Apparently he was diverted from art to literature by a trifle; but in
the light of later developments it is simple enough to see which was
really the greater force working within. The Academy of Arts and
Sciences, founded by Szécheni, offered a prize for the best drama, and
Jókay won it. He was then seventeen, for careers began early in olden
times. When twenty-one his first novel, "Work Days," met with great
applause; other romances quickly followed, and, as they dealt with the
social and political tendencies that fanned the revolution into flame
two years later, their success was instantaneous. His true
representations of Hungarian life and character, his passionate love of
liberty, his lofty idealism for his crushed and lethargic country,
aroused a great wave of patriotism like a call to arms, and consecrated
him to work with his pen for the freedom of the common people.
Henceforth paint-brushes were cast aside.

Pétofi and Jókay, teeming with great ideas, quickly attracted other
writers and young men of the university about them, and, each helping
the other, brought about a bloodless revolution that secured, among
other inestimable boons, the freedom of a censored, degraded press. And
yet the only act of violence these young revolutionists committed was in
entering a printing establishment and setting up with their own hands
the type for Pétofi's poem, that afterward became the war-song of the
national movement. At that very establishment was soon to be printed a
proclamation granting twelve of their dearest wishes to the people. From
this time Jókay changed the spelling of his name to Jókai, _y_ being a
badge of nobility hateful to disciples of the doctrine of liberty,
fraternity, equality.

About this time Jókai married the Rachel of the Hungarian stage, Rosa
Laborfalvy. The portrait of her that hangs in her husband's famous