As I noted, this store was one of the first to specialize in office supplies. In time, there were many competitors, and Herbst was urged to abandon his patron and work for them. Each tried to attract him with double the salary paid by Rosenthal and Co. But Moritz Herbst remained loyal and continued to work for the allotted salary, never asking for a raise and never considering leaving to work elsewhere at a higher salary. Until something happened that demonstrated that anything can change, even a faithful servant. His employer sent him to transact some business in his name. He discovered, inadvertently, that the transaction was risky and that it would be a mistake to proceed on the basis of credit. He therefore didn’t conclude the transaction. On the other hand, another much larger transaction came his way, in which the bulk of the merchandise would be paid for in cash. Not only did he prevent his employer from losing a fortune, but he found him another deal, which was profitable far beyond what was anticipated. When the employer became aware of these events, he immediately doubled Herbst’s salary. He expected him to be extremely grateful, to say, “Many thanks to you, kind sir, for your great generosity.” Not only did he not thank him, but he said, “I’m sorry, sir, but unless I can become a partner, I will resign to go into business on my own.” The employer answered, “You can’t be a partner, since it is the custom in our family to include only relatives in the business. And, as you know, we are not related in any way.” Herbst said, “That need not present a problem. With your consent, I can become related to you and your family through your daughter.” The man was stunned into silence. Then he asked, “What will my daughter say about this?” Herbst answered, “I already have her word. Now we are asking for your consent.” Not long afterward, Moritz Herbst married the daughter of his employer, becoming a partner in a business that had been selling equipment to offices, banks, and stores for several generations. It had always been known as Rosenthal’s but would henceforth be known as Rosenthal and Co.
From the moment he became involved in the business, Herbst made an effort to adapt his manners to those of his employer, whom he regarded as a model Berliner, a title which since childhood signified real distinction. After marrying the daughter, he became more and more relaxed about the manners he had acquired in Berlin and reverted, though not consciously, to his earlier ways. After his father-in-law’s death, he took charge of the entire business. He became less careful about his language, sprinkling his conversation with Yiddish and Polish words from his childhood. He often reminisced about his town, describing it in detaiclass="underline" the teachers there who had studied in the great academies of Poznan and Lysa, and were so intimidating that the rabbis with doctorates didn’t dare to challenge them in matters of ritual slaughter or anything else pertaining to religion, although whatever the former allowed, the others forbade, and vice versa. Even his father, Manish, may he rest in peace, for whom Manfred was named, knew the basic texts and studied Mishnah every day in a group that included the town’s leading citizens, led by Rabbi Eliyahu Gutmacher. Moritz still had his father’s books though he himself had never studied very much, because his father had died when he was young. His mother had married a man whose son by his first wife was already enrolled in a teachers’ seminary and depended on his father for support, so there was no money to pay the stepson’s tuition. Though he didn’t study much Torah, Moritz Herbst was blessed by a man immersed in Torah and even received a coin from him.
This is what happened with the coin. It was the custom in Moritz’s town, and probably in many others like it, that, as long as no worm was seen in the cherries, they could be eaten without inspection. But, as soon as the first worm was seen, an announcement would be made in the rabbi’s name that the cherries had to be inspected. To facilitate this, the children were alerted to report to the rabbi when they saw the first worm. One year, he was the first to spot a worm in the cherries. He ran and informed the rabbi. The rabbi gave him a coin and blessed him, expressing the hope that he would grow up to follow the straight path, observing the Torah and commandments. Some of this blessing was fulfilled, but not all of it. He never veered from the straight path, but he was lax about the Torah and commandments. On the face of it, he kept kosher; his house was equipped with separate dishes for dairy and meat, as well as for Passover, but his wife occasionally “borrowed” a Passover dish for ordinary use without bothering to scour it properly before putting it back. Similarly, if some ritual question arose in the household, she didn’t take the trouble to consult an expert. Nevertheless, they considered themselves proper Jews until the Great War broke out, adding to the hardships of observant Jews and undermining those who were lax. At first these Jews were careful not to defile themselves with forbidden foods. But, as the war continued, food was in short supply. When they were lucky enough to find something to eat, they were no longer exacting about keeping kosher. If they found a food that needed to be certified, they didn’t ask whether it was certified, who the certifying rabbis were, or the source of their authority. In Herbst’s home, too, kosher standards were relaxed, because Moritz Herbst came down with one of those illnesses that became rampant in the wake of the war and was no longer able to oversee the household, while his wife from the very beginning wasn’t strict about these rules.
Moritz Herbst died from that illness. At this point, Manfred was a soldier in the war, knee-deep in blood, and none of the affairs of the world seemed meaningful to him, certainly not business. From the beginning, he was not groomed for business; his father had kept him at a distance from it, coaxing him to study instead. His mother, Amelia, though she was a merchant’s daughter, was not skilled in business either. Neither her father nor her husband had included her in it. As she couldn’t handle the business left to her by her husband, not only did she fail to derive profit from the store, the equipment, the accounts, and all the rest, but they were a burden to her. Neither mother nor son knew what to do with this inheritance. After consulting relatives, they sold the business for several thousand marks. Like most of the population, they were unaware that the value of the mark was declining steadily, so that a thousand marks were worth a hundred and a hundred marks were worth one. In the end, all that money was worthless.
As I mentioned, when his father died, Manfred was at the front. When he returned, he resumed his studies. A son whose father dies without leaving him any resources ought to learn a trade that can be a means of support. If he is eager for learning, he ought to pursue the sort of knowledge that can be a means of support after a few years’ study. But Manfred was drawn to a profession involving a great deal of effort and minimal return. While he was a student, he didn’t have to worry. Tuition had been provided for him. Even before he entered the university, an allowance had been set aside to cover his expenses. How? This is how it came about.
When Manfred’s father, Moritz, was a boy, his father died. His mother then married a man from Rawicz. The husband had a son by his first wife who was studying at the teachers’ seminary in Cologne. The husband joined his mother in her town. Moritz lived with his mother, while the son of his mother’s husband lived in Cologne, so they never saw each other. When Moritz grew up, he couldn’t find anything to do in his own town and went to seek his fortune elsewhere. He came to Berlin, where he had the good fortune to find a livelihood and a wife. He took over the first store that hired him, and the daughter of his employer became his wife.
Now that you have heard the story of Moritz Herbst, I’ll tell you his stepbrother’s story. His good fortune was not in abeyance either. He completed his studies and began teaching religion in a small town. His salary did not satisfy his material needs; teaching did not satisfy his spirit. He suffered, regretting both these facts, but he seemed resigned to his fate, like most teachers, who were in no way inferior to him. In the town where he taught religion, there was an agent for writing equipment and school supplies, whom he sometimes helped with his accounts, letter writing, and the like. Whatever he did was done with no thought of reward. In time, the salesman became paralyzed. His wife invited the teacher to help her with the business. He became the agent’s agent. The woman realized he was more adept than she was and left most of the business in his hands. Once he got a taste of commerce, he lost interest in the school.