THE FRIEND IN NEED.

No one would have dared to speak a word for the refractory citizens and authorities of Leipsic to the king, nor act in direct contravention to his express orders.  Even the Marquis d’Argens, his intimate friend and confidant, had refused to be the advocate of the unfortunate town.  It seemed to be lost, without hope of redemption, and already it had been threatened with the extreme of severity.  It had been announced to the chief men, the fathers and heads of families who were pining in the prisons, that they would be transported on foot to Magdeburg as recruits, with knapsacks on their backs.  But at this moment the rescuer in need, of the afflicted city, made his appearance.

A tall, proud, manly form crossed the antechamber of the king.  Power and energy were visible in his countenance, and his eyes sparkled with noble excitement.  He was going to perform that duty from which courtiers and flatterers shrank with trembling; and what the bravest generals did not dare, he was going to undertake.  John Gotzkowsky was going to tell the king the truth.  John Gotzkowsky was not afraid to rouse the anger of a king, when it came to helping the unfortunate or protecting the oppressed.  He had a more noble mission to perform than to sue for the smiles of a king, or the favor of the great.  It was the higher mission of humanity which impelled him, and, as usual, his resolution was firm and unwavering.  With bold decision he reached the door which led into the king’s chamber.  He had the privilege of entering unannounced, for the king expected him.

He had summoned Gotzkowsky from Berlin, to obtain information as to the progress of the Berlin industrial works, and the faithful patriot had, in obedience to the call of his king, come to Leipsic.  He had seen the misery and suffering on this poor, down-trodden town, and, as he traversed the antechamber, he said to himself, with an imperceptible smile, “I brought the Russian general to clemency, and the king will not be harder than he was.”

But before he threw off his cloak, he drew out of it a small package, which he examined carefully.  Being satisfied with its appearance, he took it with him to the cabinet of the king.  Frederick did not look at him at first.  He was reclining on the floor, and around him, on silken cushions, lay his dogs, their bright eyes fixed on a dish which was placed in the midst of them.  The king, with an ivory stick, was carefully dividing the portion for each dog, ordering the growling, discontented ones to be quiet, and comforting the patiently waiting ones with a light jest concerning the next piece.  Suddenly he raised his eyes, and his quick glance rested on Gotzkowsky’s smiling, placid face.  “Ah, you laugh,” said he, “and in your human conceit you find it quite beneath one’s dignity to occupy one’s self with dogs, when there are so many human beings.  Let me tell you, you don’t understand any thing about it!