For the last years of his life, Frantisek Jehlicka placed a copy of a painting by the Italian baroque artist Pompeo Girolamo Batoni on the walls of his cell in the Capuchin monastery in Vienna. The painting, completed in 1773 and entitled 'The Return of the Prodigal Son', portrays a father tenderly embracing his long-lost and half-naked son who, according to the famous parable, had taken 'his journey into a far country, and […] began to be in want'.1 It is likely that Jehlicka first came across the painting in the House of Habsburg's Imperial and Royal Gallery in Vienna's Belvedere Palace where it was hung following its acquisition by the Empress Maria Theresa. Jehlicka, a devout Catholic who had committed himself to becoming a priest at the age of fifteen, may have seen himself in Batoni's painting as the wandering son who could look forward to the moment, at the end of his life, when he would be welcomed with open arms by his Father in heaven.2 Alternatively, Jehlicka's attraction to Batoni's painting may be explained by his estrangement from his fellow Slovaks that led him to reside in Vienna's Capuchin monastery. Exiled from Czechoslovakia in 1919 due to his hostility to the new state, Jehlicka regarded himself as a 'spiritual father' forced to watch his beloved Slovak nation condemned to a life of want. In Batoni's moving depiction of the act of reconciliation, Jehlicka may have found the comforting hope that he too would eventually be reconciled with his fellow Slovaks. Both his detractors and his admirers have, however, disagreed about what form of reconciliation he actually desired. Did he hope to be welcomed back to an independent Slovakia as a national hero, or did he hope to welcome the Slovaks back into a greater Hungary from which they had been separated in 1918?.