And he had reason to be grateful to Koberstein, for in the valedictory theme mentioned above and composed under his auspices we see indicated, as it were, the path which, after much groping and many essays, the studies of Lepsius were finally to follow.
With him, as with so many others, a vigorous individuality had, even in his school-days, exerted a decisive influence upon his subsequent intellectual tendencies. The elder Lepsius, the antiquarian, and Koberstein the accomplished linguist, indicated to their son and pupil from afar the goal for which he afterwards strove, it was reserved for others to be the guides who should determine and direct him thither.
At Easter, 1829, Lepsius, then seventeen years old, passed the final examination with the general certificate I., and left the school with a body invigorated by the merry games of boyhood on the gymnastic-ground and skating-pond and in the swimming-school, with a mind well prepared for every study, and a thorough mastery of the old classical languages.
How dear the school had been to him is shown by the following verses, taken from the farewell poem which he dedicated to it:
“A thousand times I’ve wandered
High on the mount above,
And gazed with quiet rapture
On the valley that I love.
“Beyond, the silver river!
And above, the shining skies!
While, beneath the mountain’s shadow,
What a happy dwelling lies!
“The gray walls seem to beckon,
They summon me to go,
And join the throng that gathers
In the garden there below.
“There many a youthful figure
Weaves the merry game, I wis,
But whence, ah whence, arises
In my heart, this pensive bliss?”
His father who, as president of the provincial court and commissioner for the examinations previous to matriculation, was a person of influence with the directors of the school, had desired that in the final scrutiny the performances of his son should be no more indulgently judged than those of every other alumnus. After Richard had been honored with the I., Ilgen wrote to his father in the following reassuring manner, having first announced the results of the examination: “You must on no account imagine that you are under obligations to any one. I assure you for my part that I would have done as I have, even if you were my worst enemy, and that I have only acted according to my conscience, as you may hear from Neue and Jacobi.”
It need not be said that young Lepsius was among the most prominent pupils of the institution. On the king’s birthday, on the third of August, 1826, the task of composing and delivering a poem in honor of the festival was imposed upon him. He chose for his subject “Albert of Babenberge,” and handled it, skilfully enough, in the Nibelungen stanza.