautiful monition from a rigorously truthful man contains the
confession that impulsiveness was an old fault of his own. But it
includes at the same time a strong condemnation thereof, and a summons
to battle against it. The remedy which he here declared to be
efficacious he had tried on himself, and who knows with what grievous
struggles he arrived at that dominion over the impulses of a strong
nature, that restraint of external forms, and the practice of those
refined and well-bred manners, which already distinguished him when he
came to Rome, and which awakened the regard of Frau v. Bunsen (See page
98). It was certainly his honest and firm will and his manly strength,
which led him to victory, but not these alone, for through his
admonition we can hear the echo of Luther’s “Nothing is done by our own
might, ... may the Right Man aid us in the fight.” His firm trust in
God, his simple but genuine Christianity, free from every
misinterpretation, self-torment and extravagance, supported him in that
hard conflict.
In the beginning of his twentieth year he had already set before himself
his ideal of life, and this, supported by the energy of his harmoniously
constituted nature, he pursued to the end, first with struggle and
conflict, and finally without any extraordinary effort, and as if of his
own free will.
In Paris, on the occasion of the unveiling of the Vendôme column (Page
61) he wrote: “What can make a deeper impression than the strength of
mind which shows itself in a composed bearing and an expression of
control, in contrast with the unbridled passions of similar human
minds.” To win this “composed bearing,” to acquire perfect command over
unbridled impulses, was the aim of all his labor with himself. No, the
character of a Lepsius did not come into the world as a thing completed,
did not spring like Pallas Athene from the head of Zeus: it was won by
hard, prolonged and repeated struggles.
In this campaign against an adversary who, however often he may be
slain, continually wakens to new life, he accustomed himself to consider
impulsiveness as an enemy, as a peace-breaker, as a disease of sound
human nature. This latter, to his eyes, could only be truly great when
ruled by calm self-control. Here we find an explanation of the words
which he wrote to Bunsen when twenty-nine years old, and which must
appear paradoxical and startling to the uninitiated. During his sojourn
in England in 1839 his heart had been won by a lovely maiden, but his
material circumstances would not permit him to woo her. All this he
confessed to his sympathetic patron in reply to his enquiries, and
added, “I hold every passion to be a defect in love, and why shall I, at
the very outset, declare myself too weak to preserve the purity of true
love, and keep it from cooling into passion?”
To all asceticism the healthy nature of this man, with his keen
enjoyment of life, was a stranger, but for him the words “impulse” and
“impulsiveness” had come to embody everything which transgresses the
limits of an orderly and law-abiding life, everything which compels the
rider, who should seek to govern his steed and guide it according to his
will, to follow the animal instead wherever it may bear him. He at least
knew how to compel the steed to submission. In England he seems to have
shed warm heart’s blood in his effort to obtain the mastery over
himself. There, where he found friendship, love, and the fullest
inspiration, we often see him dissatisfied with himself, and hear him
complain of “faint-heartedness and every sort of bondage.” (See page
100). He chiefly means here by “bondage” his faulty control over the
powerful impulses of his nature, which he endeavors to subdue. Here he
confesses to Bunsen (See page 127), that he daily feels he has not yet
passed beyond the period of education.
His vivacious wife was astonished, when he was a mature man, to behold
him rule over himself with entire and sovereign power, and guide the
ship of his and her life. She was often forced to give expression to
what she felt at this sight. “Richard,” she says, “always the same, I
always depressed or excited.” On one occasion she compares herself with
her husband in a different way, and says: “It is very true that it is
better and makes one’s path easier through life, to be so passionless.
One does not hope for too much, one is not so timid, one is not so much
troubled, one does not have to struggle so much. But that is the way I
am made, and at the bottom, I would not even care to be so self-poised;
if one has a harder struggle, one has also more ardor and heartfelt
delight.”
But the nature of this man cannot be called so perfectly self-poised,
for he was as much beloved as a companion as he was esteemed as a
scholar. He never showed in his manner the least trace of pedantry, and,
as she herself had previously acknowledged, (See page 247) he gave
himself up entirely and thoroughly to everything in which he engaged,
whether it was social pleasures or the most serious affairs.
The admirable method of life which he recommends as a means of subduing
unruly impulses, distinguished him to the end. It was his fortune to be
equally a welcome guest whether at the imperial court or amidst the gay
ringing of glasses in the friendly circle, and this was because he was
able to take part in the sharpest exchange of opinions, and to
experience the heartiest pleasure, without exceeding the limits of good
breeding. He could play with his children and knew how to establish
himself in their youthful souls. His student comrades remained the
friends of his old age, and his travelling companions, over whom he had
ruled as a leader, clung to him with affection until his or their death.
Who ever showed greater fidelity or firmer friendship than he did
towards those equals and colleagues who had come into close relations
with him in scientific matters or in family intercourse? They remained
closely linked to him in the bonds of affection for decades. From his
school-days on, he felt the need of friendship, and when a youth in
Paris he gave expression to his thoughts on friendship, and wrote: “A
circle of four friends bears the same relation to one of three that a
four-legged table bears to a three-legged. Thus two friends form a line
and three a surface.” His choice of friends fell exclusively on men of
intellectual prominence, but the “intellectual” in its modern, and
especially in its Berlin, sense, was repugnant to him. Manfully did he
defend the interests of those whom he knew to be men of ability and of
whose labors he had availed himself. After the designer Weidenbach had
done him invaluable service in Egypt and in the preparation of the great
work on monuments and the embellishment of the museum at Berlin, he was
left without employment. Lepsius wished to procure him a permanent
situation in the museum, and with good right, for his best years had
been passed entirely in works ordered by the government, and these he
had executed in the best possible manner and without regard to the more
lucrative situations which were offered him. Nevertheless the Minister,
v. Raumer, coolly refused the petition for this very deserving artist,
with the remark that Weidenbach might look for some other employment.
Thereupon Lepsius replied to the high official, who was a man of strict
piety but little human feeling, and whose ministry has long been
recognized as pernicious, “So you think as Talleyrand did, who to the
appeal of a suppliant “_Mais il faut pourtant que je vive_,” replied:
“_Je n’en vois pas la nécessité_.” Lepsius knew how to procure the
desired situation for his protégé, in spite of Raumer, and Weidenbach
filled it admirably to the end.
How is it conceivable the man lacked feeling who, during his whole
lifetime, was the object of the warmest attachment from men of such
tender feeling as Bunsen, the Grimms, Carl Ritter, Ernest Curtius, Max
Müller, and many others. Who can venture to accuse of heartlessness the
man who knew how to win the hearts of the best men and women, as he did?
On October 17th, 1838, Frau v. Bunsen wrote to Abeken from Llanover:
“Lepsius has won the first place in the heart of my mother, (a truly
venerable old lady of great experience) and is praised and admired in
different degrees by all.” And from how many friends and relations who
did not live in Berlin do we hear that it was a festival for them when
they received a visit from this great man, who, with all his personal
dignity, was most cheerful and sympathetic. His own mother had died
early (1819), but his father had married her younger sister, and had
found in her a worthy companion for himself, and the most faithful,
loving and discreet care-taker and educator for his children that could
have been imagined. After the death of the President of the Court the
widow’s share of his property amounted to so much that Frau Julie’s
future appeared to be assured. Nevertheless, her stepson Richard, our
Lepsius, with the cordial assent of his noble wife, immediately declared
himself ready to renounce in her favor the not inconsiderable
inheritance which would fall to his own share. The old lady did not
accept this gift, but Richard appears to have been always the favorite
among her stepsons. Do I need to recall the fatherly love and fidelity
which he showed to the adopted daughter, whom he brought up with his own
six children?
Before us lies a large quarto volume beautifully bound. It contains in
forty-eight manuscript pages an excellent description of Thebes. This is
entitled: “A cyclorama of Thebes, sent as a greeting from the distance
to my dear parents on their silver wedding, April, 1845.”[103] The whole
has the appearance of a “festal congratulation,” such as children offer
to their parents, and its beautiful penmanship evinces the most loving
care. Yet the author and writer was no less a person than the celebrated
leader of a great expedition and was then four and thirty years old. The
conclusion of this “congratulation” runs thus:
“We close to-day, with the week, both our sojourn and our labors in the
Memnonia of ancient Thebes. They have kept us fully occupied for
fourteen weeks. To-morrow, as a farewell to our Theban capital, I intend
to celebrate a little festival, which I have privately arranged. It will
be on the top of our hill, where this description was written. I am
going to have a new tent raised there and have it decked with green
pennons, and will share these pages with my travelling companions, as a
little celebration of your wedding feast. They are accustomed to feel a
friendly sympathy in all that nearly concerns or moves me, and therefore
in you. Thus, in the immediate enjoyment and observation of this
beautiful and remarkable scene, we will once more impress the principal
points upon our memories before our departure. We will remember you and
the large family circle, which, we hope, will have gathered from the
south and the north to surround you in undisturbed happiness. But I
shall think of you most vividly, since I cannot myself hand to you both
this greeting from the Nile. But so much the more impatiently do I hope
to follow it in a few months.”
These words were written by a warm-hearted man, and to them he appends
the following significant verses:
For science, though with effort strong we see
Her seek a lofty goal,
Though from its chains she wakes, and quick sets free,
The darkened soul,
Yet still has but a cold and borrowed light,
Like moonshine pale,
If the heart’s breath of life be wanting quite,
If warm love fail!
We have already repeatedly shown the beautiful and intimate relation
which bound Lepsius to his father, and pointed out how zealously he ever
tried to impart to his father everything that could please or interest
him. He never forgot what he owed to the guide of his youth and
childhood,--and it was not little. Above all others, the gift which he
had received from his father was the strong love of truth and order by
which he was distinguished. It was not only that this lightened his most
difficult labors, but it rather made many of them possible. Hand in hand
with this went the painstaking accuracy with which he worked. He never
laid aside anything which was not entirely completed and finished up to
the last detail. Thence it comes, for example, that the second and third
volumes of his chronology, announced in the preface, were never
published. He had begun important preparatory works for them, but as
these were not entirely finished he only gave them to the press in
detached monographs, which he could regard as completed. If, with the
exception of the Decree of Canopus, and a portion of the seventeenth
chapter of the Book of the Dead, we possess no continuous translation of
hieroglyphic texts by him, this circumstance is also to be explained by
his dislike to letting anything leave his hand and go to press which
contained flaws or was not perfectly completed and filled out. All that
he translated from ancient Egyptian into German gives the most
sufficient evidence of his mastery of this branch also, but the critical
philologist never prevailed upon himself to deliver a line which was
only half known as one that was known. The fragment of his translation
of the “Book of the Dead” which we have previously mentioned, and which
has for its basis a critical comparison of all the texts obtainable,
shows much greater ability than the translation of the entire “Book of
the Dead” which has recently been prematurely attempted by a later
Egyptologist.
It would be an error to call Lepsius a genius. He lacked the strong
imagination, the winged creative power which achieves feats that soar
beyond the conception of men of pure understanding, as well as the
indifference to the things of this world and the ardent temperament of a
genius. But he was a man of talent of the first order, with wonderful
intensity of intellect, and the rarest strength of will and capability
for learning and work. Besides this he was not only, as his wife said,
an “_homme comme il faut_,” that is, a man fitted to appear in society,
but also the model of a scholar, and what is more, of a man. It is true
that warm feeling is necessary for the latter, and we remain true to our
conviction that he possessed this.
In his Parisian diary, which was intended for himself alone, he tells of
the fall of a platform on the occasion of a public festival. A boy, who
was a stranger to him, was injured by it; he took him in his carriage,
and subsequently wrote: “I held him afterwards for a long time in my
arms, so that at least he should see something of the unveiling of the
statue.” On the 25th of July, 1834, he wrote in the same journal: “A
disagreeable and entirely unfounded slander will perhaps put an end to
my Egyptian project,” and immediately afterwards: “Heap coals of fire on
the head of thy enemy.”
This is what we call “kind-hearted,” this is christian in the right
sense of the word. He had absolute control of the property and never
restricted the beneficence of his wife, half of whose life was devoted
to the care of the poor and the like occupations. Even such sums as five
hundred thalers he willingly gave away when it was a question of saving
a poor family. Just as he visited me as a teacher, and gave me a portion
of his precious time, when a protracted illness prevented my going out
of the house, so did he seek out in the hospital a needy scholar as soon
as he heard of his severe illness, and there extend to him the most
cordial assistance, though the young man had never been personally
intimate with him, and had not been, like me, recommended to him by a
Grimm. And how many such things, which never came to my knowledge, could
be told of him!
Although those who cling to the letter of the faith would not approve
his Christianity, yet his life was a truly christian one. He ever made
an open confession of faith in God and Christ, he took, whenever he felt
the need for it, the holy sacrament, he experienced in himself the
blessings which Christianity had brought into the world, he recognized
them in history, and he allowed his children to be educated by his pious
wife without opposition. He declared to her, to Trumpp, and to others,
that the highest duty of human beings was “to love God above all others,
and one’s neighbor as oneself.” The new conquests of natural science had
no power to shake his faith in God, although he followed them with
interest after two of his sons had devoted themselves to such studies.
When doubts arose in him he imposed upon his own acute mental powers the
task of dissipating them, and an interesting composition was found among
his papers, in which he attempts to subvert the two principal
propositions in an eloquent masterpiece of Bois-Reymond’s[104] which had
disturbed his mind.
There has gone to the grave in Lepsius a true man, a noble and admirable
human being, and, (if we except the last years of his life) a fortunate
one; a man who was among the greatest, most zealous, and most successful
scholars of his time, and whose name and works will outlast the
centuries. We will close this biography with the earnest and reverential
words addressed to us by G. Maspero, the greatest of living French
Egyptologists and the worthy successor of Mariette in the guardianship
of all the monuments and excavations in Egypt, after he had received the
intelligence of the departure of our Senior Master.
“_Lepsius_,” he says, “_était un des derniers survivants de notre âge
héroique, et il avait été pendant longtemps nôtre maître à tous. Je ne
demande qu’une chose pour mon compte: c’est que plus tard au moment où
l’on en sera venu à dire pour moi ce que je dis pour lui, on puisse
affirmer que j’ai fait pour la science la moitié de ce qu’il a fait pour
elle._”
APPENDIX I.
THE GÖTTINGEN INSURRECTION.
GÖTTINGEN, _Dec. 8th-9th (1830)_,
ABOUT TWO O’CLOCK AT NIGHT.
I finally despatched the letter in which I wrote you of the
mutterings of the revolution; it broke out here at midday, with the
striking of the twelve o’clock bell. There was a great outcry on
the streets. “Revolution, Revolution!” they shouted; we rushed to
the market-place, which was already filled with citizens and
students; they stormed the town-hall and occupied it; in a trice
all the booths were torn down and the goods packed up in the
greatest haste. I hurried to my friend Kreiss, the Frenchman, whose
windows look directly on the market-place and the town-hall. It was
a remarkable scene; above and below, here, there, and everywhere,
glittered sabres and rifles; guards were posted on the steps which
led to the colonnade in front of the town-hall. Men in black, with
long green, blue and red sashes, bustled about under the colonnade,
and looked consequential; one man was carrying away a pole with a
big piece of sail-cloth; they tore it from him and wanted to use it
for a banner, and there was a great deal of laughing and joking. A
number of details, to be seen and heard at every step, I cannot
mention here. More guns appeared, sabres, broadswords, rapiers,
muskets, rifles, pistols, clubs; every man armed himself and they
all rushed to the town-hall, to inscribe their names blindly on the
lists. These were presented to the citizens and students by the
chief revolutionists, especially a Dr. v. Rauschenblatt, who had
quarrelled publicly with Professor Hugo, and had been forbidden to
read with the students. No one knew what he wanted, or what the
spectacle was for. Westphal, the superintendent of police,
immediately resigned his office, to prevent acts of violence. As
far as I could hear, the citizens particularly demanded a better
observance of the constitution and its improvement. They wished
that the authorities should render an account of the revenues,
which they had neglected to do for a number of years, that the high
taxes should be reduced, and the excise abolished. So said those
who had anything at all to say. V. Rauschenblatt with his aids had
long since been denounced by the burghers, and therefore sought to
win over the students. He made fiery revolutionary speeches in the
town-hall. “The rule of Liberalism,” “Overthrow of Servilism
throughout the land,” and such like general phrases appealing to
the ear, were constantly repeated, and it was plain to see that
this eccentric man in thus stirring up the people either had no
clear and rational grasp of the situation, or else was pursuing his
own egotistical aims. After a while none but armed men were allowed
to sign; all the shops where swords were sold were bought out,
there was no one left without some sort of weapon. I should often
have been forced to laugh at all this hocus-pocus and madness, if I
had not been vexed at it, for so far I did not believe that it
would lead to any serious consequences.
Then they marched in rank and file to v. Poten, the commandant of
the city, to demand that the military, who had been ordered out
for this evening, should not be admitted, and that a National Guard
should be organized. This was conceded. The citizens remained at
the town-hall, the students went to another spot, where v.
Rauschenblatt divided them into bands, and assigned them the senior
members of the societies for leaders. It was reported everywhere
that Professor Langenbeck would place himself at their head, but
there were still very few of them who knew where, how or why. All
the students actually assembled in front of Langenbeck’s house, and
hurrahed for him, with a frightful clamor and clashing of swords.
He showed himself at the window, and begged them all to sign
together. Meanwhile the gate had long been closed and guarded, the
soldiers had been dismissed, and were keeping quiet. When three
hundred had signed, (and I among them, as the sole object was to
keep peace and order,) v. Rauschenblatt came up with some of his
adherents, and assured everybody that it was no longer necessary to
sign: the only object was to lead the people astray, and to make
use of them once more for the promotion of “Servilism.” They did
not need court counsellors at their head to lead them: every one
who signed here was faithless to his previous signing at the
town-hall, and deserted the true cause, and so on; also no one must
go at seven o’clock to the Rohns, (an inn and meeting-hall) whither
the court counsellor Langenbeck had summoned us all. By this time
it was already dark, all the streets were full of tumult. Heads
were thick in the market-place. At the town-hall stood the
musicians and played the Marseillaise, and then again God save the
King, and then Lützow’s hunting song, and the barcarolle, and
students’ songs. The crowd continually hurrahed and shouted and
howled. I passed once over the piazza before the town-hall, always
with a broadsword of course, for without it one could not get
through anywhere. Rauschenblatt was standing above, and giving one
_vivat_ after another for freedom and equality. It was nearly seven
o’clock. As I passed the demagogue I asked him “which way,” for we
had heard of some other place where the revolutionists were
assembling. “Only not to the Rohns,” he said hastily, “we will now
march round the town.” Then the music had to go in front, and the
whole crowd behind it. Wherever they passed they cried, “Bring out
the lights!” The market-place had been already illuminated for a
long time. Meanwhile it snowed hard. Soldiers had several times
come before the gates, but because these were locked, and Poten
himself ordered them off, they went away again. Then it struck
seven, and I, always a good citizen, hastened with my friends to
the Rohns. At first there were few there; the music had drawn most
of the people to the other side, but it filled up more and more. I
could already hear how the men were dividing up into different
parties, for it was easy to understand that the revolutionists
would disturb us. Now came Langenbeck and summoned us to form a
national guard to maintain peace and order as they had done in
Leipsic. Then a couple of violent brawlers took sides against him,
and would hear nothing of it; “We shall join the townspeople,” they
cried, “Here we are citizens! We don’t want to be nothing but
academicians!” and so on. Langenbeck became undecided in his
utterances, he did not wish to hear of any meddling with politics,
they must let the townsmen do as they liked, not oppose them and
not help them. But he had not presence of mind enough to give his
opinions positively and strongly. Then Rauschenblatt pushed through
the crowd, and Langenbeck became much confused. They got into a
violent altercation, a fearful din was raised on all sides, we
hurrahed for Langenbeck and the other men for Rauschenblatt, sabres
and broadswords were drawn, so that the whole hall clattered; an
instantaneous reflection of it would have made a splendid picture.
I will not make you anxious by telling how I came forward and
expressed my opinion, but it must be remembered that so far there
had been no danger, as in the whole town there was no longer any
one for the rioters to turn against, and therefore there was no
bloody disturbance of the peace to fear. Some shots which were
fired gave a little anxiety, but amounted to nothing. Langenbeck
then got up on the table, but did not stay long on this platform
and went away; he certainly might have managed his affairs better.
Rauschenblatt now spoke much more forcibly and coherently--at least
it sounded so to the ear; at the same time he brandished his
pistols and talked of traitors, and then he went away too. But a
great many were still left. They had not seen Langenbeck go out; he
was loudly called for, for the men there were mostly his followers;
the few revolutionists who remained only interrupted at intervals
the appropriate and forcible remarks of the tutor, Göschen, who had
now climbed on to the table and continued to speak in the same
strain as Langenbeck. He bade them resolve above all to preserve
peace and order for this night. Meanwhile the seniors of the
societies had already come to an agreement, had set a main watch,
and then sent out sentinels and patrols. On the whole the temper of
the students seemed to have moderated, and our party to have
increased in comparison with the revolutionists, who had at first
been much more numerous. Then we went to Göschen’s (that is, some
acquaintances and I) and eat our supper. Afterwards we went again
to Langenbeck, who had meanwhile been to the main watch with the
tutor, to take him again to the Rohns, as had been decided on. But
this was not done, and we now set a watch in Langenbeck’s
auditorium which is at the side of his house, stationed a guard of
twelve men round his house, and took turns in patrolling through
the town. Who goes there? Patrol or sentinel of the night watch, or
this or that, was perpetually resounding through the streets; a
drunken citizen was escorted home, we visited guards and gates, in
short until two o’clock I was constantly on my legs, and now I am
writing this to you immediately. But what I wish is that you should
have no anxiety about me, for indeed I am not wanting in prudence;
besides the whole affair up to now has not taken on any dangerous
character, because there is no object for it. To-morrow, or rather
early to-day, about nine o’clock we are to be at the Rohns again.
SUNDAY, MIDDAY,
ABOUT ONE O’CLOCK.
Langenbeck’s guard has long been removed. The societies join the
citizens under the seniors and Rauschenblatt. Langenbeck had still
a large party at the Rohns this morning at nine o’clock; he called
delegates from the societies into his house, where several
professors were assembled. The seniors who came, (there were but
few of them) seemed to have become more moderate. Then Langenbeck
went once more to the town-hall. There were assembled in the senate
chamber the deputies of the town and other citizens and students,
who now played quite a rôle. We guarded the door; Rauschenblatt,
Dr. Schuster, Eyting and other revolutionists were inside;
Langenbeck wished to come to an understanding with them, and
stayed in there a long time, there was a very violent dispute, but
he came out again without having settled anything, and he said
himself that he must now withdraw, and that his party had
dissolved. I, and most of my friends except Gravenhorst, will join
nobody, not even the societies.--At the same time a general
revolution has broken out all over Hanover. If it becomes more
serious here I will perhaps leave the town, but so far there has
been no danger; and perhaps the whole revolution will pass over
quietly. I will write to you soon again, until then
YOUR RICHARD.
Among the letters to his father is the certificate signed by General von
dem Busche, which permitted Lepsius to remain longer in Göttingen. For
many students this tempest in a tea-pot was to have very disagreeable
consequences, for a rescript from the King dated January 11th, 1831,
commanded all Hanoverian subjects studying in Göttingen to leave the
town immediately. Those who should remain in spite of this were deprived
of all right to any situation in the public service of the King. The
foreigners among the students were also expelled, and could only obtain
permission for a longer stay by means of special intercessions. “Above
all” the lectures were stopped until Easter.
APPENDIX II.
LEPSIUS’ REPORT TO THE BERLIN ROYAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES ON THE
COMMENCEMENT OF HIS EGYPTOLOGICAL STUDIES.
Somewhat more than a year and a half ago I began the study of Egyptian
antiquity by the path which had been substantially opened to modern
science, and firmly trodden by her, since Champollion’s important
discoveries regarding phonetic hieroglyphs. I did so with a generally
diffused doubt as to the soundness of the new doctrine which had been
almost exclusively founded and embraced by a French scholar. The system
of Champollion was a purely empirical one, which had not yet been
reduced to order. It affirmed more than it proved, and appealed to me
less at the beginning, in proportion as I had become accustomed in those
of my previous studies which related especially to philology, to seek
organic coherence in science, and only to admit as a foundation there
for reasons of intrinsic worth. I began with the _Précis
hiéroglyphique_, as the most comprehensive statement of the new
discovery, and found on every side assertions which seemed to me
undemonstrable, and evidence which seemed to me imperfect. I reserved to
myself some doubts as to the reading of the names Ptolemy and Berenice,
which would need to be solved to satisfy reasonable criticism. But in
the phonetic hieroglyphs the substitution of the vowels seemed to me too
arbitrary, and the mixing of the phonetic with the figurative and
symbolical hieroglyphs, to represent one and the same word, seemed quite
inadmissable. In my earlier palaeographic researches amongst occidental
and oriental writings I had always found the strictest economy and a
surprising significance in the original signs for the sounds, united
with an accuracy which has hitherto been far too little regarded. But
here I had to accustom myself to a superfluity, I might say a
prodigality, of signs, which yet only imperfectly attained their object,
and therefore seemed so much the more to be chosen arbitrarily and
multiplied in a chaotic manner.
Nevertheless, I did not allow myself to be discouraged from proceeding
further, because at the same time I saw plainly that there were many
things which were incontestably correct, and I also believed that I had
found a coherence in the system, and several isolated proofs of it,
which had escaped the discoverer himself. Thence I began to believe that
it was a question of method, and that it was only necessary to separate
the certain from the uncertain in order to make clear the true condition
of affairs, and the real extent of what had so far been achieved on this
field. Here other workers had preceded me, some of whom sided with and
some against Champollion. More especially since the French Expedition an
immense literature has begun to investigate, describe, and profit by
every aspect of Old and New Egypt. By making myself as thoroughly as
possible acquainted with this, I endeavored to keep myself as free as
possible from a one-sided apprehension and criticism of hieroglyphics,
and of Egyptian learning in general, so far as it rests upon native
authorities.
A problem which was to be solved above all others concerned the Coptic
language. Even the purely historical researches in the “_Recherches sur
la langue et la littérature de l’Égypte_” by Etienne Quatremére had not
been able to satisfy me regarding the identity of this tongue with the
ancient Egyptian, or, at least, its direct descent therefrom. But on a
closer acquaintance with this language, and its application on the
hieroglyphic and demotic monuments, every doubt must be dispelled as to
its being the sole key to the ancient language of the Egyptians, and the
only one which could lead to the end in view. I have since applied
myself chiefly to the study of the Coptic language, to which I also felt
myself especially attracted by my previous linguistic studies. Within a
few days there have arrived in Paris the last sheets of a Coptic lexicon
which has been prepared from the most copious sources by Amadeo Peyron,
and shows extensive learning. From the first I have directed my labors
on the Coptic tongue to the end of preparing a grammar of that language,
especially intended to lighten the study of hieroglyphics, and in
accordance with the philological science of the present day.
In order to give you, most highly esteemed Herr General Secretary, a
comprehensive idea of the course of my studies up to the present time in
the department in question, I must further mention two circumstances,
which were especially favorable to me. One was my sojourn in Paris,
which is the place altogether best adapted to obtaining an initiation
into Egyptian antiquity. The first broad foundation for this science was
laid on the part of the French in the “_Description de l’Égypte_.” A
French scholar first procured access to the native monuments of Egypt,
and for a number of years he was the center of Egyptian studies on
account of his admirable talent, which seemed made for the deciphering
of the Egyptian monuments. I need not say that for these reasons there
can be no lack in Paris of the most perfect aids to study, as regards
both literature and monuments. But that to which I attribute yet
greater weight is that there is always a large number of men assembled
there who take the most lively and direct interest in the discoveries of
their countryman, and are in a position to give thorough information,
generally directed by their own opinions, on all the different parts and
details. They were frequently more instructive to me through their
conversation than any books could have been. I often felt there the
great value of the _viva voce_ correction of many unavoidable errors in
the judgment of persons, objects and facts. These are of far greater
importance in so young a science than in one which has been long
founded. As a second favorable circumstance I would mention my early
acquaintance with a young, learned and talented man, François Salvolini.
For ten years he educated himself exclusively for the study of
hieroglyphics under the personal direction of Champollion, he took
copies of the most important drawings and manuscript works of his
teacher, part of which are still inaccessible to the public, and with
the greatest liberality he opened to me his important collections, and
allowed me the freest use of them. Under the auspices of the Sardinian
government he is occupying himself with a comprehensive work on the
Rosetta inscriptions, specimens of which he communicated to me. He also
gave me a verbal explanation of the details. I thus became acquainted in
the most rapid and thorough manner with the real value of the system of
Champollion, and the development which it has thus far attained. It is
true that the principal doubts which I had entertained were not entirely
removed, but I believed in the difficulties which still remained to see,
not a refutation of the system, but only a want of completeness.
Especially I became aware that many difficulties might be removed when
some other linguistic standpoint than that previously employed should be
adopted.
At the same time it seemed to me of the greatest importance to come to a
positive opinion as to the relation of the Egyptian language to the
other civilized languages of the ancient world, and to my great
satisfaction I have now arrived at the conviction that the primitive
Egyptian language is by no means so far removed from the Semitic and
Indo-Germanic as, on a superficial examination, it has hitherto been
almost universally considered. I believe that I shall not in all
subsequent investigations into Egyptian antiquity allow myself to lose
sight of this comparative point of view, since the great interest which
the history of Egyptian civilization offers, as one of the most ancient
of which we have a general historical knowledge, is without doubt
greatly increased when we learn to know it also in its original relation
to other civilizations. It also seems to me a worthy and useful task to
draw the Egyptian people within the circle of those great groups of
nations, whose most ancient history has in modern times acquired an
altogether different aspect by means of the comparison of languages. I
propose to preface my Coptic grammar with a special chapter on the
relation of the Egyptian to the Semitic and Indo-Germanic primitive
languages. I most respectfully beg you, Herr General Secretary, to
present to the most favorable consideration of the very worshipful
Academy two treatises in which I have attempted to prove the linguistic
relationship of these two families of language. These papers treat of
distinct points which would find no place in the Coptic Grammar. The
first relates to the numerical words, the second to the arrangement of
the alphabet, among the different nations.
Thus I have chiefly made use of my sojourn in Paris to acquire a general
knowledge of Egyptian science, and am thereby placed in a position to
adopt a decided course for the future according to the needs which seem
to me most urgent, and to those abilities of my own which I believe to
have been best developed by my previous studies. Therefore it now
becomes a matter of special importance, in order to arrive at the best
possible conclusions of my own, to procure correct copies of the
numerous Egyptian monuments scattered about through the various French
museums, and especially in Italy.
To undertake a journey to Italy for this purpose must be all the more
desirable for me since a corresponding member of the Academy, whose name
will always be mentioned beside that of Champollion as one of the most
distinguished promoters of Egyptian science, H. P. Rosellini of Pisa,
has offered, with the most noble disinterestedness, to reveal to me the
rich treasures which he has brought back from Egypt, and, under his own
invaluable guidance, to place them at my service.
Since I could not have been able to undertake this journey on my own
resources, I have to thank the resolves of the most worshipful Academy
alone, if I can directly pursue the object which is the aim of my
scientific career. I must appreciate the more profoundly the special
encouragement which I have thus received as up to the present time I
have been able to present no sort of security on my part to the most
worshipful Academy. For this reason I will make all the more
conscientious use of the appropriation granted me. I will from time to
time lay before the most worshipful Academy an account of the
expenditure thereof, and seek to prove myself worthy of the confidence
which has been shown me by the greatest zeal in the promotion of this
most fruitful science, which has been so little cultivated in our own
country.
With the most distinguished esteem and respect.
RICHARD LEPSIUS.
APPENDIX III.
EXTRACT FROM THE REPORT ADDRESSED TO THE MINISTRY, ON THE
ACQUISITIONS AND RESULTS OF THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT UNDER R.
LEPSIUS.
BERLIN, _March 12, 1846_.
The antiquarian Expedition to Egypt, Nubia and the Peninsula of Sinai,
ordered in the year 1842 by his Majesty, our most gracious and
illustrious King Frederick William IV., and committed to my leadership,
is completed.
My reports, transmitted to your Excellency from time to time, will have
convinced you that it has been executed entirely in accordance with the
plans advised by the Royal Academy of Sciences, most graciously approved
by his Majesty, and submitted to your Excellency before departure. You
will also observe that the annual sum of money appropriated at the
beginning has not been exceeded, and that it has also been made to cover
the important excavations, transportations and purchases, for which no
special appropriation had been made. The journey of two years has,
however, extended itself to three and a half. My companions were not
able to return before the end of last year, and I myself not till the
27th of January of this year; a possibility which had been already
foreseen in the advice of the Royal Academy.
With regard to the material welfare of its members the Expedition may
be called in every way a very fortunate one, and especially favored by
Providence. The members were eight in number, with the addition of three
others who joined as volunteers, and all returned in good condition to
European soil. The painter Frey alone could not support the climate, and
on that account was obliged to return from Lower Egypt to Europe, where
he has since recovered. As a contrast to this, the company of Professor
Ehrenberg lost nine members, in spite of the greatest care. They were,
however, under much more unfavorable conditions, and through his advice
we profited by their experiences. It was still worse with the English
under Clapperton. The French Tuscan expedition also lost both its
leaders, besides many other members, in consequence of the journey. As
we did not, like the expeditions mentioned, have a physician with us, we
were obliged to redouble our direct attention to ourselves, and I
ascribe the fortunate result, next to the protection of Providence,
chiefly to the excellent conduct, mutual helpfulness and strict regard
for order of all the members. There was but one exception, the moulder
Franke, whom I was forced to dismiss on account of unseemly disturbances
of this order. This harmony and admirable disposition of the members
also greatly facilitated the management for me, and I cannot but praise
this spirit especially in our architect, Herr Erbkam, who stood by me on
every occasion as a true and helpful friend.
As far as the scientific results are concerned, I must first observe
that scarcely any other expedition had been undertaken under such
favorable circumstances. Amongst these circumstances I reckon chiefly
the definiteness of the tasks which were set before us, and which we
were able on this account to pursue with perfect system. The expedition
most immediately comparable with ours was Champollion’s, but that was
more a voyage of discovery, and necessarily suffered from the very
deficiencies which we were easily able to supply. The advantages which
he had as founder of the science and from his incomparable ability as a
student of monuments, were for us more than counterbalanced by the
firmer and broader foundations of the science, the last results of which
are now presented to us in Bunsen’s remarkable work on history. Added to
this was our greater previous knowledge of the interesting localities
which we had to investigate. From the very beginning of the journey we
could within wide limits strive for completeness, without suffering from
any want of new, unexpected and most highly important discoveries.
Especially had Champollion left behind to us, practically uncommenced,
the investigation of the oldest Egyptian history, that is, the epoch of
the first Pharaonic kingdom from about 3000 to 1700 years before Christ,
which extends the history of the world for almost 1500 years. He had
only ascended the valley of the Nile as far as the second cataract,
beyond which there still exist a great multitude of old Egyptian
monuments of all kinds, as yet entirely uninvestigated. There the whole
of Ethiopian antiquity, which cannot be separated from the Egyptian,
must find its interpretation and, if I do not deceive myself, has done
so through us.
Thence it follows that our results are by far the most important in
chronology and history. The pyramid fields of Memphis, whose importance
had not been recognized by Champollion, and which had therefore scarcely
been touched by him, have placed the Egyptian civilization of those
remote ages before us, in four hundred large pictures. The
representation which they furnish must for all future time be regarded
with the highest interest and considered the beginning of investigable
human history. Those earliest dynasties of the Egyptian rulers now offer
us more than a barren succession of empty, unknown or doubtful names.
They have not only been raised beyond all reasonable doubt and been
critically arranged in order and according to the correct periods of
time, but through the contemplation of the political, civil and artistic
popular life which bloomed under their reigns, they have preserved an
intellectual and often very individual historical reality.
This is the greatest success of our journey and must always be a
convincing proof of the great and lasting service rendered to science by
our expedition and its illustrious promoter. I pass over for the present
the details of the evidence, which can only be rightly estimated by
those co-workers on this field who shall make later and more extensive
investigations. But I will mention that in Middle Egypt up to Thebes we
found eight separate places of sepulchre, belonging to the Old Kingdom,
which the French Tuscan expedition had passed by without suspicion. Of
some of these we were the discoverers, and others we were the first to
recognize as belonging to that period, and to excavate. We could not
fail, also, to make a great number of more or less substantial
restorations, corrections and additions to the history of the most
flourishing period of the New Empire, which was peculiarly the prime of
Thebes, as well as to that of the following dynasties. Even those
Ptolemies who were apparently completely known in the light of Grecian
history, have appeared in a new aspect in their Egyptian representations
and inscriptions, and indeed have been recruited by some individuals
scarcely mentioned by the Greeks and whose existence has hitherto been
considered doubtful. Finally the Roman emperors, in their character of
Egyptian rulers, have also appeared to us on the Egyptian monuments in
greater and almost perfect completeness. They have been carried down,
from Caracalla, (who had till now been recognized as the last whose name
was written in hieroglyphics,) through two later emperors to Decius.
Thus the whole extent of Egyptian monumental history has been increased
at the latter end also by a number of years.
Egyptian philology, too, has made no insignificant advances during the
journey. The lexicon has been increased by the addition of some hundred
signs or groups, and the grammar has received manifold corrections.
Besides this a wealth of material has been gathered, especially by means
of the numerous paper impressions of the most important inscriptions,
the gradual interpretation of which must lead to substantial progress in
the science. According to the great age established for the earliest
written monuments the history of the Egyptian language now embraces a
period of nearly five and a half thousand years, and thus acquires an
entirely new significance in relation to the universal history of human
language and writing. In matters of detail one of the most important
discoveries on this field was two bi-lingual decrees, written in
hieroglyphics and demotic, which were discovered in Philae. One of these
repeats the inscription of Rosetta, and there is promise of important
results from a comparison between them. The news of this seemed so
important to the French that they resolved on sending out the famous
scholar Ampére, with an artist, expressly to copy this one monument. I
first became aware of their intention through the publication and
philological exploration of that inscription, now just appearing in
print.
According to my opinion Egyptian mythology, in spite of countless works
upon the subject, has hitherto been without any firm foundation. I had
almost abandoned the hope that our expedition would achieve any actual
advance for this science, when upon the return journey I discovered in
the Theban temples a series of monuments which threw so much unexpected
light upon its essential nature and historical phases, that I have come
to the conclusion that upon this basis Egyptian mythology may for the
first time be presented according to its true import and in its
historical development.
The history of art has never been worked out from the present standpoint
of Egyptology. To accomplish this was necessarily one of the chief
objects of our expedition and the advanced chronological knowledge of
the monuments conduced greatly to progress in this direction. For the
first time we have been able to trace the various divisions of the
history of art in the Old Egyptian Empire, previous to the invasion of
the “Hyksos,” and thus to extend it, as well as Egyptian history in
general, for about thirteen centuries upwards and for some decades
downwards. We were also obliged to regard the history of art almost
exclusively in the selection of our collection of monuments, of which I
shall speak again hereafter. Amongst the different branches of Egyptian
art, architecture, which had been entirely neglected by Champollion and
Rosellini, was especially well handled by our skillful and industrious
architect Erbkam. From him it received the treatment befitting the
important position of this special branch, in which the artistic element
of grandeur, bestowed upon the Egyptians above all other nations, could
be and was most highly developed. The rendering of the sculpture and
painting fell to the other artists who accompanied us. They soon learned
to reproduce with praiseworthy skill the peculiar Egyptian style, which
in spite of all the childish constraint that characterizes Egyptian art,
yet contains an unmistakable and finely perfected ideal element. If the
Grecian genius had not received art from the Egyptians as a child so
severely, chastely and carefully reared, it could never have given to it
such a positive character of blooming freedom. The chief task of the
history of Egyptian art is to show wherein consisted this culture of
art, which no ancient Asiatic nation shares with the Egyptian. I will
adduce as one of the most important details belonging here, that we have
found three separate canons of the proportions of the human figure, in
numerous examples, upon uncompleted monuments; one for the old Pharaonic
kingdom, another for the New Empire since the eighteenth dynasty, and a
third which first came into general use shortly before the time of the
Ptolemies. This latter involved an entire change of the principle of
distribution, and remained in force under the Roman emperors to the end.
These discoveries are also of decided importance in judging of the Greek
canon.
Next to the history of art, however, a great part of our time and
attention was claimed by Egyptian archaeology in its widest sense. This
was a field which had already been worked with success and industry,
especially by Wilkinson and Rosellini. It contains an inexhaustible
wealth of detached monuments of common life, and representations thereof
of all kinds, far exceeding in abundance all other remains of antiquity.
And on this account this branch of study needed much more a vigorous
prosecution of its aims and elevation of its standard, than a farther
accumulation of details. Nevertheless these are continually coming in
from all sides and have been collected by ourselves in great quantity as
material.
Finally, geography and chorography, to which travellers are always
expected to make additions, demand special attention. In Fayoum we have
for the first time thoroughly investigated the Labyrinth. It lies
beside Lake Moeris, which was discovered by Linant, but is now dry. We
have been able to assign the Labyrinth its place in history through the
discovery of the founder’s name. Our description of the ruined cities
and monuments of antiquity in the land of the Nile, up to Senaar, will
be more complete and exact than any previously given. So also will be
our account of the rarely travelled dependencies of the dominion of the
Pharaohs, such as the Ethiopian countries, the eastern mountains between
the Nile and the Red Sea, and the colonies in the copper region of
Mafkat (of the Peninsula of Sinai.) Only the oases of the western desert
we have unfortunately been obliged to leave unexplored. In more modern
geography, which must always accompany and correct the ancient, I have
devoted special care to obtaining the Arabian names accurately, in order
to counteract as far as possible, at least upon the region traversed by
us, the intolerable confusion of designations. I have prepared upon the
way accurate geographical maps of various parts of the eastern mountains
of Egypt and the Arabian copper region. Respecting the border lands of
Mahommed Ali’s dominion, towards Abyssinia, I have collected and
recorded graphically important geographical information from
particularly well-informed people of that region. On the Peninsula of
Sinai I have not only for the first time investigated more exactly the
ancient Egyptian copper mines, the working of which, according to the
pictures on the rocks and inscriptions, preserved at Wadi-Magara, goes
back to the time of Cheops, about 3000 years before Christ, but I have
also traced out the route of the Israelites to Sinai. In doing so I have
come to the conclusion, which I have sought to prove in a preliminary
report to his Majesty, that a tradition of comparatively late origin
has wrongly designated the mountain which the monks call Gebel Mûsa as
the Sinai of the Bible, and that Horeb or Sinai, the Mount of God,
corresponds rather to the present Serbâl, which lies some days’ journey
to the north of Gebel Mûsa. A noteworthy contribution has been made to
the history of the physical conditions of the Nile valley through the
discovery of the nilometer of Semneh in the region of the Nubian
cataracts. From this it is apparent that about 4000 years ago, under the
rule of Amenemha-Moeris, the Nile at that place rose in average years
twenty-two feet higher than now, while in Egypt at about that time it
stood at least ten to fifteen feet lower, so that the Nile at the
intervening cataracts fell thirty-five feet farther than at present.
This gradual leveling of the bed of the stream has had the most decisive
influence on the cultivation of the valley, and the history of its whole
population, since the shore of the Nubian country lying along the stream
was made inaccessible to the natural inundation by this great sinking of
the water, and thence became dry and unfruitful.
Besides all our acquisitions in the ancient Egyptian language we have
made some not unimportant gains for the science of language in general.
In the upper countries of the Nile I have obtained three African
languages, the grammar and lexicon of which I have made out and noted
down from the communications of the natives, with sufficient
completeness to present a clear idea of them. They are: 1. the Congâra
language, a negro language of the interior, spoken in Darfur and the
adjoining countries: 2. the Nuba language, which is spoken in two
dialects in a portion of the valley of the Nubian Nile, and in the
neighboring districts to the southwest. This appears, moreover, to be of
primitive African origin. It has never been written, and I have
collected for the first time a considerable quantity of Nubian
manuscript literature, by getting a Nubian sheik, who was entire master
of the Arabian language and writing, to translate from Arabian into
Nubian, the fables of Lokman, the Gospel of St. Mark, and a portion of
the Thousand and One Nights. I also had him write down and translate
into Arabian about twenty Nubian songs, some in rhyme, and some only
rythmical. In doing this he displayed a wonderful talent for the correct
comprehension of linguistic relations. 3. The Béga language of the race
of the Bishareen who are widely scattered between the Red Sea and the
Nubian Nile. This appears to be a most important branch of the original
Asiatic-Caucasian family of languages, and deserves our attention so
much the more since it seems that it can be historically proved to be
the present form of the ancient Egyptian language of Meroë. I have also
found in those countries, and in the pyramids of Meroë, a great number
of old Ethiopian inscriptions, which are recorded in an alphabetical
writing until now entirely unknown. Subsequent inscriptions are in an
alphabet formed after the Greek, and they can probably both be
deciphered by the aid of the Béga language. Finally we have also made
the completest possible collection of many hundreds of paper impressions
from Grecian inscriptions. These are now of great value as a
contribution to the knowledge of Grecian-Egyptian antiquity, which has
been industriously cultivated on several sides. We have also made
another collection of the numerous so-called “Inscriptions of Sinai”
which were cut into the rocks by a Christian population who lived on the
Peninsula of Sinai in the first centuries of our era. These have not yet
been entirely deciphered.
We have only been able to give occasional attention to subjects
pertaining to natural science. Yet I have not neglected to collect
specimens of stone and soil from all important localities, especially
during trips into the remote mountain regions. A chemical investigation
and comparison of the specimens of Nile mud collected from different
spots and under different conditions will perhaps be of interest. We
have visited the old alabaster quarry of El Bosra, opposite Sioot, which
has recently been discovered by the Bedouins and is now worked by Selim
Pasha. We found there an inscription on the rock dating from the
beginning of the eighteenth dynasty. We have also visited the quarries
of granite and of “_breccia verde_” at Hammamât, which have been in use
since the most ancient times, as well as the porphyry and granite
quarries on Gebel Duchàn (Mons Claudianus, Mons Porphyrites,) in the
eastern mountains of Egypt, (see page 160) which were celebrated in
Roman times. We have brought back specimens of rock from them all. The
most valuable blocks of “_breccia verde_,” of every size, lie directly
on one of the finest and most convenient desert highways, two days
journey from the Nile, and would be excellently adapted to removal and
exportation. On account of our antiquarian aims we were especially
interested in the opportunity of becoming acquainted with the present
world of animals and plants in the southern regions of Nubia, which
conspicuously resembles the representations on the most ancient Egyptian
monuments. It scarcely appears possible to account for this except by
the assumption of a universal recession of the more highly developed
forms of natural life in the Nile valley from the north towards the
south.
INDEX
TO THE WORKS OF RICHARD LEPSIUS.
I. _De tabulis Eugubinis. Diss. philologica. Berolini_, 1833. 8.
II. _L’ami au vainqueur, oenochoé_ (οἰνοχοή) _à inscriptions.
Annales de l’Institut de corr. arch._ 1833. V. p. 357-363.
III. _Palaeographie als Mittel für die Sprachforschung zunächst am
Sanskrit nachgewiesen._ [Palaeography as a Means of Philological
Research, with Special Reference to Sanskrit.] Berl. 1834. 8.
IV. _Über die_ πρῶτα στοιχεῖα _in der Stelle bei Clemens
Alexandrinus über die Schrift der Aegypter_. [On the πρῶτα στοιχεῖα
in the Passage from Clemens Alexandrinus on the Writing of the
Egyptians.] _Aus d. N.-Rhein. Museum für Philologie_, 1835. Vol.
IV. p. 142-148. 8.
V. _Über die Anordnung und Verwandtschaft der semitischen,
indischen, altägyptischen und äthiopischen Alphabete._ [On the
Arrangement and Relation of the Semitic, Hindoo, ancient Egyptian
and Ethiopian Alphabets.] _Berlin. Abhdlg. d. Akademie 1835._
VI. _Über den Ursprung und die Verwandtschaft der Zahlwörter in der
koptischen, semitischen und indogermanischen Sprache._ _Berlin._
_Abhdlg. d. Akademie 1836. Die Abhandlungen V und VI zusammen sind
noch im selben Jahre (1836) im Dümmler’schen Verlag zu Berlin als
Buch erschienen._ 8. [On the Origin and Relationship of the
Numerical Words in the Coptic, Semitic, and Indo-Germanic
Languages. Berlin, Transactions of the Academy, 1836. The two
papers, V and VI, were published together as a book, in the same
year, by Dümmler.]
VI.a. _Recension über Guarini’s_ valore della cifra SEXS in un
marmo di Pompeji. [_Review of Guarini’s_ valore della cifra SEXS in
un marmo di Pompeji] · _Bulletino dell’inst. di corresp. archeol._
N. VII. 6. 1836. p. 126-128.
VII. _Sarcofago etrusco. Bull. dell’inst. di corresp. archeol.
Roma._ Nr. IX e X, 1836. s. 147-49.
VIII. _Sur la valeur de la lettre [Illustration: symbol] dans
l’alphabet étrusque. Annali dell’inst. archeol._ 1837. _Roma_ Vol.
VIII. p. 164-170.
IX. _Recension von Arneth’s_ synopsis numerorum. [Review of
Arneth’s Synopsis Numerorum.] _Bull. dell’inst. archeol. Roma._
1837. p. 111-112.
X. _Notizie compendiate, ibid._ 1837. p. 121-127. Nr. VII e VIII.
XI. _Monuments de Nahr el-Kelb près Beirout, ibid._ 1837. p.
134-135.
XII. _Observations sur un vase de fabrication Étrusque avec deux
alphabets Grecs et sur une inscription de la ville Pélasgique
d’Agylla. Avec 1 planche._ Rome 1837. 8. _Aus den Annali dell’inst.
archeol. Roma._ Vol. VIII. p. 186-203.
XIII. _Lettre à Mr. le Professeur H. Rosellini sur l’alphabet
hiéroglyphique. Avec 2 planches._ Rome 1837. 8. _Aus den Annali
dell’inst. archeol. Roma._ 1837. Vol. IX. _Archeologica egiziana_,
_Primo articulo preliminario sull’ alfabeto geroglifico_, 1837. I.
p. 5-100.
XIV. _Statue di Todi. Bull. dell’inst. etc._ 1837. No. III. p.
25-28.
XV. _Notice sur deux statues Égyptiennes représentant l’une la mère
du roi Ramsès-Sésostris, l’autre le roi Amasis. Avec 1 planche_,
Rome, 1838.[105] 8. _Aus den Annali dell’inst. arch. Roma_, 1837.
Vol. IX. p. 167-176.
XVI. _Notice sur les bas-reliefs Égyptiens and Persans de Beirout
en Syrie. Avec 1 planche_, Rome, 1838. 8. _Annali dell’inst. arch._
1838. Vol. X. p. 12 to 19.
XVII. _Über die beiden ägyptischen Colossalstatuen der Sammlung
Drovetti im Museum zu Berlin._ [On the Two Colossal Egyptian
Statues of the Drovetti Collection in the Museum at Berlin.] Berl.
Mon.-Ber. 1838. 8.
XVIII. The same paper in French in the _Bulletino dell’inst. arch._
1838. p. 37-46, under the title _Deux statues colossales
égyptiennes de la collection Drovetti qui se trouvent actuellement
au musée royal de Berlin_.
XIX. _Sur l’ordre des colonnes-piliers en Égypte et ses rapports
avec le second ordre égyptien et la colonne grecque. Avec 2 pl._
Rome 1838. 8. _Aus den Annali dell’inst. archeol. Roma._ 1837. Vol.
II. p. 65 ff.
XX. _Monuments de Beirout. Annali dell’inst. arch. Roma._ 1838. p.
12-19.
XXa. _Analise des inscriptions hiéroglyphique_ (to No. XV). _Annali
dell’inst. archeol. Roma._ 1838. Vol. X. p. 103.
XXI. _Lettre sur les inscriptions de la grande pyramide de
Gîzeh,--in Sam. Birch, Eclairciss. sur le cercueil du Roi
Mycérinus_, Berlin 1839. 4.
XXII. On the Obelisk of Philae. From The Literary Gazette, London.
1839. No. 1163.
XXIII. _Bassorilievo egizio presso di Smirna 1840. Lettera al
Dottore E. Braun, Bull. dell’ inst. archeol. Roma._ 1840. p. 33-39.
XXIV. _Über das Basrelief, den Ramses-Sesostris darstellend._ [On
the Bas-relief representing Ramses-Sesostris.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._
1840. 8.
XXV. _Bericht an die Akademie d. Wissensch. zu Berlin über den
Erfolg seiner ägyptischen Studien._ [Report to the Berlin Academy
of Science on the Results of his Egyptological Studies.] _Berl.
Mon.-Ber._ 1840. 8.
XXVI. _Marchi et Tessiere, L’aes grave del museo Kircheriano.
Recension i. d. Annali dell’ inst. arch. Roma._ 1841. p. 99-115.
XXVII. _Über die ausgedehnte Anwendung des Spitzbogens in
Deutschland im 10 und 11 Jahrhundert. Als Einleitung zu der
deutschen Übersetzung von Henry Gally Knight’s Entwickelung der
Architektur unter den Normannen._ [On the Extended Application of
the Pointed Arch in Germany in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries. As
an Introduction to the German Translation of Henry Gally Knight’s
Development of Architecture under the Normans.] _Lpzg._ 1841. gr.
8.
XXVIII. _Inscriptions Umbricae et Oscae quotquot adhuc repertae
sunt omnes. Ad ectypa monumentorum a se confecta edidit.
Commentationes. Lps._ 1841. 8. _Tabulae ibid. eod._ gr. Fol.
XXIX. _Über die Tyrrhenischen Pelasger in Etrurien und über die
Verbreitung des Italischen Münzsystems von Etrurien aus._ [On the
Tyrrhenian Pelasgians in Etruria, and on the Diffusion of the
Italian System of Coins from Etruria.] _Lpzg._ 1842. 8.
XXX. _Auswahl der wichtigsten Urkunden des ägyptischen Alterthums,
theils zum ersten Male, theils nach den Denkmälern berichtigt,
herausgegeben und erläutert._ [Selection of the Most Important
Records of Egyptian Antiquity, Part of Which are Published and
Explained for the First Time, and Part of Which are Corrected
According to the Monuments.] 23 _Tafeln, Lpzg._ 1842. gr. Fol.
XXXI. _Das Todtenbuch der Aegypter nach dem hieroglyphischen
Papyrus in Turin mit einem Vorwort zum ersten Male herausgegeben._
[The Egyptian Book of the Dead, Published for the First Time
According to the Hieroglyphic Papyrus at Turin; with a Preface.] 79
_Tafeln, Lpzg._ 1842. 4.
XXXII. _Über den Bau der Pyramiden._ [On the Construction of the
Pyramids.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1843. 8.
XXXIII. _Über die Entdeckung des Labyrinths in Aegypten._ [On the
Discovery of the Labyrinth in Egypt.] _Berl Mon.-Ber._ 1843. 8.
XXXIV. _Über einen alten Nilmesser bei Semne in Nubien._ [On an old
Nilometer at Semneh in Nubia.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1844. 8.
XXXV. _Über Sprachen, Denkmäler, Inschriften und Civilisation der
Aethiopier des Alterthums und jetzt._ [On the Language, Monuments,
Inscriptions and Civilization of the Ethiopians of Antiquity and
of the Present Day.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1844. 8.
XXXVI. _Lettera sul suo viaggio in Egitto. Bull. dell’ inst.
archeol. Roma._ 1845. p. 40-44. (Letter from Philae of the
fifteenth of September, 1844.)
XXXVII. On the Nile Alluvium of Nubia. Extract of a Letter from Dr.
Richard Lepsius, Chief of the Prussian Scientific Commission in
Egypt, to Dr. L. G. Morton, relative to the Language of the
Bishareens of Nubia, and the Alluvial Deposits of the Nile. With an
Analysis of those Deposits by Prof. W. R. Johnson: in “Proceedings
of the Academy of National Sciences of Philadelphia,” Jan. 21.
1845. 8.
XXXVIII. _Reise von Theben nach der Halbinsel des Sinai vom 4 März
bis 14 April, 1845._ [Journey from Thebes to the Peninsula of
Sinai, from the fourth of March to the fourteenth of April, 1845.]
Mit Tafeln. Berl. 1845. 8. Out of Print.
XXXIX. English Translation of No. XXXVIII. by Cottrell. London,
1846.
XL. General Map of the Peninsula of Sinai. 1845.
XLI. Special Map of the Ruins of the Monastery and City of Farân.
1845.
XLII. _Über das Felsenrelief zu Karabél._ [On the Relief upon the
Rock at Karabél.] _Archäologische Zeitung IV._ 1846. p. 271-280.
XLIIa. _Über einige syntaktische Punkte der Hieroglyphischen
Sprache._ [On some Points in the Syntax of the Hieroglyphic
Language.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1846.
XLIII. _Voyage dans la Presqu’ île du Sinai, etc. Lu à la société
de Géographie, séances du 21 Avril et du 21 Mai. Extrait du
Bulletin de la soc. de géogr. Juin._ 1847. Paris. 8.
XLIV. _Mittheilung über die Republication des durch den Stein von
Rosette bekannten Priesterdekrets._ [Communication regarding the
Republication of the Ecclesiastical Decree promulgated on the
Rosetta Stone.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1847. 8.
XLIVa. _Über die in Philae aufgefundene Republication des Dekretes
von Rosette und die ägyptischen Forschungen des H. de Saulcy._ [On
the Republication of the Decree of Rosetta Discovered at Philae,
and the Egyptian Researches of H. de Saulcy.] _Ztschr. d. Deutsch.
Morgenländ. Gesellschaft._ Leipzig. 1847. B. 1. S. 264-320.
XLIVb. _Lettre de M. le Dr. R. Lepsius à M. Letronne sur le décret
bilingue de Philes dans son rapport avec le décret de Rosette et
sur l’opinion de M. de Saulcy. Revue archéologique._ 15. _Avr._
1847. _Année_ IV.
XLV. _Denkmäler aus Aegypten und Aethiopien_ (_nach den Zeichnungen
der von Sr. Maj. gesendeten Expedition ... herausgegeben und
erläutert._) [Monuments of Egypt and Ethiopia, Published and
Illustrated after the Drawings made by the Expedition despatched by
His Majesty.] 6 _Abtheil._ (894 Blatt.) Berlin. 1849-59. fol. max.
XLVI. _Die Chronologie der Aegypter. Einleitung und Theil 1: Kritik
der Quellen._ [The Chronology of the Egyptians. Introduction and
Part 1: Criticism of Authorities.] Berlin, London, Paris. 1849. 4.
XLVII. _Über den ersten ägyptischen Götterkreis und seine
geschichtlich-mythologische Entstehung._ [On the First Egyptian
Pantheon and its Historical-Mythological Origin.] _Mit 4 Tafeln._
Berlin. _Abhdlg. d. Akad._ 1851. 4. _Als Buch bei W. Hertz, Berl._
1851.
XLVIII. _Briefe aus Aegypten, Aethiopien und der Halbinsel des
Sinai, geschrieben, 1842-1845._ [Letters from Egypt, Ethiopia and
the Peninsula of Sinai, written from 1842 to 1845.] _Mit 2 Tafeln
und 1 Karte._ Berlin. 1852. 8.
XLIX. _Über die 12. ägyptische Königsdynastie._ [On the Twelfth
Egyptian Royal Dynasty.] _Mit 3 Tafeln. Berl. Akad. Abhdlg._ 1852.
4. _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 5 Jan. 1852.
L. _Über einige Ergebnisse der ägyptischen Denkmäler für die
Kenntnis der Ptolemäergeschichte._ [On some Additions to our
Knowledge of the History of the Ptolemies derived from the Egyptian
Monuments.] _Berl. Akad. Abhdlg._ 1852. 4.
LI. _Bemerkungen zu dem Reisebericht von Brugsch mit Bezug auf das
Verhältnis der neu gefundenen Apisdaten zu einer 25 jährigen
Apisperiode._ [Observations on the Report of the Journey of
Brugsch, with Reference to the Relation of the Apis Date Lately
Discovered to an Apis Period of 25 years.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1853.
8.
LIa. _Über den Apiskreis._ [On the Cycle of Apis.] _Ztschr. d.
Deutschen morgenl. Gesellsch._ 1853. Bd. VII. S. 417-436.
LII. _Über den chronologischen Werth einiger astronomischen Angaben
auf ägyptischen Denkmälern._ [On the Chronological Value of some
Astronomical Designs on Egyptian Monuments.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._
1854. 8.
LIII. _Folgerungen aus Mariette’s Mittheilungen für die Chronologie
der 26. manethonishen Dynastie und die Eroberung Aegyptens durch
Cambyses._ [Inferences from the Communications of Mariette,
regarding the Chronology of the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty of Manetho,
and the Conquest of Egypt by Cambyses.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1854. 8.
LIV. _Über eine hieroglyphische Inschrift am Tempel von Edfu_
(_Apollinopolis Magna._) [On a hieroglyphic Inscription on the
Temple of Edfu; Apollinopolis Magna.] _Mit. 6 Tafeln, Berl. Ak.
Abhdlg._ 1854. 4. _Bei Dümmler in Berl._ 1855.
LIVa. _Die ägyptischen Felsentafeln vom Nahr el-Kelb in Syrien._
[The Egyptian Stone Tablets from Nahr el-Kelb in Syria.] _Berl.
Mon.-Ber. Juni_ 1854. 8.
LIVb. _Der Artikel “Aegypten” in Hertzog’s Real Encyclopädie für
Theologie und Kirche_, (1854.) [The Article “Egypt” in Hertzog’s
Technical Encyclopedia of Theology and the Church, 1854] Bd. 1. S.
166-178.
LV. _Königliche Museen. Abtheilung der Aegyptischen Alterthümer.
Die Wandgemälde. 37 Tafeln Nebst Erklärung von R. Lepsius._ [Royal
Museum. Department of Egyptian Antiquities. The Mural Paintings. 37
Plates with an Exposition by R. Lepsius.] _Berl._ 1855. 2. _Aufl._
1870. _Fol._ 3. _Aufl._ 1882. _Quer._ 4.
LVI. _Beschreibung der Wandgemälde in der ägyptischen Abtheilung.
Herausgegeben von der Generalverwaltung._ [Description of the Mural
Paintings in the Egyptian Department. Published by the General
Management.] _Berl._ 1855. 4. _Aufl._ 1879. 8. (No. LV. without
Illustrations.)
LVII. _Königliche Museen. Verzeichnis der ägyptischen Alterthümer
und Gipsabgüsse von R. Lepsius. Herausgegeben von der
Generalverwaltung._ [Royal Museum. List of the Egyptian Antiquities
and Plaster Casts by R. Lepsius. Published by the General
Management.] _Berl._ 1871. 4 _Aufl._ 1879. 5 _Aufl._ 1882. 8.
LVIII. _Über eine hieroglyphische Inschr. am Tempel von Edfu
(Appollinopolis Magna) in welcher der Besitz des Tempels an
Ländereien (13209-1/16 Schoinia) unter der Regierung Ptolemaeus XI.
Alexander I. verzeichnet ist._ [On a Hieroglyphic Inscription on
the Temple of Edfu (Apollinopolis Magna) in which are Recorded the
Possessions of the Temple in Landed Property (13209-1/16 Schoinia)
under the Reign of Ptolemy XI., Alexander I.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 15
_März_, 1855. 8.
LVIIIa. _Über den Namen der Ionier auf den ägyptischen Denkmälern._
[On the Names of the Ionians upon the Egyptian Monuments.] _Berl.
Mon.-Ber. Juli_ 1885. 8.
LIX. _Das allgemeine linguistische Alphabet. Grundsätze der
Übertragung fremder Schriftsysteme und bisher noch ungeschriebener
Sprachen in europäische Buchstaben._ _Berl._ 1855. 8. _S. a. den
Bericht über das allgemeine linguistische Alphabet. Berl.
Mon.-Ber._ 15. _Febr. u._ 20. _December 1885._ (_Typenguss und
fortschreitende Verbreitung des linguistischen Alphabets_). [The
Universal Linguistic Alphabet. Principles of the Translation of
Foreign Graphic Systems and Languages Hitherto Unwritten into
European Alphabetic Characters. Berl. 1855. 8. See also the Report
on the Universal Linguistic Alphabet. Berl. Mon.-Ber. February 15,
and Dec. 20, 1855.] (Casting of the Type and Increasing Diffusion
of the Linguistic Alphabet.)
LX. _Über die 22. ägyptische Königsdynastie nebst einigen
Bemerkungen zu der 26. und andern Dynastieen des neuen Reichs._
[On the Twenty-Second Egyptian Royal Dynasty, with Some Remarks on
the Twenty-Sixth and Other Dynasties of the New Kingdom.] _Mit 2
Tafeln, Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._ 1856. 4. _Dazu LXIa._
LXa. No. LX Translated into English by Bell.
LXI. _Über die Götter der vier Elemente bei den Aegyptern._ [On the
Gods of the Four Elements Among the Egyptians.] _Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._
1856. 4. Published as a Book by Dümmler, Berl. 1856.
LXIa. _Über die XXII. Königs-Dynastie der Aegypter. Mit Bemerkungen
über die XXI., XXIII. und XXVI. Dynastie._ [On the Twenty-Second
Royal Dynasty of the Egyptians. With Remarks on the Twenty-First,
Twenty-Third and Twenty-Sixth Dynasty.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber. Juni_
1856. 8. (LX.)
LXII. _Über einen falschen Palimpsest._ [On a Spurious Palimpsest.]
_Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1856. 8.
LXIII. _Über den falschen Uranios des Simonides._ [On the Spurious
Uranios of Simonides.] _Allgemeine Augsburger Zeitung vom 11. Febr.
1856. Nr. 42, Vossische Zeitung vom 8. Febr. 1856. Deutsche allg.
Zeitung vom 10. Febr. 1856._
LXIIIa. _Entgegnung auf die Winne’sche Abhandlung über die
chinesische Sprache._ [Reply to the Dissertation of Winne on the
Chinese Language.] _Berl._ 20. _Mai._ 1856.
LXIV. _Über die manethonische Bestimmung des Umfangs der
ägyptischen Geschichte._ [On the Limits set by Manetho to the
Compass of Egyptian History.] _Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._ 1857. 4. (_Dazu
Berl. Mon.-Ber. Aug. 1857_).
LXIVa. _Über die 26. ägyptische Königsdynastie und die Eroberung
Aegyptens durch Kambyses._ [On the Twenty-Sixth Royal Dynasty of
Egypt and the Conquest of Egypt by Cambyses.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._
1857. 8.
LXV. _Über mehrere chronologische Punkte, die mit der Einführung
des julianischen und alexandrinischen Kalenders zusammenhängen._
[On Certain Chronological Points Connected with the Introduction of
the Julian and Alexandrian Calendars.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber. 11. Nov.
1858._ 8.
LXVa. Letter to Dr. Bell, “In Reply to the Strictures Contained in
H. von Gumpach’s Papers on the Reign of Menes.” Transactions of the
Roy. Soc. etc. 1858.
LXVI. _Königsbuch der alten Aegypter. Abthlg. I. 169. S. Text und
23 synoptische Tafeln der ägyptischen Dynastien. Abthl. II: 73
hieroglyphische Tafeln mit 987 Königschildern._ [Book of the Kings
of Ancient Egypt. Part I, 169. See Text and 23 Synoptic Tables of
the Egyptian Dynasties. Part II, 73 Hieroglyphic Tablets with 987
Cartouches of Kings.] _Berl. 1858. kl. Folio._
LXVIa. _Über einige Punkte der Herodotischen Chronologie._ [On Some
Points in the Chronology of Herodotus. An Unpublished Lecture.]
_Angekündigt i. d. Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1858. 8. _Nicht zur
Veröffentlichtung gelangter Vortrag._
LXVII. _Über einige Berührungspunkte der ägyptischen, griechischen
und römischen Chronologie._ [On Some Points of Contact in the
Egyptian, Grecian and Roman Chronology.] _Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._ 1859.
4. (_Dazu: Berl. Mon.-Ber. Aug. 1858._ 8.)
LXVIIa. _Mittheilungen 1. über Einführung des Alexandrinischen
Kalenders unter Augustus_, 2. _über Wiederherstellung des zur Zeit
der Ptolemäer aufgestellten Dionysischen Kalenders_, 3.
_Wiederherstellung des Eudoxischen Kalenders u. s. w._ 4.
_Wiederherstellung der Parapegmen der Aegypter, des Demokrit u. s.
w._ 5. _Über die Jahres-und Tagesbestimmung der Eroberung Trojas u.
s. w._ [Communications: 1, On the Introduction of the Alexandrian
Calendar under Augustus; 2. On the Restoration of the Dionysian
Calendar Adopted in the Time of the Ptolemies; 3. Restoration of
the Eudoxian Calendar, etc.; 4. Restoration of the Parapegmen of
the Egyptians, of Democritus, etc.; 5, On Fixing the Year and Day
of the Conquest of Troy, etc.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 10. _Febr._ 1859.
LXVIIb. _Anzeige der Übergabe der 15 letzten Lieferungen des
ägyptischen Denkmälerwerkes, welches die Akademie von Sr. Maj. dem
Könige zum Geschenk erhalten hatte._ [Announcement of the Delivery
of the Last Fifteen Numbers of the Work on Egyptian Monuments,
which the Academy had Received as a Gift from His Majesty the
King.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 3. _Nov._ 1859.
LXVIII. _Über die Umschrift und Lautverhältnisse einiger
hinterasiatischer Sprachen, namentlich des Chinesischen und des
Tibetischen._ [On the Transcription and Relations of the Sounds of
Some Remote Asiatic Languages, Especially of the Chinese and the
Tibetan.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 16. _Febr. und_ 5. _März_ 1860. 8. _Ak.
Abhdlg._ 1860. 4.
LXIX. _Ingīl Jesū mesīhni-lin, Margosin fāisīn nagittā._ [The
Gospel According to St. Mark] Translated into the Nubian Language,
1860. 8.
LXX. _Über die arabischen Sprachlaute und deren Umschrift nebst
einigen Erläuterungen über den harten [Illustration: symbol]--Vokal
in der tartarischen, slavischen und der rumänischen Sprache._ [On
the Sounds of the Arabian Spoken Language, and Methods of Writing
Them, With Some Comments on the Hard Vowel [Illustration: symbol]
in the Tartar, Slavonic and Roumanian Languages.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._
2. _Mai 1861._ 8. _Ak. Abhdlg._ 1861. 4.
LXXI. _Das ursprüngliche Zendalphabet._ [The Original Zend
Alphabet.] _Mit_ 3 _Tafeln. Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 31. _März 1862._ 8.
_Berl. Abhdlg._ 1862. 4.
LXXIa. Was not Published, and is therefore indexed without title.
LXXII. _Litterae gutturales und Literae faucalest. Zeitschrift für
vergleichende Sprachforschung von Kuhn._ 1862. _XI. p._ 442. _ff._
LXXIII. _Über das Lautsystem der Persischen Keilschrift._ [On the
System of Sounds of the Persian Cuneiform Writing.] _Berl.
Mon.-Ber._ 3. _Apr. 1862._ 8. _Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._ 1862. 4.
LXXIV. Standard Alphabet for Reducing Unwritten Languages and
Foreign Graphic Systems to a Uniform Orthography in European
Letters. Second Edition. London and Berlin. 1863. 8. (The first
edition is the work published in 1855 in German on “The Universal
Linguistic Alphabet.” See No. LIX.[106])
LXXV. _Über den Umfang und die Verschiedenheit der menschlichen
Sprachlaute._ [On the Compass and Differences of the Sounds in
Human Speech.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 1863. 8.
LXXVI. _Mittheilung über eine von H. Dümichen zu Abydos
neuentdeckte Königsliste._ [Communication Concerning a List of
Kings Lately Discovered at Abydos by H. Dümichen.] _Berl.
Mon.-Ber._ 27. _Oct._ 1864. 8.
LXXVII. _Die Sethostafel von Abydos._ [The Tablet of Sethos from
Abydos.] _Zeitschr. für ägyptische Sprache und Alterthumskunde._
1864. _S._ 81.
LXXVIII. _Texte des Todtenbuches a. d. alten Reiche._ [Text of the
Book of the Dead of the Old Kingdom.] _Zeitsch. f. äg. Spr. u. A._
1864. _S._ 83.
LXXIX. _Die altägyptische Elle und ihre Eintheilung._ [The Old
Egyptian Ell and its Subdivisions.] _Mit 4 Tafeln. Berl. Ak.
Abhdlg._ 1865. 4. _Als Buch bei Dümmler. Berl._ 1865. 4.
LXXX. _Über “rechts” und “links” im Hieroglyphischen._ [On “Right”
and “Left” in the Hieroglyphic Language.] _Zeitsch. f. äg. Spr. u.
A._ 1865. _S._ 12.
LXXXI. Supplement to the Same. _Ibid._ 1865. _S._ 22.
LXXXII. _Über die mit den Nomenlisten verbundenen geographischen
Nomenreihen._ [On the Geographical Series of Nomes, Connected with
the Lists of Nomes.] _Ibid._ 1865. _S._ 38.
LXXXIII. _Über die Zeichen_ [Illustration: symbol], [Illustration:
symbol] _und_ [Illustration: symbol] _in den topographischen
Listen_. [On the Signs [Illustration: symbol], [Illustration:
symbol] and [Illustration: symbol] in the Topographical Lists.]
_Ibid._ 1865. _S._ 60.
LXXXIV. _Über die hieroglyphische Gruppe_ [Illustration: symbol]
_als Orgyia von 4 Ellen oder 6 Fuss_. [On the Hieroglyphic Group
[Illustration: symbol] as an Orgyia of Four Ells or Six Feet.]
_Ibid._ 1865. _S._ 101.
LXXXV. _Die Regel in den hieroglyphischen Bruchbezeichnungen._ [The
Rule of the Hieroglyphic Fractional Reckoning.] _Ibid._ 1865. _S._
101.
LXXXVI. _Al Fondatore dell’ Instituto archeologico in Roma Odoardo
Gerhard nel cinquantesimo anno della sua laurea dottorale._
(Introduction to the “Nuove memorie dell’ inst. archeol.”)_Berl._
1865. Drawn up by Lepsius, in the Name of the Institute and the
Central Board of Directors, (Abeken, Lepsius, Mommsen, Haupt, Duc
de Luynes, Welcker, Kircher, Meineke and De Witte.)
LXXXVII. _Das bilingue Dekret von Kanopus in der Originalgrösse mit
Übersetzung beider Texte._ [The Original Decree of Canopus in the
Original Size, with a Translation of Both Texts.] _Thl. 1 mit 8
Tafeln. Berlin._ 1866. _fol._
LXXXVIII. _Reisebericht aus Aegypten._ [Report from Egypt on the
Journey.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 17. _Mai_ 1866. 8.
LXXXIX. _Entdeckung eines bilinguen Dekretes._ [Discovery of a
Bilingual Decree.] _Ztschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1866. _S._ 29.
XC. _Das Dekret von Kanopus. Erklärung._ [The Decree of Canopus,
Explanation.] _Ibid._ 1866. _S._ 49.
XCI. _Über die Umschrift des Hieroglyphischen._ [On the
Transcription of the Hieroglyphic Writing.] _Ibid._ 1866. _S._ 73.
XCII. _Über den Obelisk in der Münchener Glyptothek._ [On the
Obelisk in the Munich Glyptotheca.] _Ibid._ 1866. _S._ 95.
XCIII. _Zusatz über denselben._ [Supplement to the Last.] _Ibid._
1867. _S._ 20.
XCIV. _Recension über “G. F. Unger, Chronologie des Manetho.”_
[Review of “G. F. Unger, On the Chronology of Manetho.”]
_Literarisches Centralblatt von Zarncke._ 1867. _S._ 1121.
XCV. _Älteste Texte des Todtenbuchs nach Sarkophagen des
altägyptischen Reichs im Berliner Museum._ [The Oldest Text of the
Book of the Dead, According to Sarcophagi of the Old Egyptian
Kingdom in the Berlin Museum.] _Berl._ 1867. _Fol._
XCVI. _Zu dem Artikel des Herrn Baillet (de la transcription des
hiéroglyphes.)_ [Regarding the Article of M. Baillet, “_de la
transcription des hiéroglyphes_.” _Ztschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1867.
_S._ 70.
XCVII. _Über den chronologischen Werth der assyrischen Eponymen und
einige Berührungspunkte mit der ägyptishen Chronologie._ [On the
Chronological Value of the Assyrian Eponyms and Some Points Which
They Have in Common with the Egyptian Chronology.] _Berl. Ak.
Abhdlg._ 1868. 4.
XCVIII. _Über die Anwendung des lateinischen Universal Alphabets
auf den chinesischen Dialekt von Canton und über die Berufung
auswärtiger Gelehrter an eine in Peking zu gründende kaiserliche
Lehranstalt._ [On the Application of the Latin Universal Alphabet
to the Chinese Dialect of Canton, and On the Appointment of Foreign
Scholars in an Imperial Institute of Learning to be Founded at
Peking.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 5. _März_ 1868. 8.
XCIX. _Das Sothisdatum im Dekret von Kanopus._ [The Sothis Date in
the Decree of Canopus.] _Ztschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1868. _S._ 36.
C. _Über eine zu Pompeji gefundene hieroglyphische Inschrift._ [On
a Hieroglyphic Inscription Found at Pompeii.] _Ibid._ 1868. _S._
85.
CI. _Nachtrag zu dem Artikel von Brugsch: Über die vier Elemente._
[Supplement to the Article by Brugsch “On the Four Elements.”]
_Ibid._ 1868. _S._ 127.
CII. _Grundplan des Grabes König Ramses’ IV. in einem Turiner
Papyrus._ [Ground plan of the Grave of King Ramses IV. in a Turin
Papyrus.] _Mit 1 Tafel. Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._ 1869. 4.
CIII. _Die Kalenderreform im Dekret von Kanopus._ [The Reform of
the Calendar in the Decree of Canopus.] _Zeitschr. f. äg. Spr. u.
A._ 1869. _S._ 77.
CIV. _Der letzte Kaiser in den hieroglyphischen Inschriften._ [The
Last Emperor in the Hieroglyphic Inscriptions.] _Ibid._ 1870. _S._
25.
CV. _Über die Annahme eines sogenannten prähistorischen Steinalters
in Aegypten._ [On Admitting a So-called Prehistoric Age of Stone in
Egypt.] _Ibid._ 1870. _S._ 89 _u._ 113.
CVI. _Über die Papyrusinschrift mit dem doppelten Kalender._ [On
the Papyrus Inscription with the Double Calendar.] _Ibid._ 1870.
_S._ 167.
CVII. _Die Metalle in den ägyptischen Inschriften._ [The Metals in
the Egyptian Inscriptions.] _Mit 2 Tafeln. Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._ 1871.
4.
CVIII. _Über einige ägyptische Kunstformen und ihre Entwickelung._
[On Some Egyptian Forms of Art and Their Development.] _Berl. Ak.
Abhdlg._ 1871. 4.
CVIIIa. _Über die äthiopischen Sprachen und Völker zwischen
Aegypten, Abyssinien und den Ländern der Negervölker._ [On the
Ethiopian Languages and Peoples between Egypt, Abyssinia and the
Lands of the Negro Races.] _Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._ 1872. 4.
CIX. _Des Sesostris Herakles Körperlänge._ [The Length of the Body
of the Sesostris Herakles.] _Ztschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1871. _S._
52.
CX. _Der Bogen in der Hieroglyphik._ [The Arch in Hieroglyphics.]
_ibid._ 1872. _S._ 79.
CXI. _Kupfer und Eisen._ [Copper and Iron.] _ibid._ 1872. _S._ 113.
CXII. Exhibition of Portraits of Deceased Scholars and Artists of
Berlin. Catalogue, 1873, 8. This Exhibition was Opened from the
Twenty-first to the Thirtieth of March, 1873, to Aid in Purchasing
a Lodging House for Students.
CXIII. Royal Library. An Exhibition of all Writings and Pictures
Relating to the War of 1870-1871. 1873, 8. Open from the Ninth of
October till the Second of November, 1873, in the Central Hall of
the Royal Library.
CXIV. _Vicomte E. de Rougé. Zeitschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1873. _S._
23.
CXV. _Hieroglyphische Inschriften in den Oasen von Xārigeh und
Dāχileh._ [Hieroglyphic Inscriptions in the Oases of Xārigeh und
Dāχileh.] _ibid._ 1874. _S._ 73.
CXVI. _Trinuthis und die ägyptischen Oasen._ [Trinuthis and the
Egyptian Oases.] _ibid._ 1874. _S._ 80.
CXVII. _Die Inschrift des nubischen Königs Silko._ [The Inscription
of the Nubian King Silko.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 5. _Apr._ 1875. 8.
CXVIIa. _Die griechische Inschrift des nubischen Königs Silko._
[The Grecian Inscription of the Nubian King Silko.] _Hermes._
1875. _Bd. X. S._ 129-144.
CXVIII. _Liste der hieroglyphischen Typen des Herrn F. Theinhardt._
[List of the Hieroglyphic Types of Mr. F. Theinhardt.] _Berlin._
1875. _kl. Fol. Auch als Beilage zu der Zeitschr. f. äg. Spr. u.
A._ 1875.
CXIX. _Vom internationalen Orientalisten-Congress in London._ [Of
the International Congress of Orientalists in London.] _Ztschr. f.
äg. Spr. u. A._ 1875. _S._ 1.
CXX. _Über den Kalender des Papyrus Ebers und die Geschichtlichkeit
der ältesten Nachrichten._ [On the Calendar of the Ebers Papyrus,
and the Historical Value of the Oldest Accounts.] _ibid._ 1875.
_S._ 145.
CXXI. _Recension über die von G. Ebers besorgte Publication des
Papyrus Ebers._ [Review of the Edition of the Ebers Papyrus made
under the supervision of G. Ebers.] _Literarisches Centralblatt v.
Zarncke._ 1875. _S._ 1582 _ff._
CXXII. _Aufforderung (zu Mittheilungen von Seiten derjenigen
kleineren Museen oder Privatsammlungen, welche sich im Besitz von
Todtenpapyrus befinden, über dieselben.)_ [Invitation for
Communications, From Such Smaller Museums or Private Collections as
are in Possession of Funereal Papyri, Concerning the Same.]
_Ztschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1876. _S._ 48.
CXXIII. _Les métaux dans les inscriptions égyptiennes. Traduit par
W. Berend. Avec des additions de l’auteur. Avec 2 planches. Paris._
1877. 4.
CXXIV. _Die babylonisch-assyrischen Längenmasse nach der Tafel von
Senkereh._ [The Babylonian-Assyrian Linear Measure According to the
Tablet of Senkereh.] _Mit 1 Tafel. Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._ 1877. 4.
CXXV. _Das Stadium und die Gradmessung des Eratosthenes auf
Grundlage der ägyptischen Masse._ [The Stadium and the Measure of
Degrees of Eratosthenes on the Basis of the Egyptian Measures.]
_Zeitschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1877. _S._ 3.
CXXVI. _Über die widderköpfigen Götter Ammon u. Chnumis, in
Beziehung auf die Ammonsoase und die gehörnten Köpfe auf
griechischen Münzen._ [On the Ram-headed Gods, Ammon and Chnumis,
in Connection with the Oasis of Ammon and the Horned Heads on Greek
Coins.] _ibid._ 1878. _S._ 8.
CXXVII. _Die babylonisch-assyrische Längenmass-Tafel von Senkereh._
[The Babylonian-Assyrian Tablet of Linear Measure from Senkereh.]
_ibid._ 1877. _S._ 49.
CXXVIII. _Eine ägyptisch-aramäische Stele._ [An Egyptian-Aramaic
Stela.] _ibid._ 1877. _S._ 127.
CXXIX. _Weitere Erörterungen über das babylonisch-assyrische
Längenmasssystem._ [Farther Discussions of the Babylonian-Assyrian
System of Linear Measure.] _Berl. Mon.-Ber._ 6. _Dec._ 1877 _und_
4. _Febr._ 1878. 8.
CXXIXa. _Über die Sprachgruppen der afrikanischen Völker._ [On the
Groups of Languages of the African Tribes.] _Berl. Ak. Abhdlg._
1879. 4.
CXXX. _Nubische Grammatik mit einer Einleitung über die Völker und
Sprachen Afrikas._ [Nubian Grammar, with an Introduction on the
Tribes and Languages of Africa.] _Berl._ 1880. 8.
CXXXI. _Über die Wiedereröffnung zweier ägyptischer Pyramiden nach
Mittheilungen von Prof. Brugsch._ [On the Reopening of Two Egyptian
Pyramids, According to Communications from Professor Brugsch.]
_Berl. Sitzungs-Ber._ 1881. 8.
CXXXII. _Bericht über den Fortgang der von E. Naville unternommenen
Herausgabe des Thebanischen Todtenbuchs._ [Report on the Progress
of the Edition of the Theban Book of the Dead, Undertaken by E.
Naville.] _Berl. Sitzungs-Ber._ 1881. 8.
CXXXIII. _Bemerkung (zu den neu geöffneten Pyramiden von Saqqara.)_
[Observations on the Pyramids of Saccarah Recently Opened.]
_Ztschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1881. _S._ 15.
CXXXIV. _Die XXI. Manethonische Dynastie._ [The XXI Dynasty of
Manetho.] _Ztschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1882. _S._ 103 _u._ 151.
CXXXV. _Eine Sphinx._ [A Sphinx.] _ibid._ 1882. _S._ 117.
CXXXVI. _“Die ägyptische Längenmasse” von Dörpfeld beleuchtet von
R. Lepsius._ [“The Egyptian Linear Measures” of Dörpfeld, Examined
by R. Lepsius.] _Aus den Mittheilungen des archäologischen
Instituts zu Athen._ 1883. _VIII. S._ 227-245. 8.
(_Dörpfeld’s Abhandlung, gegen welche diese Streitschrift sich
richtet, ibid. S. 36 ff._)
CXXXVII. _Die Längenmasse der Alten._ [The Linear Measures of the
Ancients.] _Berl. Sitzungs-Ber._ 1883. 8.
CXXXVIII. _Über die Lage von Pithom (Succoth) u. Raëmses (Heroonpolis.)_
[On the site of Pithom (Succoth) and Raëmses (Heroonpolis).] _Ztschr. f.
äg. Spr. u. A._ 1883. _S._ 41.
CXXXIX. _Über die Masse im Felsengrabe Ramses’ IV._ [On the Measures in
the Rock Tomb of Ramses IV.] _Ztschr. f. äg. Spr. u. A._ 1884. _S._ 1.
CXL. _Über die 6 palmige grosse Elle von 7 kleinen Palmen-Länge, in dem
“Mathematischen Handbuche” von Eisenlohr._ [On the Great Ell of Six
Palms, the Length of Seven Small Palms, in the “Mathematical Handbook”
of Eisenlohr.] _ibid._ 1884. _S._ 6.
CXLI. _Die Längenmasse der Alten._ [The Linear Measures of the
Ancients.] _Berlin. W. Hertz._ 1884.
CXLII. _Der Artikel “Aegypten” in Brockhaus’ Conversations-Lexicon._
[The Article “Egypt” in the “Conversations-Lexicon” of Brockhaus.
THE END.
* * * * *
=THE BRIDE OF THE NILE=, A ROMANCE, BY =Georg Ebers=, from the German
by CLARA BELL. _Authorized edition_, in two volumes. Price, paper
covers, $1.00, cloth binding, $1.75 per set.
“This romance has much value, apart from its interest as a narrative.
The learned author, who has made the Land of the Nile an object of
special study and research, throws a clear, steady light on one of those
complicated periods of history when nationality seems submerged in the
conflicting interests of sects and factions. The history of Egypt
towards the middle of the seventh century, A.D., forms a sort of
historical whirlpool. The tide of Moslem invasion and the
counter-current of patriotism were temporarily swayed by the
intermingling currents of sectarianism, ecclesiasticism and individual
self-interest.
“All the leading characters are typical of these contending forces, and
also display an unreasoning impulsiveness in both love and hatred,
characteristic of a tropical clime.
“The Egyptian heathen, the Egyptian Christian, the Greek Christian, the
Moslem and Ethiopian show the feelings peculiar to their political
conditions by word and act, thus making their relationship to one
another very distinct, and though not an historical study, at least a
study of the probabilities of that epoch. It is also a reliable picture
of the manners, customs and civilization of a period less generally
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building of the pyramids, and of the Pharoahs.
“The portrayal of individual character and arrangement of incidents are
necessarily secondary to the higher aims of this entertaining and
instructive romance. It is only towards the end of the second volume
that the significance of the title becomes apparent. The ‘Bride’ was a
Greek Christian doomed by the superstitious authorities to be drowned in
the Nile as a sacrifice to appease the anger of the creative powers,
supposed to be withholding the usual overflow of its waters. She escaped
her watery fate, and her rival, an unprincipled heiress, became a
voluntary sacrifice through vanity and despair. This author has already
won much renown by previous romances founded on interesting epochs of
Egyptian history.”--_Daily Alta, California._
_William S. Gottsberger, Publisher, New York._
=WAR AND PEACE.= A Historical Novel, by Count Léon Tolstoï,
translated into French by a Russian Lady and from the French by
Clara Bell. _Authorized Edition._ Complete, Three Parts in Box.
Paper, $3.00. Cloth, $5.25.
=Part I. Before Tilsit=, 1805-1807, in two volumes. Paper, $1.00.
Cloth, $1.75 per set.
=” II. The Invasion=, 1807-1812, in two volumes. Paper, $1.00. Cloth,
$1.75 per set.
=” III. Borodino, The French at Moscow--Epilogue=, 1812-1820, in two
volumes. Paper, $1.00. Cloth, $1.75 per set.
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.
“A story of Russia in the time of Napoleon’s wars. It is a story of the
family rather than of the field, and is charming in its delineations of
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* * * * *
“The story of ‘War and Peace’ ranks as the greatest of Slavic historical
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* * * * *
“War and Peace is a historical novel and is extremely interesting, not
only in its description of the times of the great invasion eighty years
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* * * * *
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story one of the most fascinating and absorbing.”--_Boston Evening
Traveller._
_Wm. S. Gottsberger, Publisher, New York._
KATIA
BY
COUNT LÉON TOLSTOÏ
_TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH_
--AUTHORIZED EDITION--
“It is hard to understand some judgments that have been passed on Count
Tolstoï’s ‘Katia,’ recently done into English, to the effect that it is
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living in discovered countries.”--_The Boston Post._
Price, Paper Cover, 25 cts. Cloth Binding, 50 cts.
WHAT I BELIEVE
BY
COUNT LÉON TOLSTOÏ
_TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN_
BY
CONSTANTINE POPOFF
Price, Paper cover, 60 cts. Cloth binding, $1.00.
_Wm. S. Gottsberger, Publisher, New York._
=THE MARTYR OF GOLGOTHA=, by =Enrique Perez. Escrich=, from the Spanish
by Adèle Josephine Godoy, in two volumes. Price, paper covers,
$1.00. Cloth binding, $1.75.
“There must always be some difference of opinion concerning the right of
the romancer to treat of sacred events and to introduce sacred
personages into his story. Some hold that any attempt to embody an idea
of our Saviour’s character, experiences, sayings and teachings in the
form of fiction must have the effect of lowering our imaginative ideal,
and rendering trivial and common-place that which in the real Gospel is
spontaneous, inspired and sublime. But to others an historical novel
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vistas of thought, filling out blanks and making clear what had hitherto
been vague and unsatisfactory, quickening insight and sympathy, and
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also a wide survey of the general history of the epoch and shows the
various shaping causes which were influencing the rise and development
of the new religion in Palestine. There is, indeed, an astonishing
vitality and movement throughout the work, and, elaborate though the
plot is, with all varieties and all contrasts of people and conditions,
with constant shiftings of the scene, the story yet moves, and moves the
interest of the reader too, along the rapid current of events towards
the powerful culmination. The writer uses the Catholic traditions, and
in many points interprets the story in a way which differs altogether
from that familiar to Protestants: for example, making Mary Magdalen the
same Mary who was the sister of Lazarus and Martha, and who sat
listening at the Saviour’s feet. But in general, although there is a
free use made of Catholic legends and traditions, their effort is
natural and pleasing. The romance shows a degree of a southern fervor
which is foreign to English habit, but the flowery, poetic
style--although it at first repels the reader--is so individual, so much
a part of the author, that it is soon accepted as the naive expression
of a mind kindled and carried away by its subject. Spanish literature
has of late given us a variety of novels and romances, all of which are
in their way so good that we must believe that there is a new generation
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traditions, and are putting fresh life and energy into works which will
give pleasure to the whole world of readers.”--_Philadelphia American_,
March 5, 1887.
_William S. Gottsberger, Publisher, New York._
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
Vie l’Empereur=>Vie l’Empereur Vive l’Empereur {pg 62}
that Francois Champollion=> that François Champollion {pg 73}
changes by degress=> changes by degrees {pg 10}
degree to degre=> degree to degree {pg 111}
THE PRUSSIAN EXPEDITION TO EGYYT=> THE PRUSSIAN EXPEDITION TO EGYPT {pg
140}
value of his acquistions=> value of his acquisitions {pg 165}
for Ptolemny II=> for Ptolemy II {pg 172}
He first critizes=> He first criticizes {pg 176}
Leipsic, a pahmpsest=> Leipsic, a palimpsest {pg 194}
Revue Egyptilogique=> Revue Égyptilogique {pg 205}
The place which he chosed for=> The place which he chose for {pg 208}
On one occassion=> On one occasion {pg 291}
the adopted danghter=> the adopted daughter {pg 295}
la litérature de l’Égypte=> la littérature de l’Égypte {pg 309}
spite of conntless=> spite of countless {pg 318}
Aethiopien nnd der=> Aethiopien und der {pg 332}
Die ägpptischen Felsentafeln=> Die ägyptischen Felsentafeln {pg 333}
und Literae faucales=> und Litterae faucales {pg 338}
FOOTNOTES:
[1] F. W. Graser, born at Luckau, 1801, studied in Leipsic, 1819-23,
1823 Head Master at the Royal Grammar School at Halle, 1827
Sub-Principal in Naumburg, 1831 Deputy Principal and 1846 Principal at
Guben, 1854 Principal at Torgau, 1863 Deputy Principal at the Abbey
of Our Blessed Lady in Magdeburg, until 1869. Now lives as a private
gentleman in Potsdam. In the Renunciation programme of thirty-seven
doctors of philosophy on the 4th of March, 1824, (De epitritris Doriis
dissertatio). G. Hermann says of him: A Beckio in Seminarium Regium,
a me in Societatem Graecam receptus, utrigue nostrum et propter
studiorum diligentiam, et propter praeclarum ingenium insignemque morum
humanitatem et suavitatem valde probatus est.
[2] In this way the official class, the “chickens,” as the Duke called
them, and the nobility, were driven to revolt. It was these two
classes, and not the populace, who expelled the Duke.
[3] Duke William, of Brunswick, recently deceased.
[4] The following fragment of a popular song gives some information
in regard to this citizen, Götte. It was discovered by my friend,
Professor H. Guthe, who aided me in obtaining farther particulars about
Götte:
POEM ON CITIZEN GÖTTE IN BRUNSWICK.
Hurrah for citizen Götte,
The man of the August gate;
He’s half a Lafayette,
The “Lafa” we abate.
It was he that didn’t tremble,
To the Duke he pushed his way,
And without asking questions,
Told him the truth that day.
The continuation of this folk-song is unknown. “Yette” is supposed
to be equivalent to “Götte,” and it was certainly intended by the
ingenious poet that our “Laffe” (dandy) should be recognized in “Lafa.”
[5] See appendix I.
[6] Dissen died in 1837, after a long and severe illness, at the age of
fifty-three.
[7] When a pupil in the highest class, Richard had travelled on the
Rhine with his father during the vacation, and visited Mainz at the
same time. The charming description of this journey, which in print
would fill quite a little volume, has been preserved in manuscript.
[8] In a letter of Samuel Hirzel’s to Horner, the former gives most
lively expression to his delight in the lectures of G. Hermann, and
afterwards says: “Then he began inveighing against Buttmann without
ceremony.” A. Springer, _The Young Hirzel_, _Leipzig_, 1883. It is well
known what a harsh attack Hermann Boeckh could make in the presence of
his class.
[9] De Tabulis Eugubinis. Dissert. Berolini. 1833. (Index to Works. No.
1.)
[10] Aeschyl. Agam. vs. 357: πολλῶν γὰρ ὲσθλῶν τὴν ὄνησιν είλόμην.
Hermanni interpretationem unam esse rectam. etiamsi librorum lectio
retineatur.
[11] Berlin 1834. Second Edition. Leipsic 1842. (Index to Works. No.
III.)
[12] Died in 1680.
[13] G. Ebers. On the Hieroglyphic System of Writing. Virchow und V.
Holtzendorff’sche Sammlung von wissenschaftlichen Vorträgen. 2. Aufl.
Serie vi., No. 131.
[14] The names of both of these sovereigns were found upon a second
bi-lingual tablet, discovered on the island of Philae.
[15] They were bought by the Paris library for fifty thousand francs.
[16] Lepsius used the Pentateuch, edited by Wilkins, for his first
exercise book.
[17] Published in the first edition, under the supervision of Jomard,
1809-28. The second edition was edited by Pankouke, 1821-29.
[18] In Rosellini’s _I Monumenti dell’ Egitto e della Nubia_. Eight
volumes, with the addition of two folio volumes of colored plates,
published at Pisa in 1832-44. The third folio volume was published
after his death, (1843) in 1844; Champollion’s _Monuments de l’Égypte
et de la Nubie_, four folio volumes, with four hundred and forty
plates, was published in Paris, 1835-47, and Lepsius thus had the use
of the first numbers. Rosellini’s work on monuments, mentioned above,
is divided into historical and private monuments, and those pertaining
to religious worship. Champollion had originally wished to treat of the
former, but, in consequence of his early death, the publication of them
fell to Rosellini. Champollion also saw only the first proofs of his
own work on monuments.
[19] As an example he adduces the scheme:
Hebrew, jam--m--i jam--nu jam--ka
Coptic, jom--i jom--n jom--k
my sea our sea M. thy sea, etc.
[20] On the Order and Relationship of the Semitic, Indian, Ancient
Greek, Ancient Egyptian and Ethiopian Alphabets. Index of Works No. V.
The history of the origin of this treatise is peculiar. At that time
the Leipsic Egyptologist, Seyffarth, who, as we know, had advanced a
system of his own in opposition to that of Champollion, had brought
out a publication which bore the strange title: “Our Alphabet a
Representation of the Zodiac, with the Constellation of the Seven
Planets, etc., etc. Probably according to the Observations of Noah
himself. First Foundation of a True Chronology and History of the
Civilization of All Nations.” Leipsic, 1834.--As this work appeared
to emanate from some other than the critical world in which Lepsius
had become eminent, and as, strange to say, it had found advocates
of repute, the young doctor felt himself bound to refute it duly. So
he wrote a critique of it for the “Berliner Jahrbücher,--partly also
with a view to “presenting himself gradually before the public in
his Coptic costume.” “I do not expect,” he writes, “to demolish the
work--by which no honor could be won,--but to give a true explanation
of our alphabetical system.” As the “Jahrbücher” had meantime made
use of another review, he struck out the portion of the dissertation
which was directed against Seyffarth, from that in which he “built up,”
submitted this latter to the Berlin Academy, and had it printed in
their Transactions.
[21] On the origin and relationship of the numerical words in the
Coptic, Semitic, and Indo-Germanic Languages. Berlin, 1836. Index of
Works, No. VI.
[22] _Biot_, _Recherches sur l’année vague des Égyptiens_, Paris, 1831.
[23] See appendix II.
[24] The three volumes of his “Description of the City of Rome” were
published from 1830-43; his “Basilicas of Christian Rome” in 1843.
[25] _Lettre à M. le Professeur Hippolyte Rosellini sur l’alphabet
hiéroglyphique._ Rome, 1837. Index of Works. No. XIII.
[26] If the Egyptologist Seyffarth, mentioned on page 74, claims the
merit of having first recognized the syllabic symbols as such, in
order afterwards to construct in their favor a perverted system, in
which they play a far more prominent part than belongs to them, it is
true that priority of discovery cannot be denied to him. But Lepsius
immediately accorded to the syllabic symbols their proper place and (as
the whole construction of his system proves), quite independently of
others.
[27] On some Syntactical Points of the Hieroglyphic Language. 1846.
Index of Works, No. XLII a.
[28] London and Berlin. 1863. Index of Works. No. LXXIV., and also Nos.
LIX., LXXV., LXX., LXXI., LXXIa, LXXIII., LXXII., XCI., XCVIII., which
all contain dissertations on language, and chiefly on the alphabet.
[29] The Book of Kings of the Ancient Egyptians. Index of Works. No.
LXVI.
[30] _F. Champollion._ _Panthéon Égyptien. Collection des personnages
mythologiques de l’ancienne Égypte._ Paris, 1826.
[31] Index of Works. No. XXXI.
[32] Index of Works. Nos. CXII and CXXXII.
[33] The oldest texts of the Book of the Dead. Berlin, 1867. Index of
Works, No. XCV.
[34] Berlin, 1851. Index of Works, No. XLVII.
[35] Berlin, 1856. Index of Works, No. LXI.
[36] _Sur l’ordre des colonnes piliers en Égypte, etc._ Index of Works,
No. XIX.
[37] On some Egyptian Forms of Art and their Development. Berlin, 1871.
Index of Works No. CVIII.
[38] Lepsius visited Holland and Leyden once again in 1852.
[39] Index of Works, No. XXVII.
[40] Index of Works, No. XXX.
[41] Index of Works, No. XXVIII.
[42] Index of Works, No. XXIX.
[43] At this time the famous Anastasi papyri were also offered for sale
in Berlin through Lepsius, and for a comparatively low price. Yet at
that time there were no funds forthcoming for their purchase. The same
thing occurred with the beautiful Dorbiney papyrus, which was sent to
Berlin in 1851 to be sold, and was examined by Lepsius. He writes, “I
would not myself consider the two thousand pounds too dear for such a
work of the fourteenth century, which perhaps was put before Moses as a
reading-book. But now they would not give eight hundred thalers for it
here.” Eighty to a hundred pounds were offered to Miss Dorbiney for it
at that time by Olfers; if he had gone a little higher, this treasure
would have come to Berlin, but soon after de Rougé deciphered its
interesting contents, and it then went, if I am rightly informed, for
two thousand pounds, to London.
[44] Unfortunately, a work begun by Lepsius during this period of
waiting was never completed. It was to be called “The Main Outlines
of Hieroglyphics,” and he wrote of it to Bunsen: “In it I must once
again touch briefly on the history of discovery, then on the system of
writing, but more practically than in its historical development. After
this follows my statement regarding consequent transcriptions. These
are in Latin letters, for henceforth I shall use the Coptic letters
for real Coptic words only, and not, as Champollion has done, for
hieroglyphic words, as that only creates confusion. After this comes
a short sketch of the hieroglyphic grammar, and I intend to give a
selection of groups of hieroglyphics, as the foundation of a lexicon;
more to secure for myself the priority of classification than even
remotely to supply the need of a lexicon, which I cannot think of at
present. I mean to bring out the book, as well as the plates, in the
usual octavo form of the Annals.” Written on the 15th of September,
1841.
[45] Erbkam himself afterwards wrote several excellent works, namely:
“Ueber den Gräber und Tempelbau der alten Aegypter” 1852. “Ueber die
Memnoncolosse des Aegyptischen Thebes” 1853. “Ueber alte Aegyptische
Bauwerke.” Ephemerides, Vienna, 1845.
[46] Abeken afterwards published a “_Rapport sur les résultats de
l’expédition Prussienne dans la haute Nubie. Revue archéol. IV._” 1846,
as well as a lecture entitled: “Das Aegyptische Museum.” Berlin, 1856.
[47] Bonomi published the following papers: “On the Site of Memphis.”
Transactions of the Roy. Soc. of Literature. N. S. II. 1847, “Arundale
a. Bonomi. Gallery of Egyptian Antiquities,” London, 1844, and
“Catalogue of the Museum of Hartwell House,” London, 1858. Sharpe and
Bonomi published together the fine “Sarcophagus of Seti I.” London,
1858. We also know of two papers of his on Obelisks in the Transactions
of the Roy. Soc. of Literature, 1841, Vols. I. and II.
[48] Index of Works, No. XLVIII.
[49] Afterwards thoroughly demonstrated. Index of Works, No. XLIX.
[50] Index of Works, No. XXXII.
[51] Index of Works No. XXXIII.
[52] Index of Works. Nos. XLIV., XLIVa, and XLIVb.
[53] Index of Works. No. L.
[54] Index of Works. No. LVIIIa.
[55] Index of Works, Nos. LIV. and LVIII.
[56] Index of Works, No. LXIX.
[57] Index of Works, No. XXXIV.
[58] R. Lepsius. Briefe aus Aegypten und Aethiopien.--Pages 329 to
357 and notes. Also Index of Works, Nos. XXXVIII. and XXXIX. The
biblical-geographical conclusions of Lepsius were controverted by a
certain Kutscheit in a paper as superficial as it was spiteful.
[59] Ebers. Durch Gosen zum Sinai. Aus dem Wanderbuche und der
Bibliothek, 2 Aufl. Leipzig, 1882.
[60] Louis Conrad Bethmann, born at Helmstedt, 1812. He was one of the
collaborators on the “Monumenta Germaniae historica,” etc. Died in 1867
in Wolfenbüttel, where he was librarian.
[61] Index of Works, LIV. a.
[62] See Index of Works. No. XLV.
[63] The comments upon his work on monuments, given in the sessions of
the Berlin Academy of Sciences, only refer to special points.
[64] King in opposition during the period of the supremacy of the
Persian empire over Egypt.
[65] J. Bunsen, Aegyptens Stelle in der Weltgeschichte [Egypt’s Place
in Universal History] Hamburg, 1845. Fortsetzung 1856-57.
[66] A Boeckh, Manetho und die Hundssternperiode. [Manetho and the
Dogstar Period.] Berlin 1845.
[67] See page 83.
[68] Die Chronologie der Aegypter. [The Chronology of the Egyptians.]
Index of Works. No. XLVI.
[69] Index of Works. No. LXVI.
[70] Index of Works, Nos. XLIX., LI., LIa., LII., LIII., LX., LXIa.,
LXIV., LXIVa., LXVIa., LXVII., LXVIIa., LXXVII., XCIV., XCVII., XCIX.,
CIII., CXX., CXXXIV.
[71] This pamphlet, dedicated to the Crown Prince Frederick William,
was published August third, 1880, on the celebration of the fiftieth
anniversary of the founding of the Royal Museum at Berlin.
[72] Index of Works. Nos. LV, and LVI.
[73] Index of Works. No. LVII.
[74] Index of Works, Nos. LXII and LXIII.
[75] F. Ritschl. Aeschylus Perser in Aegypten: ein neues Simonideum.
[Aeschylus’ Persians in Egypt: a new Simonideum.] Rhein. Museum, Bd.
XXVII., page 114-126. F. Ritschl, Opuscula philol. Vol. V., p. 194-210.
[76] Index of Works, No. LXXIX.
[77] Index of Works, Nos. LXXXIV., CII., CXXXVI., CXXXVII., CXXXIX.,
CXL.
[78] Index of Works, Nos. LXXXV.
[79] Index of Works, Nos. CXXIV., CXXVII., CXXIX., CXXXVII.
[80] Index of Works, No. CXXXVII.
[81] Index of Works, No. LXXXVIII.
[82] Index of Works, No. CXXXVIII.
[83] Index of Works, No. LXXXVII.
[84] Dr. Reinisch claimed to have taken part in the discovery of the
exceedingly important decree in question, but unjustly. We refer to the
explanation given by Lepsius. Index of Works, XC.
[85] Recueil de travaux relatifs à la philologie et à l’archéologie
égyptiennes and assyriennes. Paris, Vieweg.
[86] Revue égyptologique publiée sous la direction de H. Brugsch, F.
Chabas, E. Revillout. Paris, Leroux.
[87] Proceedings of the Society of Biblical Archaeology. London.
[88] His work on “The Metals in Egyptian Inscriptions,” mentioned on
page 131, is of special importance, Index of Works, No. CVII.
[89] Index of Works, No. CXXX.
[90] Zeitschr. d. Deutsch. Morgenl. Gesellsch. [Journal of the German
Oriental Society.] Leipzig, 1881, Bd. XXXV., p. 207-218.
[91] Index of Works, Nos. XXXV., CVIIIa., CXXIXa.
[92] Frau Lepsius was the daughter of the celebrated composer, Klein,
and many a friend of music will be glad to hear all that her aunts
in Cologne related to Frau Elizabeth, regarding the early history of
her father, when she visited them at Berlin in 1856. He was the son
of a musician who died suddenly, and left his wife and children, the
youngest only seven months old, without means. At that time Bernard
Klein was twenty-one years old, and immediately announced that he
should support his mother and brothers and sisters by giving music
lessons. He did this faithfully and with serene confidence in better
days to come. The mother always had to care for his clothes, for he
paid no attention to his external appearance. He once visited a friend
who complained that he had no coat. He gave him his own in entire
faith that he had two, but when he got home he found that he had made
a mistake, and must buy himself a new one. As a child he had wished
to become a merchant, and not to learn music, but he was suddenly
seized by a passion for music, and said to his mother: “Now if I had
become a merchant, and were so rich that I could drive four horses, I
would rather be a music teacher.” Not long after his father’s death he
went to Paris with Begas for two years, and there studied music under
Cherubini. In 1818 he went to Berlin. Ten years after, as a famous
composer, he returned to Berlin, to be present at a great musical
festival, at which his “Jephta” was performed with great applause.
[93] Frau von Bunsen, as I see by Hare’s biography, was at that time in
Wildbad and Baden.
[94] Un noser, the good being, the Divinity as the author of all good,
the Greek Agathodemon.
[95] Both daughters are long since married: Anna to Professor
Valentiner, the astronomer, in Carlsruhe, Elizabeth to Pastor Siegel,
who lived first in Tegel, afterwards in Neuenhagen near Berlin.
Richard, the eldest son, is professor of geology and mineralogy at
the Academy of Technology at Darmstadt, and married to the daughter
of Ernest Curtius. Bernard, lecturer on chemistry at the Senkenberg
Institute at Frankfort on the Main, is married to a daughter of
Professor Pauli, the Göttingen historian, since deceased. Reinhold is
a painter. The father had a beautiful studio built in the new house in
Kleist street for his talented son, and Johannes, after first devoting
himself to philosophical studies with the greatest success, has
recently passed his theological examination.
[96] Charles Richard George Lepsius, born on the nineteenth of
September, 1851.
[97] From the pamphlet written by father Lepsius on the occasion of the
baptism of his oldest grandson Richard, entitled: “The ancestors of the
Lepsius Family, Naumburg, 1851,” we see that the family of Lepsius was
originally called Leps, and appears to be indebted for its name to the
little village of Leps, in the Duchy of Anhalt-Dessau, the ancestral
home of the family. It is derived perhaps from the Wendish Lipz, the
linden-tree, which word must also be the root of the name of the city
of Leipsic. The oldest authentic ancestor is the master tawer, George
Leps, at Trebbin in the Mittelmark, who died in 1699. The grandson
of this George was the first who changed the name Leps into Lepsius.
His father, in addition to the tawer’s craft, carried on a trade in
leather and wool, “and was well off, and held in respect and esteem by
his fellow citizens.” At the baptism of his child, as if he designed
him for a scholar, he bestowed upon him the Latin names, Petrus
Christophorus. The latter it was who removed the family to Naumburg,
and as Dr. jur. he was administrator of several courts, provost of the
cathedral, etc. He died in 1793. He, the great grandfather of Richard
Lepsius, like his grandfather and father, was a lawyer.
[98] From the post of ambassador to London.
[99] See page 38.
[100] In “Kurfürst” (Elector) the first syllable means “cure,” and the
second “prince.”--_Trans._
[101] A German expression for housewife.--_Trans._
[102] After Lepsius had made the Egyptian collection in Berlin what
it now is, Humboldt, who was always most warmly interested in the
aspirations of talented young men, attempted to substitute as director
of the Museum, in the place of Lepsius, the young and highly gifted H.
Brugsch, who was at that time an open antagonist of Lepsius.
[103] The bride of the silver wedding was of course not the mother but
the stepmother (and also aunt) of our Lepsius. (See page 294.)
[104] “On the Limits of Natural Knowledge.” The conclusion to which
Lepsius came was that the true limits of the knowledge of nature
coincide with the limits of human capacity for knowledge in general.
Beyond these limits he finds, as we know from other utterances, room
for his living God.
[105] The 1838 on the title page is a misprint for 1837.
[106] No earlier English edition of the “Standard Alphabet” can be
found than that of 1863, and none is mentioned in Low’s “English
Catalogue of Books.”
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