BERLIN.

“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 toThis quarry or its products, do,He shall be punished according to lawAnd 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 theoratio pro coronaof 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 inhis 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 objectwas 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 toadvancement 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 especiallydesirable 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 whohad 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!”

Afterhis return from Strasburg, Lepsius went back to Göttingen, and in the spring of 1832 he removed thence to Berlin, there to conclude his studies. Thetestimonials 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 andfar-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 (theEugubiumorIguviumof 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 Umbrianinscriptions 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 allthe 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 inGubbio. 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 theBulletinoof 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 theDR. JUR.Goeschen, theDR. PHIL.Kaempf, and theCAND. 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 satdown together and drank a bottle of thevery 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 practicalsavoir 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.

Beforethe 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. Pariswas 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 byboth, 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 wellas 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 hemarked 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 theCirque 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. Heis 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 ofeverything 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 eventof 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 withnature, 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 whichformed the key-note of the clamor, he found it to be the treblee. 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 thea, 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 Sanscritaoriginally was even considered as a consonant, or rather asacombination of the GreekSpiritus lenisand theawhich 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 firstto 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 hiscorpus inscriptionemthe 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 forthclearly 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 giveboth 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 havepublished 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 asituation 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.

Fornearly 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 famousunder 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 stoodthe 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 withYoung 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, theGrammaire égyptienne, (1836-41), and theDictionnaire 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 hisPrécis 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 scholarsespecially, 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 thePrécis 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 havingtaught 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 succeededthe 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 andbooks[16]in Paris, but there was a very obvious want of old Egyptian hieroglyphic writings, well published. The inscriptions[17]reproduced in the greatDescription 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’sMonuments de l’Égypte, etc.

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