Richard Lepsius, a biography

by Georg Ebers

In England he was most cordially received by Bunsen, who had resigned his post at Rome, and left that city before our friend. The reason of this was that he had not succeeded in making an amicable adjustment of the ecclesiastical complications in Prussia (the quarrel at Cologne and the imprisonment of the Bishop of Droste-Vischering). Lepsius had long been adopted as a beloved comrade by the Bunsen family, and his letters show what a hearty interest he felt in every member of it, especially in the lad George, who was afterwards to become a prominent member of the German National Assembly.

It was an easy thing for Bunsen, whose admirable wife was descended from an English family of distinction, to smooth the way for Lepsius, not only in London but throughout Great Britain, and to open to him the doors of the best houses and of the collections most difficult of access. In this way the young German scholar not only learned to know English life on all sides, but also obtained admission to all the collections of Egyptian antiquities, whether they belonged to the government or to private individuals. He knew how to turn these favorable opportunities to good account, and in all England there were few hieroglyphic inscriptions which Lepsius did not carry away with him, either in impressions or copies, when he quitted hospitable Albion. His intercourse with Bunsen was especially delightful when he visited him at beautiful Llanover, the country place of his mother-in-law, Mrs. Waddington. Speaking of this subject, Hare says in his biography of the Baroness von Bunsen, “The friends were accustomed to wander over the hills for hours together in enthusiastic conversation about Egypt and its antiquarian writings, or to sit in profound conversation in the churchyard of Llanffoist under an oak tree a thousand years old.” They had much to say of the affairs of the Roman Institute, which Lepsius found to be very badly managed in England. The subscribers there had received none of the publications for years, many of them not since 1830, and on this account had stopped paying their dues. Others had supposed that the Institute had been dissolved, and the difficult task of correcting these errors and determining and collecting the arrears fell to Lepsius. His plan of publishing a separate volume of annals in London was not adopted, but he had the good fortune to secure S. Birch as an assistant in the management, and the latter was now entrusted with the affairs of the English section, in place of Millingen.

The conservative subject of the absolute monarch, Frederick William III., also learned in Great Britain to know the advantages of civil freedom and of parliamentary life.

He had much to settle with Bunsen himself regarding the work of which they were to be the joint authors, and he wrote from London to his faithful patron: “I have never labored with such love and devotion as now at our, that is, at your work. For it is you who have conceived the idea, and at the same time pointed out and assured its place in European science; you have spun the thread of its life and given the framework for the whole. Finally, you have provided the means for carrying it on, and everything that I accomplish and record I only do according to your ideas and for you, and as I work I naturally think of no other reader than yourself. I see that I must visit you to get you to give me a few quiet days in which we can come to a definitive understanding and agreement about the impending publication.”

Bunsen labored at the part of the work which fell to his share, as Lepsius at his, and the day seemed not far distant when the two would compare, combine, and publish their manuscripts. But there had already arisen many differences of opinion between the collaborators, and these seemed particularly important in the department of chronology, where Lepsius was to execute the lion’s share of the labor. While Bunsen, as was afterwards proved, reposed far too much confidence in the list of Eratosthenes, Lepsius had so high an estimate of Manetho as to place the greatest confidence in those lists of the series of kings which he considered the genuine work of that priest. He also made freer use of the historical inscriptions and the data of ancient Egyptian origin, (with which he had a much more intimate acquaintance than Bunsen), and attributed to them far greater importance, than seemed justifiable to the latter. The materials for his “Book of Kings” and his Chronology developed, and took the form of independent works, and although both were intended as a part of the book to be published in common by him and Bunsen, they yet contained, as we perceive from the letters of that period, a number of details which were in direct opposition to Bunsen’s views. At the end of the year 1839 it was already difficult to comprehend what path the fellow-workmen could pursue in order to arrive at a practicable agreement.

The confidence which Lepsius inspired in the highest circles of English society is shown by the circumstance that the Duke of Sutherland wished to take him into his household as mentor and tutor to his son. But the young scholar declined this flattering offer, which was associated with great material advantages, and wrote to Bunsen: “My one-sided talent in the dissection of organic structures has never been united with any readiness for presenting things broadly, as is necessary in teaching, and especially in teaching the young. Besides, I am not qualified for an instructor, because I perceive every day that I myself have not yet passed the season of education.”

These words sound somewhat strange on the lips of so thoughtful and able a young man; he was then twenty-nine years old. But at that time he was still striving after the ideal of life which hovered before him, and such expressions were partly dictated by modesty, partly by the disinclination which he had previously expressed for the vocation of a pedagogue, and partly also by a longing for Egypt. During his stay in England (1839) this became stronger and stronger.

After he had declined the offer of the Duke of Sutherland, he took serious council with himself as to how his future should be spent, and wrote to Bunsen: “A decision as to my immediate future is constantly becoming more imperative. But no matter in what direction I send forth my thoughts, not one of them brings me back the olive branch. I cut myself off from Italy,” (by giving up his situation in the Institute at Rome, although he was still to work for it in Germany), “I cannot stay in England.” Bunsen had been appointed Prussian Ambassador to Bern, and while in England Lepsius’ affections had become engaged, although he would not yield to the impulse of his heart, as his uncertain future did not permit him to woo a maiden who was apparently as poor as himself. “I have nothing to do in France, and it would be too soon for me to go to Germany. So Egypt is all that remains to me, and that is still the pole-star in all my deliberations. Some day or other Egypt must be devoured; this is my time, there is no war there now, etc. An Egyptian journey would be a great recommendation for me afterwards in Germany. In any case this would be the most natural course for my affairs to take. Ought it not be possible to attain this goal in some way? The first and most agreeable thought always leads to Berlin. Therefore, I ask you if an extraordinary effort might not be made there. An urgent application from you to the Crown Prince would be the main thing. I would appeal especially to Humboldt. Gerhard would certainly be willing to undertake the personal conduct of the affair. If this course seems to you entirely impracticable, or if it miscarries, I must try to start from here.... If the worst comes to the worst, I will raise the necessary money somewhere or other in Germany, and go to Cairo at my own risk.”

In this letter, he gives open expression to the desire of his heart for the first time. Bunsen thought him right, promised his young friend to do everything possible in the affair, and in conjunction with Humboldt to interest the Crown Prince, (soon afterwards Frederick William IV.), in his Nile journey. But he begged his protégé not to be over-hasty, and represented to him how detrimental it would be to break up their common enterprise, as well as the undertakings begun by Lepsius alone. His Umbrian and Oscan inscriptions finished at Rome, as well as two treatises, were still to be printed; and the edition of his “Book of the Dead,” besides several other things, was not yet concluded. Yet more, previous to his departure the Egyptian chronology and lists of kings, for which Bunsen was impatiently waiting, must be set in order, and the German translation of Gaily Knight’s “Development of Architecture,” also awaited its completion. This had been prepared by Lepsius’ father, and he had himself undertaken to revise and provide it with an introduction.

The impatient young Egyptologist yielded to these monitions of his experienced and benevolent patron, and in November, 1839, we see him again among his family at Naumburg. The ensuing months he spent partly in his native town, partly in Berlin, working indefatigably, while Bunsen (who had meanwhile arrived at Bern as Prussian Ambassador), and A. v. Humboldt exerted themselves to promote his Egyptian journey. The great influence of the latter had only increased, since the Crown Prince of Prussia, on June seventh, 1840, had ascended the throne as Frederick William IV. Lepsius was permitted to enter into closer relations with the famous friend of the King, as he satisfied Humboldt’s desire to possess a list of the stones and metals mentioned in the hieroglyphic texts. This he did in a fashion which surprised the natural philosopher, who was ever hungry for knowledge, and filled him with gratitude. Instead of a catalogue, Lepsius presented to him a treatise, of which he says himself that the style in which it was written gave him great pleasure. “These researches concerning stones,” he writes, “have brought to light many a jewel for myself, which I have deposited in my hieroglyphic store-chamber.” All that he then acquired remained lying there until, in 1871, it celebrated its resurrection in his model dissertation on the metals in Egyptian inscriptions.