He did not do this from a selfish or vain ambition to have the praise of his name sounded, nor to increase the number of his addresses of gratitude, or written asseverations of affection.  He did it from love of mankind; because he desired to fulfil the vow he had made to God and himself on the highway as a shivering, starving lad:  that if he should ever become rich, he would be to every unfortunate and needy one the hand which had appeared out of the dust-cloud to his relief.  He did it because, as he tells us naively and simply in his Life, “I knew from my own experience how difficult it was for a community to collect such a sum, and because the idea of profiting by such misfortune was abhorrent to me.”

And now there was a brilliant banquet, and no end to the words of gratitude and tears of emotion.  This banquet was given by the Leipsic merchants in honor of him who had so magnanimously taken their part, saved them three hundred thousand dollars, and guaranteed their bonds.  And they devoured the delicate viands and emptied the beakers to his honor, and praised him in high-sounding speeches.

When Gotzkowsky, wearied and bored by this festival, returned home, he found on his table three letters.  The one which bore on its seal the arms of Prussia he opened first.  It was a cabinet order from the king to his private secretary, Leinning, to pay to the merchant, John Gotzkowsky, one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.  “Ah,” said he, smiling, “payment on account; I bought a hundred thousand ducats’ worth of paintings for the king, and he does not wish to remain always in my debt.”  With a slight shrug of the shoulders he opened the second letter.  Suddenly he burst into a loud laugh, and his countenance assumed an expression of derisive mirth.  “The Elector of Saxony, in consideration of services rendered to the town of Leipsic, appoints me his commercial privy councillor!” cried he, waving the paper in the air; “that is a good joke!  The little elector, who has been my debtor for many long years, is gracious enough to throw me a bit of rank—­a title!  Much obliged!  My name sounds well enough.  It is not necessary to have a title to be a man of honor.  Throw titles to numskulls, not to me—­away with it!”

He then threw the paper aside with scorn, and took up the third letter.  As he read it his noble countenance brightened up with proud pleasure, and his eyes sparkled.  It was a document from the town of Leipsic, an address of thanks from the magistracy, the concluding words of which ran thus: 

“In our extreme need we had recourse to Herr Gotzkowsky, the respected merchant and banker of Berlin, imploring the same to intercede for this town and its merchants with the king of Prussia; affording them his credit and valuable assistance, to accord to said town some reasonable respite for payment, with security.  To this earnest pleading Herr Gotzkowsky yielded, and, as a true philanthropist, without any ulterior views of profit to himself, did in the most praiseworthy manner assist us, and averted this misfortune from the town.  These services we are compelled to acknowledge.  We therefore offer our services in return on all possible occasions, not doubting that the mercantile community of this place entertain the same sentiments, and feel themselves equally bound to all imaginable reciprocity.