Various
Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, February, 1885
RONSARD: ON THE CHOICE
OF HIS TOMB
“Antres, et vous fontaines.”
BY J. P. M
Ye caverns, and ye founts
That from these rocky mounts
Well forth, and fall below
With glassy flow;
Ye forests, and ye waves
Whose stream these meadows laves;
Ye banks and copses gay,
Hear ye my lay.
When Heaven and my last sun
Shall tell my race is run,
Snatched from the dwelling bright
Of common light;
No marble chiselled be,
That boastfulness may see
A grander pomp illume
My lowly tomb.
But may, in marble’s stead,
Some tree with shading head
Uplift its leafy screen,
For ever green.
And from me, grant, O Earth!
An ivy plant its birth,
In close embraces bound
My body round:
And may enwreathing vine
To deck my tomb entwine,
That all around be made
A trellised shade.
Thither shall swains, each year,
On my feast-day draw near,
With lowing herds in view, —
A rustic crew;
Who, hailing first the light
With Eucharistic rite,
Addressing thus the Isle,5
Shall sing, the while: —
“How splendid is thy fame,
O tomb, to own the name
Of one, who fills with verse
The Universe!
“Who never burned with fire
Of envious desire
For glorious Fate affords
To mighty lords;
“Nor ever taught the use
Of love-compelling juice;
Nor ancient magic art
Did e’er impart;
“But gave our meads to see
The Sister Graces three
Dance o’er the swarded plains
To his sweet strains.
“Because he made his lyre
Such soft accords respire,
As filled us and our place
With his own grace.
“May gentle manna fall,
For ever, on his pall;
And dews, exhaled in May,
At close of day.
“Be turf, and murmuring wave,
The fence around his grave:
Wave, ever flowing seen —
Turf, ever green.
“And we, whose hearts so well
His noble fame can tell,
As unto Pan, will bear
Honors, each year.”
So will that choir strike up;
Pouring from many a cup
A lamb’s devoted blood,
With milky flood,
O’er me, who then shall be
Of that High City free,
Where happy souls possess
Their blissfulness.
Hail hurtles not, nor there
Fall snow, in that mild air;
Nor thunder-stroke o’erwhelms
Those hallowed realms:
But evermore is seen
To reign, unfading green;
And, ever blossoming,
The lovely Spring.
Nor there do they endure
The lusts that kings allure
Their ruined neighbors’ State
To dominate:
Like brothers they abide;
And, though on earth they died,
Pursue the tasks they set
While living yet.
There, there, Alcæus’ lyre
I’ll hear, of wrathful fire;
And Sappho’s chords, which fall
Sweeter than all.
How those blest souls, whose ear
Shall strains so chanted hear,
In gladness must abound
At that sweet sound;
When Sisyphus the shock
Forgetteth, of his rock;
And Tantalus by thirst
Is no more curst!
The sole delicious Lyre
Fulfils the heart’s desire;
And charms, with joy intense,
The listening sense.
– Blackwood’s Magazine.
WÜRZBURG AND VIENNA: SCRAPS FROM A DIARY
BY EMILE DE LAVELEYE
II
I arrive at Vienna at 10 o’clock and alight at the “Münsch” hotel, a very old-established one, and very preferable, in my opinion, to those gigantic and sumptuous “Ring” establishments where one is a mere number. I find awaiting me a letter from the Baron de Neumann, my colleague of the University of Vienna, and a member of the Institut de Droit International. He informs me that the Minister Taaffe will await me at 11 o’clock, and the Minister for Foreign Affairs, M. de Kálnoky, at 3 p. m. It is always well to make the acquaintance of Ministers when visiting foreign countries. It is the means of obtaining the key to doors generally closed, to consulting documents otherwise inaccessible, and to getting out of prison if by mistake you happen to be one day thrown therein.
The Home Office is a sombre-looking palace, situated in the Judenplatz, a dark and narrow street in old Vienna; the apartments are spacious, correct but bare; the furniture severe, simple but pure eighteenth century style. It resembles the abode of an ancient family who must live carefully to keep out of debt. How different to the Government Offices in Paris, where luxury is displayed everywhere in gilt panellings, Lyons velvets, painted ceilings and magnificent staircases – as, for instance, at the Financial and Foreign Offices. I prefer the simplicity of the official buildings of Vienna and Berlin. The State ought not to set an example of prodigality. The Comte Taaffe is in evening dress, as he is going to a conference with the Emperor. He, nevertheless, receives my letter of introduction from one of his cousins most amiably, and also the little note I bring him from my friend Neumann, who was his professor of public law. The present policy of the Prime Minister, which gives satisfaction to the Tscheks and irritates the Germans so much, is not unjustifiable. He reasons thus: – What is the best means to ensure the comfort and contentment of several persons living together in the same house? Is it not to leave them perfectly free to regulate their lives just as they think well? Force them to live all in the same way to take their meals and amuse themselves together, and they will be certain, very shortly, to quarrel and separate. How is it that the Italians of the Canton of Tesino never think of uniting with Italy? Because they are perfectly satisfied to belong to Switzerland. Remember that Austria’s motto is Viribus unitis. True union would be born of general contentment. The sure way to satisfy all is to sacrifice the rights of none. “Yes,” I said, “if unity could be made to spring from liberty and autonomy it would be indestructible.”
Count Taaffe has long been in favor of federalism. Under the Taaffe-Potoçki Ministry, in 1869, he had sketched a plan of reforms with the object of extending the sway of provincial governments.6 In some articles in the Revue des Deux Mondes, in 1868-9 I tried to show that this was the best solution of the question. Count Taaffe is still young; he was born in 1833, Feb. 24. He is descended from an Irish family and is a peer of that country, with the title of Viscount Taaffe of Correw and Baron of Ballymote; but his ancestors left their home and lost their Irish estates on account of their attachment to the Stuarts. They took service, then, under the Dukes of Lorraine, and one of them distinguished himself at the siege of Vienna in 1683. Count Edward, the present Minister, was born at Prague. His father was President of the Supreme Court of Justice. He himself commenced his career in the Hungarian Administration under the Baron Bach, who, seeing his great aptitudes and his perseverance, procured him rapid advancement. Taaffe became successively Vice-Governor of Bohemia, Governor of Salzburg, and finally Governor of Upper Austria. Called to the Ministry of the Interior in 1867, he signed the famous “Ausgleich” of December 21, which forms the basis of the present Dual Empire. After the fall of the Ministry, he was appointed Governor of the Tyrol, and held that post to general satisfaction for a space of seven years. On his return to power he again took up the portfolio of the Interior, and was also appointed President of the Council. He continued to pursue his federalist policy, but with more success than in 1869. The concessions he makes to the Tscheks are a subject of both grief and wonder in Vienna. It is said that he does it to secure their votes for the revision of the law of primary education in favor of reactionary clericalism. Those who are of this opinion must forget that he has clearly shown his leaning to federalism for more than sixteen years.
What is more astonishing is the contradiction between Austria’s home and foreign policy. At home the Slav movement is encouraged. All is conceded to it, with the exception of the re-establishment of the realm of St. Wenceslas, the road to which is, however, being prepared. Abroad, on the contrary, and especially beyond the Danube, this movement is opposed and suppressed as much as possible, even at the risk of dangerously increasing Russia’s influence and popularity. This contradiction may be explained after this wise. The “Common” Ministry of the Empire is entirely independent of the Ministry of Cis-Leithania. This “Common” Ministry, presided over by the Chancellor, is composed of three Ministers – viz., those of Foreign Affairs, Finances, and War; it alone settles foreign policy, and the Hungarian element is dominant here. Count Taaffe’s principal residence is at Ellisham in Bohemia. “Bailli” of the Order of Malta, he possesses the Golden Fleece. He is, in fact, in every respect, an important personage. In 1860 he married the Countess Irma de Czaky of Keresztszegk, by whom he has had a son and five daughters. He has, thus, one foot in Bohemia and the other in Hungary. All unanimously admit his extraordinary aptitudes, his indefatigable energy, and his clever administration; but in Vienna they complain that he is too aristocratic, and has too great a weakness for the clergy. Probably a statue as high as the Hradsin Cathedral will be raised in his honor at Prague, if he persuades the Emperor to be crowned there.
At three o’clock I proceeded to see Count Kálnoky at the Foreign Office in the Ballplatz. It is very well situated, near to the Imperial residence, in a wide street, and in sight of the Ring. Large reception rooms, solemn-looking and cold; gilded chairs and white and gold panellings, red curtains, polished floorings, and no carpets. On the walls, portraits of the Imperial family. While waiting to be announced, I think of Metternich. It was here he resided. In 1812 Austria decided the fall of Napoleon. Now, again, she holds in her hands the destinies of Europe; for the balance changes as she moves towards the north, the east, or the west; and I am about to see the Minister who directs her foreign policy. I expected to find myself in the presence of an imposing-looking person, with white hair, and very stiff; so I was agreeably surprised on being most affably received by a man of about forty, dressed in a brown morning suit, with a blue cravat. An open and very pleasing expression, and eyes brimming over with wit. All the Kálnoky family have this particularity, it appears. He possesses the quiet, refined, yet simple and modest distinction of manner of an English nobleman. Like many Austrians of the upper class, he speaks French like a Parisian. I think this is due to their speaking six or seven languages equally well, so that the particular accent of each becomes neutralized. The English and the Germans, even when they know French thoroughly, have still a foreign accent when speaking it; not so the Austrians. Count Kálnoky asks what are my plans for my journey. When he hears that I intend studying the question of the Eastern railways, he says:
“That is our great preoccupation at the present moment. In the West they pretend that we are anxious for conquest. This is absurd. It would be very difficult for us to make any which would satisfy the two parties in the Empire, and it is in fact greatly to our interest that peace should be maintained. But we are dreaming of different sorts of conquests, which, as an economist, you can but approve. I speak of conquests we are desirous of making for our industries, trade, and civilization. For this to be possible, we want railways in Servia, Bulgaria, Bosnia, and Macedonia; and, above all, a connection with the Ottoman lines. Engineers and diplomatists are already at work, and will soon succeed, I hope. I do not think any one will complain or throw blame on us when a Pullman car takes him comfortably from Paris to Constantinople in three days. We are working for the benefit of the Western world.”
It has been said that speech was given to diplomatists to conceal their thoughts. I believe, though, that when Austrian statesmen deny any ideas of conquest and annexation in the East, they are expressing the true intentions of the Imperial Government. The late Chancellor de Haymerlé expressed similar opinions when I saw him in Rome in 1879, and in a letter which I received from him shortly before his death. Baron Haymerlé was better acquainted with the East and the Balkan Peninsula than any one. He had lived there many years, first as dragoman of the Austrian Embassy, and afterwards as a Government envoy, and he was a perfect master of all the different languages of the East.
The present Chancellor, Count Kálnoky, of Körospatak, is of Hungarian origin, as his name indicates; but he was born at Littowitz, in Moravia, December 29, 1832. Most of his landed estates are in that province, amongst others Prödlitz, Ottaslawitz and Szabatta. He has several brothers, and a very lovely sister who has been twice married, first to Count Jean Waldstein, the widower of a Zichy, who was already 62 years of age, and, secondly, to the Duke of Sabran. Chancellor Kálnoky’s career has been very extraordinary. He left the army in 1879, with the grade of Colonel, and took up diplomacy. He obtained a post at Copenhagen, where he appeared destined to play a very insignificant part in political affairs. Shortly after, however, he was appointed to St. Petersburg, the most important of all diplomatic posts, and, on the death of Haymerlé, he was called to Vienna as Foreign Minister, and thus in three years he advanced from the position of a cavalry officer, brilliant and elegant it is true, but with no political influence, to be the arbiter of the destinies of the Austrian Empire, and consequently of those of Europe. How may this marvellously rapid advancement, reminding one of the tales of the Grand Viziers in the “Arabian Nights,” be accounted for? It is generally considered to be due to Andrassy’s friendship. But the real truth is very little known. Count Kálnoky is even cleverer as a writer than as speaker. His despatches from foreign Courts were really finished models. The Emperor, a most indefatigable and conscientious worker, reads all the despatches from the Ambassadors, and was much struck with those from St. Petersburg, noting Kálnoky as destined to fill high functions in the State. At St. Petersburg he charmed every one by his wit and amiability, and in spite of the distrust felt for his country became persona grata at the Court there. When he became Chancellor, the Emperor gave him the rank of Major-General.
It was thought in the beginning that his friendship for Russia might lead him to come to terms with that Power, and perhaps also with France, and to break off the alliance with Germany; but Kálnoky does not forget that he is Hungarian and the friend of Andrassy, and that the pivot of Hungarian policy, since 1866, has been a close alliance with Berlin. In the summer of 1883 the German papers more than once expressed vague doubts as to Austria’s fidelity, and public opinion at Vienna, and more especially as Pesth, was rather astir on the subject. Kálnoky’s visit to Gastein, where the Emperor Wilhelm showed him every mark of affection, and his interview with M. de Bismarck, where everything was satisfactorily explained, completely silenced these rumors. At the present, the young Minister’s position is exceedingly secure. He enjoys the Emperor’s full confidence, and, apparently, that of the nation also, for, in the last session of the Trans-and Cis-Leithanian Delegations he was acclaimed by all parties, even by the Tscheks who are just now dominant in Cis-Leithania. Count Kálnoky is hitherto unmarried, which fact, it is said, renders Vienna mothers despairing and husbands uneasy.
I pass my evenings at the Salm-Lichtensteins’. I had already the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the Altgräfin in Florence, and I am very glad to have an opportunity of meeting her husband, a member of Parliament very deeply interested in the Tscheko-German question. He belongs to the Austrian Liberal party, and severely blames Taaffe’s policy, and the alliance that the Feudal party, and especially members of his own and of his wife’s families, have concluded with the ultra-Tscheks. “Their aim is,” he says, “to obtain the same situation for Bohemia as for Hungary. The Emperor would go to Prague to receive the crown of St. Wenceslas. An autonomous government would be re-established in Bohemia under the direction of a Diet, as in Hungary. The Empire would become triune instead of dual. Save for questions common to all, the three States would be independent of each other, united only in the person of the Sovereign. Such an arrangement answered admirably in the Middle Ages, when it was usual; but at the present day, when we are surrounded on all sides by great united Powers, as France, Russia, Prussia and Italy, it is senseless to advocate it. I admit of federation for small neutral States like Switzerland, or for a large country embracing an entire Continent, like the United States; but I consider that for Austria, situated, as she is, in the heart of Europe, exposed on all sides to complications and to the greed and envyings of her many neighbors, it would be absolute perdition. My good friends of the Feudal party, supported by the clergy, hope that when autonomy is established in Bohemia, and the country is completely withdrawn from the influence of the Liberals of the Central Parliament, they themselves will be the masters there, and the former order of things will be reset on foot. I think they make a very great mistake. I believe that when the Tscheks have attained the end they have in view, they will turn against their present allies. They are at heart all democrats, varying in shade from pale pink to bright scarlet; but all will band together against the aristocracy and the clergy, and will make common cause with the German population of our towns, who are almost all Liberals. The country inhabitants would also in a great measure join them, and thus the aristocracy and the clergy would be inevitably vanquished. If necessary the ultra-Tscheks would call up the memories of John Huss and of Ziska, to ensure the triumph of their party.
“Strange to say,” he continues, “the majority of the old families heading the national movement in Bohemia are of German origin, and do not even speak the language they wish to be made official. The Hapsburg dynasty, our capital, our civilization, the initiative and persistent perseverance to which Austria owes its creation – are not all these Germanic? In Hungary, German, the language of our Emperor, is forbidden; it is excluded also in Gallicia, in Croatia, and will soon be so also in Carinthia, in Transylvania, and in Bohemia. The present policy is perilous in every respect. It is deeply wounding to the German element, which is nothing less than the enlightened classes, commerce, money – the power, in fact, of modern times. If autonomy is established in Bohemia, it will deliver over the clergy and the aristocracy to the Tschek democrats and Hussites.”
“All that you say,” I answer, “is perfectly clear. I can offer but one objection, which is: that from time to time in the affairs of humanity certain irresistible currents are to be met with. They are so irresistible that nothing subdues them, and any impediment in their way merely serves to increase their force. The nationality movement is one of these. See what a prodigious reawakening! One might almost compare it to the resurrection of the dead. Idioms buried hitherto in darkness spring forth into light and glory. What was the German language in the eighteenth century, when Frederick boasted that he ignored it, and prided himself on writing French as perfectly as Voltaire? True, it was Luther’s language; yet it was not spoken by the upper and educated classes. Forty years ago, what was the Hungarian tongue? The despised dialect of the pastors of the Puzta. German was the only language spoken in good society and in Government offices, and, at the Diet, Latin. At the present day the Magyar dialect is the language of the press, of the parliament, of the theatre, of science, of academies, of the university, of poetry, and of fiction; henceforth the recognized and exclusive official language, it is imposed even upon the inhabitants of Croatia or Transylvania, who have no wish for it. Tschek is gradually securing for itself the same place in Bohemia as Magyar had attained in Hungary. A similar phenomenon is taking place in Croatia, the dialect there, formerly merely a popular patois, now possesses a university at Agram, poets and philologists, a national press, and a theatre. The Servian tongue, which is merely Croatian written in Cyrillic characters, has become the official, literary, parliamentary, and scientific language of Servia. It is in precisely the same position as its elder brothers, French and German, in their respective countries. It is the same for the Bulgarian idiom in Bulgaria and Roumelia, for the Romanian in Romania, for Polish in Galicia, for Finn in Finland, and soon also in Flanders, where, as elsewhere, the literary reawakening precedes political claims. With a constitutional government, the nationality party is sure to triumph, because there is a constant struggle between the political opponents as to which shall make the most concessions in order to secure votes for themselves. This has been also the case in Ireland. Tell me, do you think it possible that any Government would be able to suppress so deeply grounded, so universal a movement, whose root is in the very heart of long-enslaved races, and which must fatally develop as what is called modern civilization progresses? What is to be done, then, to quell this irresistible pressing forward of races all claiming their place in the sunshine? Centralize and compress them, as Schmerlíng and Bach tried to do? It is too late for that now. The only thing is to make compromises with these divers nationalities, as Count Taaffe is trying to do, being careful, at the same time, to protect the rights of the minority.
“But,” answers the Altgraf, “in Bohemia we Germans are in a minority, the Tscheks could crush us mercilessly·”
The following day I called on M. de V., an influential Conservative member of Parliament. He appears to me even more distressed than Count Salm.
“An Austrian of the old school, a sincere black and yellow, I am, and even, says M. de V., what you call in your extraordinary Liberal jargon, a Reactionist. My attachment to the Imperial family is absolute, as being the common centre of all parties in the State. I am attached to Count Taaffe, because he is the representative of Conservative principles; but I deplore his federalistic policy, which, if pursued, will certainly lead to the disintegration of the Empire. My audacity even goes so far as to declare that Metternich was a clever man. Our good friends, the Italians, reproached him with having said that Italy is a mere geographical expression. But of our empire, which he made so powerful, and, on the whole, so happy, not even that will be left, if this system of chopping it into pieces be followed much longer. It will become a kaleidoscope instead of a State, a mere collection of dissolving views. Do you recollect Dante’s lines?
‘Quivi sospiri, pianti ed alti guai
Risonavan per l’aer senza stelle.
Diverse lingue, orribile favelle,
Parole di dolore, accenti d’ira,
Voci alte e fioche, e suon di man con elle.’
“This is the state of things that is being prepared for us. You would hardly, perhaps, believe that this mania is now so violently raging that the Germans in Bohemia, dreading the future power of the Tscheks, have requested autonomy for that portion of the country where they are in a majority. On the other hand the Tscheks would never suffer the division of their realm of St. Wenceslas, so this is another cause of quarrel. This struggle of races is but a return to barbarous ages. You are a Belgian and I an Austrian; could we not therefore agree to manage a business or direct an institution together?” “Of course,” I reply. “When a certain degree of culture is attained, the important point is conformity of feeling rather than a common language, but at the outset, language is the means of arriving at intellectual culture. The motto of one of our Flemish societies affirms this most energetically: De taal is het volk (‘Language is everything for a people’). In my opinion, reason and virtue are the important points, but without language and letters there can be no progress in civilization.”
I take note of a curious little incident, which shows how exceedingly bitter this animosity of races has become. The Tscheks of Vienna, who number about 30,000 requested a grant from the town council to assist them to found a school, where the instruction would be given in their language. The Rector of the University of that city spoke in favor of this request at the meeting of the council. The students of the Tschek University of Prague, apprised of this, forwarded him a vote of thanks; but in what language? Not in Tschek, the Rector would not have understood a word; nor in German the language of the oppressors; in French, as being a foreign idiom and neutral everywhere. The vote – certainly very justifiable – of the Rector in favor of a Tschek school in Vienna, was so highly disapproved of by his colleagues that he was forced to resign his post.
I go next to see Baron von Neumann, one of the pillars of our Institute of International Law. Besides his vast legal knowledge he possesses the precious faculty of speaking all European languages with equal facility, and has also at his disposal a treasure of quotations from the most varied literature. In the different towns in which the Institute has met, he has replied to the authorities appointed to receive us in their own language, and generally as fluently as a native. Baron Neumann takes me to the University of which he is one of the chief ornaments. It is situated quite near the Cathedral, and is a very ancient building, which will shortly be abandoned for the sumptuous edifice in course of construction on the Ring. I am introduced to Professor Lorenz von Stein, author of the best work that has ever been written on Socialism, “Der Socialismus in Frankreich,” and also several works on public law and political economy, which are very highly considered in Germany. I am also very pleased to make the acquaintance of my youthful colleague M. Schleinitz, who has just published an important work on the development of landed property. Baron Neumann transmits me a letter from Baron Kállay, the Financial Minister, appointing an interview with me before I leave; but I see first M. de Serres, the director of the Austrian railways, who will be able to give me some details as to the connection between the Hungarian and Servian and the Ottoman lines: a question of the very first importance for the future of the East, and which I have promised myself to study.
The Austrian Railway Companies’ offices are in a palace on the Place Schwarzenberg, the finest part of the Ring. Their interior arrangements are quite in keeping with the outside appearance. Immense white marble staircases, spacious and comfortable offices, and the furniture in the reception-rooms all velvet and gold. What a contrast between this modern luxury and the simplicity of the Ministerial offices! It is the symbol of a serious economic revolution. Industry takes priority of politics. M. de Serres spreads out a map of the railway system on the table. “See,” he says, “this is the direct line from Pesth to Belgrade; it crosses the Danube at Peterwardein and the Save at Semlin; it was necessary therefore to construct two immense bridges, the piles of which have been constructed by the Fives-Lille Company. The Belgrade-Nisch section will be very soon inaugurated. At Nisch there will be a bifurcation of two lines, one continues to Sofia and the other, branching off, joins the Salonica-Nitrovitza branch at Uskub or at Varosch. The line is to run along the Upper Morava by Lescovatz and Vraina. The latter town can then be easily connected with Varosch on the Salonica line, the distance between these two places being quite trifling. This branch line, which will be quickly terminated, is of capital importance. It will be the nearest route to Athens, and even to Egypt and the extreme East; and will ultimately, in all probability, beat not only Marseilles but Brindisi. The other section of the line, from Nisch to Sofia and Constantinople, presents great difficulties. In the first place, the Pass through which the Nischava flows before reaching Pirot is so wild, narrow, and savage, as to challenge the skill of our engineers. Then, after leaving Pirot, the line must rise over some of the last heights of the Balkans to reach the plain of Sofia; the rocks here, too, are very bad. Beyond, on the high plateau, there will be no difficulty, and a line was half completed by the Turks ten years ago, between Sofia and Sarambay (the terminus of their system); fifteen or sixteen months would suffice to finish it. To be brief, this year we shall be able to go by rail all through Servia as far as Nisch. A year later, if no time be lost, we shall reach Salonica, and, two years afterwards, Constantinople.”
I thanked M. de Serres for all these interesting details. “The completion of these lines,” I said, “will be an event of capital interest for the Eastern world. It will be the signal for an economic transformation far otherwise important than political combinations, and will hasten the accomplishment of an inevitable result – the development and the supremacy of the dominant races. Your Austrian railways and Hungary will be the first to benefit, but very soon the whole of Europe will share the advantages which will accrue from the civilization of the Balkan peninsula.”
I call after this on Baron Kállay. I am very pleased to have an opportunity of seeing him, for I am told on all sides that he is one of the most distinguished statesmen of the empire. He is a pure Magyar, descended from one of Arpad’s companions, who came to Hungary towards the close of the ninth century. They must have been a careful and thrifty family, for they have been successful in retaining their fortune, an excellent precedent for a Financial Minister! When quite young, Kállay displayed an extraordinary taste for learning, and he was anxious to know everything; he worked very hard at the Slav and Eastern languages, and translated Stuart Mill’s “Liberty” into Magyar, and for his literary labor he obtained the honor of being nominated a member of the Hungarian Academy.