In the following summer term of 1831, his fifth, he attended, and always with the same enthusiasm, O. Müller’s lectures on Archaeology, on Grecian Antiquities, and on Tragic Art among the Greeks and its interpretation of the Homeric Hymns. He continued to follow Mitscherlich’s exposition of the Pharsalia of Lucan, and pursued Sanscrit with Ewald. He advanced the study of this important language so far into the foreground of his scientific labors that he placed himself in open opposition to the old philological school. This he did in conjunction with the two friends who, with himself, composed the clover leaf of Ewald’s auditory. In the spirit of F. A. Wolf, and encouraged by O. Müller, he wished to become acquainted with ancient humanity, not only in its entity but also in its development. He was no longer contented with learning Greek and Latin, and although his admiration was still excited by Hermann’s rational presentation of the grammar according to the principles of Kant, the elegance and acuteness of his criticism, and his original investigations in the domain of metric art, yet he nevertheless desired to follow his lead no longer, but had turned his attention to antiquity in its universal and interdependent evolution. His object was to trace out the origin of the ancient languages and their relation to each other, and the growth and blossoming of the art and intellectual life of the ancients. Therefore, under Ewald’s tuition, he became a Sanscrit scholar and a comparative linguist, under the guidance of O. Müller, an archaeologist who was also interested in comparative mythology, and, powerfully influenced by Heeren and Dahlmann, a historian. If we picture to ourselves the nature of the scientific aspirations of our friend, and the advances which he had made, we can only wonder that even at Göttingen he had not already turned his eyes towards Egypt, where many a branch of the art and learning of the ancients has its root.

Nevertheless, as we shall see, he was to be led thither by external circumstances, which at the time, however, coincided with his own inclinations.

He attended Dahlmann’s course on “Ancient History,” and wrote of him to his father: “He pleases me extremely; he is just as far from giving a dry skeleton of the chief events, without grasping history in its higher significance, as he is from serving up generalities and conclusions based upon theories instead of facts. An upright mind, and an earnest nature which must inspire respect, are united in him to the clear penetrating sagacity which sifts a subject and seizes its essential points. This makes him as skillful and pre-eminent in scientific research in the domain of ancient history as he is in the study of the politics of the most recent times, with which he principally and most successfully occupies his remaining time. His mode of presenting his theme is especially distinguished by a perfect command and critical examination of the very extensive subject-matter, whose most important periods he understands how to characterize and place in the proper light in brief yet apposite phrases. His discourse is distinguished by quiet, clear, singularly fine, indeed classical language, not a word too much or too little.”

We know no more happy sketch of the excellent Dahlmann as an academical teacher.

Dissen, whose influence had especially attached Lepsius to classical philology at Göttingen, had become so ill that he could offer him but little more. Besides, the pupil had been more and more alienated from the excellent, but irritable and feeble scholar, by his doctrinary and over-subtle mode of systematizing. “Unfortunately,” he writes, “Dissen is not yet at all restored to health; he suffers from excessive weakness and sleeplessness. As he often feels very lonely and depressed through the night, he frequently has some of the students with whom he is more intimately acquainted to sit up with him. He lies on the sofa with his clothes on and has something read aloud to him, or converses with them, till now and then he catches a little nap. I shall go there to-day or to-morrow, and Kreiss, who has offered to do the same, is in great distress about it, because he inevitably falls asleep about ten o’clock, even when he is reading aloud. Dissen considers himself sicker now than he really is, by which he only makes his sickness worse.

This opinion was mistaken, and was proved to be so by the painful end of the distinguished scholar.[6]

In the autumn of 1831, at the conclusion of this fruitful summer term, Lepsius begged his father for permission to follow his best friend, Kreiss, to his home at Strasburg, in Alsace, and to pass the holidays there in the house of Kreiss’s parents. Just at this time the court president had incurred great expenses, yet he was willing to comply with his son’s wish, if the latter could assure him that he expected to derive substantial scientific advantages from the proposed journey.

“As I am well acquainted,” runs the answer, “with your present circumstances of which you write, and how all your expenses accumulate just at this time, it would be foolish and very wrong of me to expect from you any considerable sum for a pure pleasure trip. You yourself make your permission dependent upon your firm conviction that I shall derive from this trip great, and not trifling, gains for my scientific as well as for my general education, and indeed on a moderate sum. Of the former I cannot say so much, since the literary advantages will be confined to the diligent, and let us hope, more intelligent and judicious consideration of the treasures of art on the way, and whatever chance may possibly throw into my hands at the library in Strasburg. But I cannot overlook the indirect benefit, dependent upon forming the acquaintance of so many learned men, which must conduce to advancement in my general culture. For I may well say that this lies no less near to my heart, and has always done so, than purely philological progress; indeed, I have always regarded them as quite inseparable, one completing and sustaining the other. But if I can say of none of my former excursions that they were mere pleasure trips, from which I derived no substantial benefit, still less would it be true of this next one, to which I should address myself with better preparation and more knowledge than to any previous journey. Besides, I could neither make up for it in the future, during my final years of study, when my time will be still more limited, nor could I ever again expect to meet so good an opportunity.”

Lepsius remained faithful to this desire for general culture throughout his later years, and it preserved the indefatigable investigator, who was often obliged to devote the best part of his time and energy to apparently trivial scientific problems, from becoming, even in the remotest degree, what is called a closet scholar.

Unfortunately we have before us only the lesser half of the account which he sent his father of this autumn journey to Strasburg and his sojourn there. This, however, is sufficient to show with what vigilance he seized on everything that was noteworthy, what a keen appreciation he had acquired, under the tuition of O. Müller, for art and all that is classed under the head of relics of antiquity, and how indefatigably he searched the libraries for their stores of knowledge. Wherever he went, too, he considered it especially desirable to make the acquaintance of eminent men, and to establish relations with them. Of books, characteristically enough, he took none with him but Müller’s Handbook of Archaeology and Ewald’s work on Sanscrit. He was an active pedestrian, but the hard work of the last term was visible on his originally robust physique, for after he had claimed at Mainz the hospitality of a cousin of his father’s the latter wrote to the president of the court at Naumburg: “Moreover, I cannot conceal from you that friend Richard looks thinner now than he did three years ago.[7] His pedestrian tour from Göttingen here cannot be to blame, therefore I have made inquiries of H. Kreiss as to the cause of it, and learned from him that he (Richard) is in the habit of studying far into the night. This never answers, and undermines the best constitution; so warn him against it, for it would be a great pity if with all his talents and the learning which he has already acquired, he should carry away an infirm body.”