Caliphronas smiled at receiving this compliment, which was intended to further blind him to the reality of Justinian’s feelings towards him. “There is nothing I should like better than to become a leader in reality,” he said gayly; “to inspire my countrymen with the desire of once more making Hellas supreme queen of the world.” “Of the intellectual world?” “Or the material—it matters not which.” “Pardon me, but it matters a great deal,” replied Justinian quickly. “Politically, Greece has a place among the Powers—she has a constitution and a king. So, as far as material prosperity goes, I wish not to meddle with her, but my aim is to revive her intellectuality, and Crispin’s play was entirely written to illustrate that point. Hellas will never be a modern Roman empire—she never was an all-conquering power, and her strength lay in the brains, not in the hands of her sons. After all, is it not greater to control the minds than the bodies of men?” “You want to turn Hellas into a school.” “The pen is mightier than the sword,” rejoined Justinian sententiously. “Let other nations be merchants and warriors, while Greece reasserts her ancient vocation of teacher. An aptitude for a special line is as true of the many as of the one. You would not give the lyre to the soldier nor the sword to the poet, so every race should exercise the talents with which it is especially gifted; not, of course, to the exclusion of others, but make its peculiar gift its greatest aim. At present, the great human family of Europe is in a state of transition, and, unaware of each other’s aims, are watchfully in arms the one against the other. Let us hope that before the end of the twentieth century they will recognize that one special faculty predominates in every nation, and permit each other to cultivate that special faculty.” “What!” exclaimed Maurice, somewhat astonished, “would you have the English nothing but shopkeepers and colonizers—the French, a nation of warriors—the Germans, philosophers only, and the Italians, musicians? That, indeed, would narrow down the talents of the world to one special field each.” “You do not understand me, Maurice,” said Justinian impatiently. “I quite agree that every nation should have its own literature, art, music, philosophy, and drama, but the one special gift of the race should be cultivated more than the others; it should be made a state law—a political necessity. However, this question admits of much argument, and we have no time to argue now, but, in illustration that I am not so narrow-minded as you think, I will merely point out, that I educate my Greeks in military and civil occupations quite as much as I attend to their intellectuality.” “After all,” said Caliphronas pointedly, “only civil occupations, such as touch agriculture, are necessary, for intellectuality is yet in the future with us, and it is not likely Melnos will ever require to resort to arms.”