He owed great gratitude to Frederick William IV. and acknowledged very thankfully the favor which this monarch 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 of him 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.”
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 a merry 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 baptized immediately.” Then he said that usually the godparents did not long survive the 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 particularly stupid.” (This word was strongly emphasized, and Frau Lepsius’ temper waxed hot). “He certainly only needed one, 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.”