Lepsius was also induced to construct a history of the Kushite peoples from the records on the monuments of the struggles which the more feeble Nubians had to sustain against that race. At an early date the Kushites were in possession of both shores of the Red Sea, and had also made themselves masters of theeastern bend of the Nile adjacent thereto. Lepsius was also inspired by the desire to approach more nearly to a solution of the problem whether the so-called Ethiopian stone inscriptions, which were yet undeciphered and many of which are to be found between Philae and the confluence of the two sources of the Nile, were written in the African tongue of the Nubians, or in the Kushite language. Of this latter the present Begá language, which is comparatively little known must be considered the successor. This portion of his work is one of the author’s boldest intellectual feats. The chapters which he devotes to the Kushite Puna, as the predecessors of the Phoenician colonists on the Mediterranean, and to their emigration to Babylon, have roused much opposition, and have encountered serious doubt even in ourselves. But other portions of this same historical statement are of great value, and must give repeated impulse to fresh investigation.
The final result of all these researches is that the key to the “Ethiopian” inscriptions so frequently mentioned is to be sought, not in the Nubian but in the Begá language, and the future, we think, will prove the correctness of this supposition. Had Lepsius, during his long journey, been in a position to arrive at those conclusions whence he afterwards inferred the high historic and linguistic importance of the Begá language, he would have given it the first place in his philological researches. He would have devoted to it the thorough study which, as a matter of fact, he gave to theNubian tongue. The fundamental and comprehensive manner in which he prosecuted this latter study is proved by the second part of the work mentioned above, which comprises the Nubian grammar and its rules of pronunciation, etymology and syntax, as well as reading exercises. These include the whole Gospel of St. Mark, the “Our Father,” and a series of Nubian songs, besides the lexicon and scheme of the Nubian dialects. Good old Achmet Abu Nabbut, a native of Derr, who was perfect master of two Nubian dialects, (the Kennez and Mahas), and first introduced Lepsius to the Nubian tongue, has been for months in my own service, and assures me that Lepsius was the only European who knew how to write the language of his native land. After Lepsius returned to Germany the Nubian ‘Ali wed Schaltuf, whom Count W. von Schlieffen had brought from Africa with him, also did him good service. The Nubian Grammar is certainly a useful work in itself, but the magnificent introduction which precedes it is of yet greater weight and higher significance. It may be described as the beautiful and enduring result of many years of faithful industry and difficult preparatory labor,[91]upon a wide domain of research which had been almost untrodden before.
Max Müller, a faithful friend of the departed, and of his family, has made the following appropriate remarks on this introduction: “While most comparative philologists are at present absorbed in details regarding the character of the possible dialectal diversities of individual vowels and consonants, Professor Lepsius draws with bold strokes the mighty outlines of a history of language which covers four or five thousand years, and embraces the whole continent of Africa and the neighboring coasts of Asia. As the admirers of Gerard Douw shake their heads before the immense surfaces which Paul Veronese has covered with color, so we can readily understand that scholars who are absorbed in the question whether the Arian language had originally four or five distinct “A’s,” turn with a sort of terror from investigations like those of Lepsius, where languages are traced back to a common origin. Happily there is room for both in science, for the Gerard Douws and the Veroneses; indeed it is to be sincerely desired in the interests of science that the two styles may ever exist side by side. There is still much rough work to be done among the hitherto unstudied languages of the world, and for this work the bold, far-seeing eye of the huntsman is far more necessary than the concentrated labor of the philological microscopist.”
For the rest, the Grammar contains much which shows with how fine an ear and sense of detail its author was endowed. He has also proved himself to be a microscopist in his chronological and metrological investigations. To these, as we know, he remained faithful to the end. The effects of his apoplectic attack could not break down his vigorous nature, and his last papers in the “Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache and Alterthumskunde,” his controversial treatise against Herr Dörpfeld, his “Linear Measures ofthe Ancients,” best prove that the vigor and acuteness of his mind were entirely untouched by this ominous misfortune, and by the heavy blows of destiny which he encountered during the last years of his life.
Lepsius’ career as a Master Workman ended with his life. He was a diligent and faithful laborer up to the boundaries of this earthly existence. He, the Senior Master of a most ambitious branch of study, has laid down his office of pioneer and leader. Egyptology, to which he consecrated the best part of his great powers, will deserve the name of a science so long as she follows the way which the departed pointed out to her. In him the Berlin university lost one of its ornaments, and the Fatherland an investigator who, far beyond its borders, was accounted one of the most eminent of his time.
THE HOME OF LEPSIUS.THE HOME OF LEPSIUS.
SinceLepsius’ fortunate entrance into the haven of matrimony we have devoted our whole attention to estimating his scientific achievements as a master workman, leaving unmentioned his personal experiences, except so far as they fell within the sphere of his scholarly labors. We thought it better to depict his domestic life, and the man Lepsius, in the circle of his family and friends, quite apart from his scientific occupations. These latter were carried on in the sanctuary of his study, in the lecture room, or in the public library. No one ever understood more thoroughly than he how to disengage his mind from his special pursuits, and to enjoy intercourse with wife or child, with individuals or general society. None better knew how to participate with both intellect and heart in animated conversations on art or literature, science or politics. His special acquirements remained hidden until a desire was expressed for information on such subjects, and he was appealed to.
The Lepsius who returned from the Orient and founded a home of his own, was essentially different from the young scholar who had been reckoned among the conservatives in Göttingen, and whom we saw indignantly quit Schleiermacher’s lectures on the Life of Jesus, in Berlin. During a long sojourn in England, which had brought him into connection with the leaders of political life, he had learned to appreciate the rights of the people, and the advantages of a free state under a constitutional government. He had spent three years in the East under unusual conditions, always in a position of authority and subject to none. What can so quickly expand even the most limited views, what can more certainly conduce to an unfettered and vigorous use of existence, what can more strengthen even the feeblest self-confidence, what canlead with more imperious necessity to self-examination and to knowledge of one’s own faults and merits, than a prolonged sojourn in the East, and in the silent desert?
He had returned home entirely self-reliant, understanding himself and his aims, and capable of maintaining his own stand in the face of opposition. He had become a free-thinker of dispassionate and temperate views, who had learned to despise the barriers which prejudices and one-sided opinions of every kind malevolently set between men. He no longer held to the dogmas and formulas of a circumscribed confession, but he still adhered to that Christ to whom his free-thinking father had taught him to look up as the harbinger of pure self-sacrificing human love.
And the choice of this man had fallen upon a maiden of eighteen years. All who knew her as a bride speak of her as a charming, happy creature, full of childlike archness. But nevertheless passionate blood ran through the veins of this young girl; Elizabeth’s finely cultivated mind was restless and over-active, and her soul was completely filled with ardent and fanatical religious zeal.
What contrasts! Seldom has there been a pair in every respects so different; and yet they confirmed Schiller’s lines: “For where the severe with the tender, where the strong and the gentle unite.” Love was the metal of that bell whose voice had drawn them together, and bound them to each other for a life time. It gave forth a pleasant sound, and only one discord,which became especially perceptible in their latter years, and which was produced by the great difference in their religious convictions. This disturbed his ear but slightly, for, calm and assured of his own aims, happy in his work and in his life, he devoted his time to labor and science, and his intervals of recreation to his children, to social pleasures, to the learned societies of which he was a member, to his garden, to music, whose pleasures he gladly shared with his wife, and to his beloved chess. At first she had attempted to realize the dream of her girlhood, and to kindle his heart with the fire of her own enthusiasm; but in vain. Tranquilly and cheerfully he accompanied her to church, and whenever his occupations permitted it, usually on Sunday, he took part in the daily household worship which she had instituted. He allowed her to train the children, and to instil into them that religious feeling in which he himself was not wanting, and in which he recognized the loveliest flower of the soul, and of the feminine soul especially. But he warned her against excess and exaggeration, which were so alien to his own nature, and possibly this unsympathetic attitude towards what to her was highest and holiest, only contributed to cause in her ardent heart still warmer devotion to the doctrines of her positive Protestant faith. We should here assert, in the most decided manner, that this devotion was of the most unobtrusive kind. Frau Lepsius never gave it public manifestation, and the only ones whom she allowed to share in it were her nearest relatives, her pastor, andher diary. She was ever averse to the course of the zealots and pietists, who enjoyed such palmy days under Frederick IV., and once, on hearing a sermon by the famous pastor Knak, she left the church in indignation. The noble Jonas and the excellent Kögel were her pastors, and certainly had more frequently to moderate than to kindle her zeal. Her husband saw no reason for serious interference with the excessive religious aspirations of her soul, for to him she gave everything that a man can ask from the companion of his existence: a heart overflowing with love, esteem heightened to admiration, and a warm interest in all his labors and productions, even the most abstruse. In addition to this she cared with prudence, skill and indefatigable industry for the management and embellishment of the home, and there were few houses where the hostess was able to make her guests so thoroughly at ease. Nothing was farther from her thoughts than a puritanical renunciation of the pleasures and delights of this world, and she gave a zest to the household festivals by the inexhaustible fertility of her ideas in the way of original representations and spectacles. She pleased in society by her amiability and wit; she was the best of mothers; and as the children grew up she was so excellent and untiring a teacher that he, who had never had any confidence in his own ability as a pedagogue, was glad and thankful to resign to her the charge of the mental and moral education of the children. Among them were boys who were hard to govern, yet they all turned outexcellently. In matters of charity he gave her entire liberty.
The inner being of this rare woman lies plain before us, and we are permitted to follow the life of the Lepsius family almost from day to day. We ourselves visited the house of Lepsius only as a friend and guest, but the diary of its mistress, some twenty volumes, makes us a member of the household. It is honest, simple, and yet written with great intuitive perception. A number of poems are intermingled with the excellent prose. They are mostly of religious tenor, and many of them are distinguished by their lofty strain and beautiful thoughts. The perusal of this journal has therefore afforded us genuine pleasure, and it has exhibited to our soul as well as to our sight, the character of a woman so singular and noble in her love, her activity and her aspiration that we separate from it with sincere admiration, but also with deep regret. It would be to abuse a great trust, were we to yield to the desire to portray the character of its author from the avowals contained in this journal, and yet this would excite quite different, and tenfold greater, interest than that of her husband. For how much less alluring to the psychologist is the calm progress of a man who came early to maturity, his successful contests with the impulses of youth, and his tranquil labors after the goal was attained, than the ceaseless struggles of a woman distinguished above thousands by the ardor of her soul and the keenness of her intellect. Yet we may be at least allowed toextract from the diary all that can serve to give the reader a clear idea of life in the home of Lepsius, its intercourse with the outside world, and the experiences of its head as a husband, and as a member of a select society.
Every betrothal has its history. Lilli (Elizabeth) Klein,[92]who was greatly admired, had done some friends the favor to appear at an entertainment as the fourteenth guest. The ominous number thirteen was caused by Lepsius’ declining the invitation at a late moment. But, nevertheless, he appeared, after all the guests were assembled, and it was on this occasion that she made his acquaintance. “Oh Superstition” she wrote in her diary, “for the first time I bless thee.”
Even this first meeting had carried the day withher. The next Sunday she could not help thinking of him during the sermon, and when she visited him with several of her relations, amongst whom there were some young ladies, to inspect the curiosities which he had brought with him from the Orient, her young heart was not only disturbed, but deeply troubled, because he seemed to have paid more attention to her sister than to her, and she already loved him.
The following day put an end to her anxiety. It was a Palm Sunday, and that evening he wrote in his term-calendar “To-day the palm of life is won,” while, at a later hour, she confided to her diary the rejoicings of her heart. She prefaced the sentences with which she gave expression to her rapture by Chamisso-Schubert’s “I cannot understand it, I cannot believe it.”
She continues: “God, my God, how shall I thank thee for this unutterable bliss! No, it is too great and too much, my Heavenly Father. ‘Beloved!’ Beloved by him! My heart is full, but I cannot write! My soul rejoices in the thought; Beloved by him! But how can I prove myself worthy of him?”
The letters which he wrote to Elizabeth also lie before us, and it is not without deep emotion that we read these beautiful effusions of tender passion from the profoundly touched heart of a man to whom we had been accustomed to look up as an earnest teacher, and the dignified senior master of our science. Here we see him succumb with lovable weakness to a beautiful human emotion.
The passion for his “Lilli” compensates him forthe magic of the East, which he had felt so deeply a short time before, and he calls her his “Shulamite” and his “Rose of Sharon.” Yet even in the bonds of love he preserves the fundamental instincts of his soul, and he writes to her: “Often and earnestly do I ask myself, my dear Lilli, whether it is not after all ignoble selfishness, when I feel such intense bliss in your devoted love, and in the consciousness that I have won you, so ardently beloved a spirit, for my own. But then again I feel that through your love all that is good in me is helped and strengthened, and I become capable of a higher and purer love towards God and our fellow beings, and then it seems as if it could not be wrong to desire such a relation with all the strength of one’s soul; as if this happiness were our vocation, seldom however to be attained untroubled, and never entirely unalloyed, upon this earth. Oh, my Lilli, what a rare and rich life would lie before us if the thoughts which we have exchanged in our letters should one day become an actual living reality, not only in word but in deed.”
The pure exultation of a maiden’s heart, overpowered by true love, re-echoes from her diary throughout the whole time of the betrothal. It is true that there were many differences of opinion between the betrothed, especially when religious questions were discussed, but his cheerful serenity was always able to make amends for whatever might have wounded her feelings in such disputes, and, taken as a whole, their betrothal was one long happy festival. He taught herthe hieroglyphic alphabet, and wrote out for her little protestations of love in the picture writing of the old Egyptians. The learned man of five and thirty was unwearied in the invention of tender speeches, and it must have pleased Elizabeth-Lilli to have heard herself called, both in his letters and from his lips, by eighteen pet names,—she counted them herself. There was no lack on his side of verses, flowers, and acts of homage. In the house of the Partheys, who had adopted the orphan niece as a daughter, entertainment followed upon entertainment, gay excursions to the country were arranged, and masquerades, at which Elizabeth was obliged to appear in Turkish dress. But this gay life was contrary to her inclinations and to his likewise. The wedding was celebrated on the fifth of July, 1846, not in the old Nicolai house in Behren Street, where they had first known each other, but at Dresden. The excellent pastor Jonas, from Berlin, performed the marriage ceremony in the Church of Our Lady, and after a brilliant wedding banquet the young couple went to Pirna, the first stopping-place in a longer wedding trip which took them, by way of Paris, to England. There they were cordially received by the Bunsens, and the young wife found the eminent statesman and patron of her husband so kind and friendly that her fear of appearing embarrassed before him proved entirely unfounded.[93]She described vividly everything noteworthy that occurred to her,and depicted with a bold and ready pen the impression made on her by men and things. She saw her Richard received everywhere with the same respect and cordiality; the light of his fame enveloped and delighted her, but on their journey home a charming attention fell to her lot also, for at Cologne her father’s great mass, which she never yet heard, was performed in the most admirable manner as a mark of respect to her.
On the seventeenth of September they returned to Berlin, and “Richard” writes Elizabeth, “was forced to laugh at the childish delight which I showed in the beautiful big house, our own house, (in Behren Street) where I am to be mistress.”
They were soon installed, and the young couple, who were freed from all material anxiety by the comfortable property of the wife and the salary of the husband, could now return the hospitality which had been offered them on all sides. In spite of her strict piety the wife showed herself as much inclined as was her husband to social intercourse with agreeable guests. A few weeks after their return the young couple entertained a number of friends, and who these were we see from the memoranda before us. On the third of November, 1846, there met at their house Gerhard, v. Olfers, Homeyer, Max Müller, the Grimm brothers, Parthey, Carl Ritter, Ehrenberg, Lachmann, L. Ranke and E. Curtius. On the fifteenth of December there were assembled there A. v. Humboldt (who also visited them on other occasions, and for whom, Frau Elizabeth writes, she felt a genuine affection) v. Olfers,Boeckh, Pertz, Cornelius, v. Reumont, the Grimm brothers, Homeyers, Strack, the Partheys, Schelling and Bethmann.
Such a company of illustrious men could at that time be brought together nowhere but in Berlin, and if we consult the diary of Frau Lepsius and Lepsius’ later note-books, and appeal to our own memory, we shall und that the assemblage of noted colleagues and countrymen was constantly increased by a number of eminent strangers. Amongst them were scholars, travelers, statesmen, artists, and even the ambassadors of foreign powers, who were unwilling to leave Berlin without having visited the house of Lepsius. The most faithful friend of the family, beside the Partheys and Pinders, was the valued traveling companion of the young husband, Abeken, who had renounced his career as a divine, and was constantly rising to higher and higher positions in the Foreign Office.
How kindly Frederick William IV. was disposed to Lepsius may be inferred from the fact that soon after the return of the latter from his wedding trip the King sent him fifteen hundred thalers towards the establishment of the new household. Frau Elizabeth writes: “It is altogether a peculiar feeling; to have in hand such a large sum that seems as if it had fallen from heaven. I was quite troubled about our great good fortune in material things, and I reminded Richard of the ring of Polycrates. But as I read the day after in a letter from C. P. to Richard: ‘Whoever has behind him such a fruitful and undesecrated youth as youhave, has a right to make claims upon life, which will not fail to reward you abundantly.’ Nevertheless one is astonished, and such a distribution of fortune seems almost unjust, if one considers what an immeasurable sum and what great wealth such a gift would be to poor people, and how to Richard it was only a pleasant proof of the King’s good-will, which he calmly put in the fund for setting our house in order. Five hundred thalers he reserved for current expenses, and soon it had all vanished as it had come.”
In his own house Lepsius stood at the helm with a steady hand, but his wife ever strove to make his voyage through life pleasant and happy.
Her struggle for greater calmness and a more equable nature is touching, as is the loving humility with which she recognizes his superiority; and often does a phrase, an interjection, in the midst of matter-of-fact records, give expression to her true and tender love. She says: “It is grand in Richard, that he can take everything so naturally. It comes from his perfect honesty; if I could only educate myself up to him.” When her first little daughter was able to stand alone she wrote: “Richard and Anna, these names embrace my whole happiness, the fragrant blooming shower of blessings which Our Father in Heaven pours upon me from the abundant horn of plenty of His grace and love.”
The diaries are replete with such expressions. Especially neat and pointed are the little sketches of eminent men drawn by the young wife. Whoever waspersonally acquainted with Master Peter Cornelius, (he was a friend of my mother’s, and indeed once made a portrait of me as a boy), will admit that it would not be possible to depict his external appearance more neatly and pointedly than in the following words from the diary of Frau Lepsius. She writes: “A little, thick-set man, with a black peruke, piercing black eyes, wide, kindly mouth, and with thought upon his wrinkled brow.”
On the twenty-fifth of July, 1847, a daughter was granted to the young couple. She received the name of Isis Anna. Minister Jonas, the liberal-minded pastor of the household, found nothing wrong in the choice of the name of the heathen divinity Isis, but strange to say, Bunsen took serious exception to it, and gave expression to his disapproval in a letter. The happy father answered in the following letter, in which we see pleasantly manifested the joyous zest in life by which he was at that time animated.
“Our little Isis gives us infinite delight; she thrives splendidly. Her mamma has carried her point by giving her the name of Anna. I foresaw that I should furnish a subject for witticisms, in the name of Isis, to those people in Berlin who honor us with their attention. It is necessary to throw them a few crumbs of that sort from time to time, so that they may not devise something worse. I was as little able to find any serious scandal in it as was the excellent Jonas who administered the baptism. Scarcely any one keeps tothe Calendar for the sake of the Calendar itself, and I should much prefer Friedhelm and Maxhelene, the children’s names recently given by Ranke, to the Fides, Spes and Charitas, or Titus, Ptolemeus, Sosthenes, Lot, Habakkuk, Methuselah, etc., of the Calendar. Yet Ranke comes very near to offending against the only limitation which I should admit; that of not choosing ludicrous names. Take Erica, Berenice, (that is Veronica,) or Emin, which is the name of young Wildenbruch, the elder brother of the talented poet Ernest von Wildenbruch; no one has anything against such names as these and innumerable others, though they too are as little in the Calendar, and have as little Christian precedent, as a hundred thousand ἁπαξ λεγόμευα from the birth of Christ to our time, in all Christian countries. Besides, Isis, to every one who knows the Egyptian goddess, is a very honorable name, which can only recall the author of all good, a faithful spouse and sister, the model and recognized prototype of all queens. What the Romans made of her need trouble us as little as their opinion of the image of Jehovah in the Jewish temple, and can as little cast suspicion upon her as can the Christianity of the Königsberg impostors upon the name of Christian. If, in another year, I have a boy to baptize I shall not be obliged to call him Apis, as Osiris is already received in the Christian Calendar, under a much more beautiful form as Onophrius.[94]But I will take care not to impose upon himthe equally Christian name of the Typhon, “Set.” I should like to see any one who would not as utterly fail in any theory for the giving of Christian names, as did, not long since, the law forbidding the Jews to bear Christian names. But, on the other hand, I consider it very wise to give the clergy a certain freedom to exclude unsuitable, scandalous names of every kind, according to their own honest judgment.”
“Our little Isis gives us infinite delight; she thrives splendidly. Her mamma has carried her point by giving her the name of Anna. I foresaw that I should furnish a subject for witticisms, in the name of Isis, to those people in Berlin who honor us with their attention. It is necessary to throw them a few crumbs of that sort from time to time, so that they may not devise something worse. I was as little able to find any serious scandal in it as was the excellent Jonas who administered the baptism. Scarcely any one keeps tothe Calendar for the sake of the Calendar itself, and I should much prefer Friedhelm and Maxhelene, the children’s names recently given by Ranke, to the Fides, Spes and Charitas, or Titus, Ptolemeus, Sosthenes, Lot, Habakkuk, Methuselah, etc., of the Calendar. Yet Ranke comes very near to offending against the only limitation which I should admit; that of not choosing ludicrous names. Take Erica, Berenice, (that is Veronica,) or Emin, which is the name of young Wildenbruch, the elder brother of the talented poet Ernest von Wildenbruch; no one has anything against such names as these and innumerable others, though they too are as little in the Calendar, and have as little Christian precedent, as a hundred thousand ἁπαξ λεγόμευα from the birth of Christ to our time, in all Christian countries. Besides, Isis, to every one who knows the Egyptian goddess, is a very honorable name, which can only recall the author of all good, a faithful spouse and sister, the model and recognized prototype of all queens. What the Romans made of her need trouble us as little as their opinion of the image of Jehovah in the Jewish temple, and can as little cast suspicion upon her as can the Christianity of the Königsberg impostors upon the name of Christian. If, in another year, I have a boy to baptize I shall not be obliged to call him Apis, as Osiris is already received in the Christian Calendar, under a much more beautiful form as Onophrius.[94]But I will take care not to impose upon himthe equally Christian name of the Typhon, “Set.” I should like to see any one who would not as utterly fail in any theory for the giving of Christian names, as did, not long since, the law forbidding the Jews to bear Christian names. But, on the other hand, I consider it very wise to give the clergy a certain freedom to exclude unsuitable, scandalous names of every kind, according to their own honest judgment.”
Little Anna was followed by a second girl, Elizabeth,[95]and the latter by four boys, to the delight of the grandfather in Naumburg. For although he had been blessed with six sons and three daughters, strangely enough, he had had bestowed upon him no other “Lepsius” grandchildren that those who sprung from the marriage of his son Richard.
After the christening of Anna the family spent some delightful weeks in lovely Ilsenburg. The winter was passed in cheerful sociability and quiet enjoyment of their first-born, till in February, 1848, all other interests were entirely overshadowed by the news of the revolution at Paris. Lepsius had already foreseen when inParis the downfall of the citizen king Louis Philippe, and though he hoped that the next movement for freedom in France would be of benefit to the political development of Germany and Prussia, yet he feared that in those countries also violent uprisings of the people would be unavoidable.
Each day was filled with increasing anxiety, the danger approached more closely, and yet,—a notable sight—there was no break in the fulfillment of the husband’s duties, and everything held its accustomed course in the household, as well as in the social life of the capital. Apprehension was aroused for Vienna, on account of the dreadful Metternich administration; all ears were on the watch for every rumor. The Emperor of Russia was said to have been poisoned, Metternich to have been seized with an apoplectic fit in consequence of the news from Paris, and the Pope to have taken flight, and abandoned Rome. In spite of the tumult of the people on the streets during every evening of this remarkably beautiful month of March, anxiety for Berlin was dissipated, as in well informed circles they believed it certain that the King was inclined to make great concessions. At last political interests overcame all others, and the grave academical instructor Lepsius, in his private lectures conversed with his pupils on the events of the day, instead of discussing Egyptology. Then on the eighteenth of March the Berlin revolution broke out, in the midst of the concessions of the King, and the rejoicing of the populace. We are in possession of interesting informationon the course of this revolution, from the husband as well as from the wife. In those days politics had such power over every true man that even Lepsius took part in them incidentally. When Abeken brought him a paper much needed just at that time, a good concise proclamation for the Prince of Prussia, whom Lepsius especially esteemed, he immediately carried it to the press which was working for him, and had the foreman print, post, and distribute it. He understood perfectly that the revolution indicated a great step forward in the political life of his Fatherland, and his wife says that the Kreuzzeitung people, in an underhand way, placed them in a false position. The Bismarck family had lived in the same house with the Lepsiuses, and once when popular songs of liberty and “Not yet, not yet, is Poland lost,” had been sung during a social evening at their rooms, Frau Elizabeth writes: “Thank God that the Bismarcks have left, or he would have got us into the Kreuzzeitung as Republicans.” How times and men change! These latter, fortunately, sometimes to better and greater.
In September, 1848, Lepsius went to Frankfort, and from his letters to his wife we know with what warm interest he there followed the parliamentary transactions in St. Paul’s Church. He had learned many things from the statesman Bunsen, and we have seen (page 122) how keenly he followed, from time to time, the course of ecclesiastical politics in Prussia. On the whole his political opinions agreed with those of his patron in London. He wished to be not only ascholar and father, but a citizen also, and in 1848, he held it right “that every one should at least followsomebanner, and a bad one rather than none at all.”
In the beginning of the year 1849, the political situation threatened to make it intolerable for his father to remain in Naumburg, under the authority of the town commissioners of that place (he had resigned his public office in 1847). Therefore Richard wrote to him: “If you should actually resolve to leave Naumburg, here in Berlin you would certainly find much the greatest satisfaction for your higher intellectual pursuits and interests, which in themselves rank far above all political interests. Libraries, art collections, learned societies of every kind would be open to you, and in the more restricted circle of our own household, our relations and most intimate friends, you would once more find, as of old, peace, happiness and love, which have grown to be the greatest necessity of your life.”
In spite of the slight value which he allotted in these sentences to political interests, he yet followed the political development of his Fatherland to the last with warm sympathy. In 1849 he attributed the King’s change to a policy independent of Austria to Bunsen’s influence, and as events continued to shape themselves in a more and more gloomy fashion, he constantly insisted upon the necessity for a stronger exhibition of Prussian power, as due to the hegemony of Germany.
He owed great gratitude to Frederick William IV. and acknowledged very thankfully the favor which thismonarch had manifested to him personally, and the appreciation which he had always shown for his works and efforts. But in 1850, he already spoke with deep anxiety of Prussian politics. The Waldeck Process filled him with indignation, and in 1850, Frau Elizabeth, who was the echo of her husband’s opinions, writes in the journal: “Our proud Prussia, the only refuge of German hopes, once more subject to the commands of Russia and Austria!... I have never seen Richard so depressed on account of politics as he is now. I have seen tears in W. Grimm’s eyes over Prussia’s,—Germany’s,—disgrace.... The Prince of Prussia must be beside himself at the shameful turn of affairs.... He will now be looked upon by all parties as the sole salvation of Prussia.” After the humiliation at Olmütz, and the brave stand of the Hessians for their constitution, she writes: “Jacob Grimm said lately, ‘I am proud to be a Hessian.’ Alas for us, poor creatures, that we must say ‘Let every Prussian be ashamed!’ In the worst days of the revolution people were not so desperate and hopeless, so utterly overwhelmed as now.... The king approves of everything, and is pleased and cheerful!” Nevertheless she was warmly attached to Frederick William IV. and says of him: “What a character! So noble, so conscientious, so kind, with such a comprehensive mind,—and yet he is not a great man.” Later, after Frederick William IV. had left Berlin and removed to Potsdam, Lepsius wrote to his father: “Here the departure of the king has the effect of a death upon us. The recollection ofhim is very painful. On the other hand, new life springs up with the regency of the prince. Without precipitation, and with due calmness, many changes will soon be made, first in the leading men, and afterwards in the general tendencies.” Lepsius gave lively expression to his delight at the dawn of the so-called “new era.”
With what enthusiasm did he afterwards follow the upraising of his Fatherland under King William I. Our noble Emperor was ever a gracious master to him, and Lepsius was always among the chosen few invited to the evening tea-drinkings in the imperial palace. To our colleague Dümichen the Emperor spoke of Egyptology as “a science which our Lepsius has called to life in Germany.” To the author of this biography also the same great emperor, in the presence of their royal highnesses, the Grand-Duke and the Grand-Duchess of Baden, expressed himself with a warmth bordering on friendship regarding the great master of his science.
The following occurrence, related by Frau Lepsius, is characteristic of Frederick William IV. and his relation to Humboldt. A friend had been invited to Potsdam with Lepsius and some others, and while there ingenuously begged the king to speak a good word for him to the Duke of Brunswick, who was also present. The applicant wished to be appointed Musical Director at Brunswick. The monarch answered: “I cannot do anything for you in this matter; you must apply to Humboldt.”
All men of intellectual eminence who came to Berlin always visited the house of Lepsius. The excellent missionary, Krapf, was once a guest there, and was invited to court with Lepsius. At table, the king asked the missionary, philologist and geographer, “How long do you propose to remain in Africa?” and the latter answered: “Until I am dead. All my family are buried there, and where they are is my home.”
Besides his colleagues from the university and native and foreign scholars, deputies to the Chamber, of all shades of opinion, also frequented Lepsius’ house. It not only gave Frau Elizabeth the greatest pleasure to listen to the conversation of these men, which often took the form of lively debates, but it was also of real advantage to her. Three years after her marriage she writes: “These distinguished persons, with their different ways of thinking, strengthen the tolerance which lies in Richard’s character, and teach me to accept and find pleasure in each one as he is.”
On the ninth of November, 1851, was solemnized the baptism of the third child and first son.[96]The godparents were the grandfather Lepsius, Bunsen, represented by Abeken, Jacob Grimm, the great geographer Charles Ritter, Ehrenberg, and several other ladies and gentlemen.
Lepsius had invited Bunsen to become a sponsor in the following words:
“As you have more or less stood godfather to all my intellectual productions, I naturally have a lively wish that one of my real children might enter into this beautiful and reverential relation with you. Your friendly sympathy, and the fatherly love which you have always bestowed upon me, far beyond my capacity for any fitting return, permit me to hope that you will willingly fulfil this desire also. But for the child your name will be a dower whose value will increase with every year, and I already rejoice in spirit over the time when I can finally lead him to a full understanding of its significance. My wife insists that he shall be called by my name; but besides that he shall be named Charles, after my father, after you, and after Charles Ritter. Between these two we may perhaps insert a third, about which we are still hesitating, but it shall be neither a Pacomius, an Onophrius nor a Nilus, but an honest German name, possibly Jacob, after your fellow-godfather, Jacob Grimm, etc.”
“As you have more or less stood godfather to all my intellectual productions, I naturally have a lively wish that one of my real children might enter into this beautiful and reverential relation with you. Your friendly sympathy, and the fatherly love which you have always bestowed upon me, far beyond my capacity for any fitting return, permit me to hope that you will willingly fulfil this desire also. But for the child your name will be a dower whose value will increase with every year, and I already rejoice in spirit over the time when I can finally lead him to a full understanding of its significance. My wife insists that he shall be called by my name; but besides that he shall be named Charles, after my father, after you, and after Charles Ritter. Between these two we may perhaps insert a third, about which we are still hesitating, but it shall be neither a Pacomius, an Onophrius nor a Nilus, but an honest German name, possibly Jacob, after your fellow-godfather, Jacob Grimm, etc.”
At the christening it turned out that George and not Jacob had been chosen as the third name. This was after the first known ancestor of the Lepsius family, George Leps.[97]The christening feast was amerry one, and the godmother has given a brief account of the toasts which were drunk. That delivered by Jacob Grimm to the health of the godfathers is so characteristic of him that to everyone acquainted with this magnificent scholar and man it must seem as delightful as to the godmother it must have been agitating. “I like,” so he began, “to come to the christening of a child: it is always more agreeable than a wedding or a funeral feast, where one usually sees nothing of the principal persons.” He then found fault with the christenings of the present day, the numerous godfathers, wherein the young Charles George Richard was not lacking, and said that “formerly it was much more solemn than now. Then there were only two godparents, the child was entirely stripped—there was more to be seen—and it was first plunged under water in the font, and then covered with a little shirt. More account was made of the godparents. After baptism the child had to go to them on every holiday, and received a gift from them. The church regarded baptism as a regeneration, and therefore it was considered of much greater importance; on this account the child was baptizedimmediately.” Then he said that usually the godparents did not long survivethe child’s baptism (general contradiction), “his godfather had died half a year after his christening; however the boy could learn his name out of the books. The boy had three names, and that was particularlystupid.” (This word was strongly emphasized, and Frau Lepsius’ temper waxed hot). “He certainly only neededone, for when he was fooling around on the street with other boys and his mother wanted to call to him out of the window, she would not cry: ‘Charles-George-Richard come here,’ but ‘Richard, come here!’ He had waited and listened, to see if the minister would not pronounce ‘Jacob’ too, but in vain. What was there though in that name to take exception to? It was indeed a Jewish name, but still Jacob had been a good man, and he could tell of many excellent people who had been called Jacob. The name pleased him very well, and it grieved him that the child had not been called by it.”
To these latter words Frau Lepsius adds the remark: “It grieved me too very much at that moment, and still more afterwards.”
Here we will break off the description of this toast. It had touched the honest man very nearly that he had to share with so many others the honor of being godfather to the first-born son of his beloved Lepsius, and he would have liked to see the little one grow up with his own good name, as he had been led to expect. It was never his way to conceal his feelings; but nothing was farther from the childlike nature of this man, who in science was a giant, than any intention of giving pain.
His image still lives most vividly in my soul. For many years my mother, and I with her, inhabited the same house with the Grimms, in Lenné street, and I know how right Frau Lepsius was, when she said in her diary that there was in all the world nothing more benevolent and kind-hearted than William Grimm’s wife: that every one must feel to her as towards a beloved mother. The kindness and cheerful friendliness with which she added to the happiness of all of us brothers and sisters,—who among us has forgotten them? When Jacob met me on the way to school he always stroked my hair, and said: “Hurry, Flaxen-head.” It was Jacob Grimm who afterwards introduced me to Lepsius: Frau Grimm I saw for the last time when I was ill in bed, and she brought me a delicious cooling drink of fruit juice. Every memory of her is connected with something kind and lovely.
If we except Abeken, the most beloved of all the learned friends of the Lepsius family were the Grimms and Gerhard, whose wife was Frau Elizabeth’s intimate friend. This cordial feeling also extended to the children of William Grimm, and especially to Hermann, whose first poetic essays they watched with affection, but with impartial criticism.
So passed the weeks and months. The winter was given to work and social pleasures in the city; in the summer the wife and children went into the country. Longer journeys, such as the trip to upper Italy, were usually undertaken in the autumn. The family were very comfortable at Park-Birkenwäldchen near Berlin.In 1852 this was completely in the country, but it has long since been absorbed by the metropolis of Berlin. The husband often went thither to see his family, friends accompanied him, and in the repose of this rustic life Frau Elizabeth prepared the index for the letters from Egypt and Ethiopia. They were dedicated to A. v. Humboldt, and he received them with gratitude and emotion, although, to Lepsius’ regret, the friendship between them had been troubled, in consequence of an affair which concerns people who are still living, and therefore cannot be spoken of here.
In the summer of 1852, the first numbers of the great work on monuments were completed. But they had not yet been sent out, although Lepsius for several months had been insisting on their distribution. Finally he went once more to Sans Souci to urge the expediting of the matter upon Niebuhr, and found him walking with Gerlach upon a terrace. Just then the King stepped out on an upper terrace, and when he became aware of the Egyptologist called down to him “Lepsius, Lepsius.”
The monarch then shook him by the hand, and a conversation ensued which, on account of its characteristic turn, we will give just as it was recorded immediately afterwards.
King: “I have not seen you for along time. You have grown quite stout.”
Lepsius makes some reply, and then speaks of the delay in distributing the completed numbers of the great work.
King (to Niebuhr): “Tell me exactly how it stands?”
Niebuhr: “It is just as Lepsius represents it. Your Majesty has commanded the distribution, but the order has not been carried out.”
King: “Why, what delays it?”
Niebuhr: “I have already written three times to the Minister about it.”
King: “What Minister?”
Niebuhr: “Raumer.”
King: “Oh, then I understand it! If he has anything to do, it is always a year before it is finished. But don’t repeat that to him. Complain once more, Niebuhr!”
“Richard has also heard from Humboldt that the object of Niebuhr’s mysterious mission this spring (1852), was to invite Bunsen to resign,[98]which he, naturally, politely deprecated. And who was it they wished to put in his place? Bismarck Schönhausen, that smart, self-conceited young fellow! This is grand!”
Later Frau Elizabeth learned to appreciate fully this “smart young fellow.”
That autumn Lepsius went alone to England and Scotland. In London he worked successfully for the introduction of his standard alphabet. He went by way of Leyden, and again immersed himself in the treasures of the museum there, and enjoyed the hospitality of the excellent Leemans. It was at Warmond,on the estate of the mother of the distinguished Egyptologist and Director of the Museum that the idea of making a similar delightful summer house for his own family first occurred to him.
In September Frau Elizabeth journeyed to meet him at Strasburg, where she was hospitably received by the family of Kreis, her husband’s student friend. She then returned home with her husband by way of Stuttgart, Munich and Nüremberg.
The old life began anew after their return. In addition to the accustomed guests came also General von Radowitz and Count Raczynski, both of whom Frau Lepsius characterizes sharply and aptly. She concludes with the following parallel, after she has mentioned how astonishing the wit and knowledge of Radowitz appear to her: “Raczynski does not lead the conversation, he rather watches it, and lets himself be talked to; on this account he likes the society of clever people, while Radowitz prefers an astonished and attentive audience, as he is always striving to make an impression.”
But such distinguished visitors were the exception: their large and inspiring circle of acquaintances was almost exclusively composed of the leaders of the Berlin literati. When there was no company in the evening, and Lepsius was not attending any of the societies of which we shall have to speak, he played chess, and liked to have his wife play on the piano at the same time. Often too there were “musical evenings” in which both husband and wife took part, togetherwith guests, like Hermann Grimm and others, who were not members. In the winter of 1852-53, a numerous company assembled nearly every week at the Lepsius house. On the seventh of April we hear of their giving a large ball. “The Old Guard comes to the front,” writes Frau Elizabeth. “Even I resolved to dance again after an interval of eight years. At first it seemed strange to me to be whirling round, but by degrees I took pleasure in it again, especially in dancing with Richard, who was really a very delightful host. It is so charming in him,—the way in which he does everything that he has to do with his whole heart and without any reserve, whether it be grave or gay.”
The pleasures of this winter were soon brought to an end, for the mistress of the house lost her dearest friend, and in April died the excellent father of the master of the house. The affliction of Lepsius was great.
“Of all the family his father was nearest to him,” says Frau Elizabeth. “He always felt the greatest delight and the most genuine sympathy in everything that concerned Richard, in all his labors, his successes, his honors; with him Richard could talk freely of all his intellectual interests, for he understood all abstruse questions, and had, besides, the strongest paternal feeling; delighted in our children, etc.... Richard thinks now with every book that when he has written it, he can no longer give his father pleasure by sending it to him.”
A quiet season followed, and in their domestic retirement during the ensuing months they made some experiments at table-tipping, according to the current fashion at that time. They were very successful, and the enthusiasm of the mistress of the house and her interest in the supernatural were strongly excited; Lepsius himself treated the subject more coolly. “Richard, Abeken and Edward saw that we lifted up our hands by degrees, and yet the table moved; but, because it did not do so again, Richard thinks we had deceived ourselves.”
When at last the formal mourning was laid aside, and life again imposed its demands upon the Lepsiuses, the remembrance of the festival of 1852-53, formed the foundation for many charming performances, whose theatre was to be the new house which the married pair were about to build.
In October, 1853, the family had received notice to quit their dwelling in Behren Street, on account of the sale of the property, and they had therefore resolved to build a home of their own. With the same enthusiasm with which she threw herself into everything, Frau Elizabeth became interested in the carrying out of this idea, and, scale in hand, drew plan after plan, until she at last completed a design which met with the approval of her husband and his friends the architects, especially Erbkam. In fact it provided for all the family needs; but the choice of a building site was difficult. Lepsius at first fixed his eye upon the great Seeger lumber yard, which was at that time on the drill ground, now the Royal Square. It was thenjust about to be divided up, but the lots there were so dear, and the owner felt so confident of the purchase of the whole plot by the Treasury, that Lepsius was forced to look about for another situation. Long weeks passed in this search, and, among other strangers, the Lepsiuses received Oscar von Redwitz, before breaking up housekeeping for the summer to go with some intimate friends on a journey to Lübeck. The diary says of him: “He is the poet of the sentimental-religious Catholic Amaranth, which is so much read, (though not by us), and admired. He is a lively young Viennese, naïve, but not at all sentimental, so that he is better than his work.” The future undoubtedly proved that this talented poet was capable of things far more charming than what were at that time his most celebrated works.
The wife and children passed the rest of the summer in beautiful Friedrichroda, Elgersburg and Ilmenau in Thüringia, while the husband went to Schlieffenberg in Mecklenburg, whither he had been invited by Count Schlieffen, who had traveled through Egypt intelligently and with open eyes and who had brought home with him a Nubian from the neighborhood of the Cataract. As we know, Lepsius made use of this African, named ‘Ali’, who was an intelligent man and had entire command of his own language, to supply many deficiencies in the Nubian grammar, at which he still continued to work.
In January, 1854, the Berlin Academy of Sciences had resolved to have type cast for printing Lepsius’ standard alphabet, and before the beginning of February, he traveled once more to London in order to assure the acceptance of it on the other side of the Channel. The well-known missionary Kölle had already declared that he should make use of it. While Lepsius was working there with tact and success to introduce his alphabet, his wife became the mother of a boy, who, after the father’s return, received the name of Bernard at a merry and delightful christening feast. This was the Christian name of Frau Lepsius’ father, the celebrated composer, B. Klein. Among the many god-parents of the child were A. v. Humboldt, the Counts von Schlieffen and von Usedom, Peters, etc. Frau Lepsius was especially pleased with the presence of Humboldt after the estrangement which had taken place between him and Lepsius, but the obliging manner in which he said to her: “I thank you especially for having had the kindness to give the child my name,” could not inspire her with any warmth of feeling. E. Curtius’ daughter, Dorothea, was baptized at the same time with little Bernard. She afterwards became the wife of Richard, the eldest son of the Lepsiuses. Jacob Grimm toasted the two children, and this time in a very poetical and delightful manner. In the course of the toast he compared the boy with hail, which descends roughly and impetuously, and the maiden with snow, which murmurs softly and gently down.
The spring was passed in searching for a buildingsite and in pleasant social intercourse. On the twenty-fifth of May, 1854, they met Paul Heyse for the first time at Schott’s, and Frau Elizabeth wrote in her diary: “It is a long time since I have seen Richard so fascinated with anyone as he was with this young, animated, candid, handsome, excellent, enthusiastic, most lovable poet.”
Very painful to Lepsius was the downfall of his old patron and friend Bunsen, which occurred at this time. He had been offered the position of Minister of Ecclesiastical Affairs at Berlin, but in the beginning of ’54, while in London, he declared that in case of necessity Prussia would side with England. This set the King quite beside himself and General von Gröben was sent to London to reprimand Bunsen. The attempts at mediation of his son Ernest, whom he had sent to Berlin, were vain, and, in spite of the Prince of Prussia’s eager intercession for him, the Camarilla, and especially Gerlach and Manteuffel, had such strong influence over the King that he forsook his friend Bunsen, and permitted him to be dismissed.
But the anxieties of house-building were soon to place all others in the background, for a suitable plot was finally found in Bendler Street, (which at that time was sparsely built up,) and was bought on favorable conditions. The space at their disposal was large enough to permit of laying out an extensive garden, beside the roomy house.
At the laying of the corner stone, on the eighteenth of October, 1854, Lepsius made an admirable speech, from which we shall give some extracts later on. Thiswas of course the occasion of a festal celebration, and friend Abeken composed the following sonnet for it: