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.”