[1] He was executed in 1795.
The events which we have detailed had their due share of influence in forming Pruzsinsky's character. Naturally severe and independent, it was by misfortune rendered harsh and all but repulsive. Baron Eötvös chose this man to be a tutor to his son, because he expected (and not without some show of reason) that the tutor's severity and his unamiable character would disgust his pupil with the political ideas of which he was the advocate and the martyr. But the boy took a liking to his master, in spite of the harshness and coldness of the latter; and an event which at that time took place gave Pruzsinsky an opportunity of gaining a still stronger hold on his pupil's mind. Joseph Eötvös was sent to a public school just at the period when every liberal speaker in parliament denounced his family name, and when the country cursed it. The boys shunned young Joseph; the form on which he sat was deserted, and though he would fain have considered this circumstance as a mark of respect, paid to him as the only member of the aristocracy that his school could boast of, he was soon given to understand that there is some difference between honouring a peer and sending him to Coventry. His grandfather, too, on visiting the school, was received by the boys with unmistakeable signs of disrespect; and when young Eötvös demanded an explanation, he was told that his grandfather was a traitor. "And you, too, are a traitor," added they. "You are almost thirteen years of age, and you cannot speak Hungarian. We are sure you will be a traitor!" Young Joseph was not a little shocked at this prediction, and of course consulted his tutor about the likelihood of its ever coming true. Pruzsinsky said simply, that the boys were right, and continued grinding his pupil in Cornelius Nepos and the Latin grammar. But Joseph's mind was not what it had been. He studied the Hungarian language, and devoted his attention to the political conversations in his father's salon, asking his tutor for an explanation of those things which he did not understand. Thus, for instance, he asked why the decease of the Count N. was so greatly lamented? "Who was the Count N.?" "The Count N.," said Pruzsinsky, "was, by his talents and learning, one of the most eminent men in Hungary: his character was odious. He filled a high post in the state. As for you, boy, you will never equal him in spirit and knowledge." A fortnight afterwards the tutor asked whether Count N.'s death was still the subject of conversation; and when Joseph replied that nobody thought of it, Pruzsinsky said: "This is well. That man has been dead a fortnight, and nobody remembers his death, in spite of his talents. The society to which he sacrificed his name and his honour wants but two weeks to forget his existence. Mark this, boy, and see what thanks you will get from the noble and great!" At another time Pruzsinsky took his pupil to the green behind the Castle at Buda, on which his five friends had been executed. "Here," said he, "they shed the blood of five true friends of the country. No monument marks the spot where they bled and lie buried, but the feet of the passing crowd have worn the green into the form of a cross, and thus marked the place. The time will come when these men will have their monument. That monument will be a triumphal arch for the liberated people—it will be a gallows for those who opposed our liberties!"
Words like these were calculated to make a deep impression on the mind of young Eötvös, who manifested his political conversion by addressing his schoolfellows in an Hungarian oration, by which he informed them that, though his ancestors had served the house of Austria, and betrayed the interests of Hungary, he (the Baron Joseph Eötvös) was resolved to atone at once for the crime of his fathers, and that he (the said Baron Eötvös) meant to be "liberty's servant, and his country's slave." The boys received this speech with the greatest enthusiasm. They rushed up to the master's desk, which the young orator had converted into a tribune, and, seizing the object of their admiration, lifted him on their shoulders, and carried him to the next coffee-house!
But, alas! how short is the step from the capitol to the Tarpeian rock! The procession had no sooner reached its destination than the school-master's servant appeared to arrest the speaker. His début began on the master's desk; it ended in the black hole.
Amidst these, and similar impressions, passed the boyhood of Baron Eötvös. In the year 1826 the Emperor Francis was compelled to conciliate the good will of the Hungarian parliament. He reiterated his promise to respect the constitutional rights of the country. The season of popular excitement was over, and the hatred to the name of Eötvös grew gradually less. In 1829, the Count Széchenyi published his plans of reform; the old aristocratic opposition of Hungary became a liberal opposition, and the party of national progress grew in strength and numbers. The youth of Hungary joined this latter party. Tours to foreign countries became the order of the day with all young men of education. Baron Eötvös, too, made the grand tour of Europe. He was amiable, and a great favourite with women; some of his occasional pieces had introduced him to the public as a poet; he was rich,—in short, he had all that is requisite to act a brilliant part in the capitals of the Continent.
In the course of the carnival of 1837, Baron Eötvös, who was then at Paris, was invited by a young Frenchman to accompany him to Mademoiselle le Normand, the notorious Parisian soothsayer. The poet consented; and leaving a brilliant and merry party in the Faubourg du Roule, the two young men repaired to the house of the mysterious lady. Mademoiselle le Normand, after gazing long and earnestly at the handsome face of our hero, said at length, "You are rich. The day will come when you will be poor. You will marry a rich woman. You will be a minister of state in your own country. You will die on the scaffold." Nothing was so unlikely as this prophecy: Baron Eötvös was greatly amused with it, and after his return to Hungary, he used to tell the anecdote for the amusement of his friends.
The financial crisis of 1841, and the money speculations of the old Baron Eötvös, led the family to the brink of ruin. Joseph Eötvös was compelled to live by his pen; anywhere but in England and France, the bread of literature is poverty indeed. In 1842, he married an amiable and accomplished woman; but still he smiled at Mademoiselle le Normand's prophecy. As a peer and as a public writer, he belonged to the extreme opposition; and although his party had the greatest influence in the country, there was no reason to suppose that it would ever be called upon to grasp the reins of government. The movements of the year 1848 changed the aspect of affairs and the position of parties. A cabinet was formed under the auspices of the Count Batthyany; and Joseph Baron Eötvös was one of the members of that cabinet. In the month of August the political horizon of Hungary became clouded: Jellachich, the Ban of Croatia, prepared to invade our country. The duplicity of the Vienna Cabinet became daily more manifest. The landsturm assembled in Pesth. The Count Lamberg fell a victim to the unbridled passions of the people. The Croatians advanced almost to the very gates of Buda. Le Normand's prophecy came home to Baron Eötvös's mind, and scared him to Vienna. But he had scarcely reached the Austrian capital, when the revolution of October broke out. Eötvös fled. He hastened to Munich, and remained in voluntary exile, without taking any active interest in the fate of his country and the wayward fortunes of his friends. His career as a statesman is ended for many years to come. It is to be hoped that his faculties as a writer will survive the blow which crushed his country; and that his countrymen will have many a song and a few more novels from so clever and spirited a pen. It is the pleasing office of fiction to reconcile us to the anxieties and misfortunes of real matter-of-fact life. May my friend succeed in pouring balm into the fresh wounds of the country; and may his works alleviate, though it be but for a moment, the anguish which in this season of sorrows eats into the heart of every Hungarian!
Francis Pulszky.
THE VILLAGE NOTARY.
CHAPTER I.
The traveller in the districts on the lower Theiss, however narrow the circle of his peregrinations, may be said to be familiar with the whole of that part of Hungary. Some families boast of the resemblance, not to say the identity, of their members. To distinguish one from another, we must see them long and often. The case of these districts is very much the