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.