“No; I have told you I never did approve of Sparta, which destroyed the individuality of every man, and turned her nation into nothing but a warlike machine. A plant will not grow in a pot too small for it, nor will a child constantly confined in swaddling clothes develop its physical nature freely. Mankind requires four things,—amusement, education, work, and physical exercise; and on these requirements I base my system of rule. All the year round, my people work for the well-being of the community, and these festivals, although they please them, are not without their objects. The first day is the pure amusement only of the vintage feast; during the second day, I educate their minds to understand the reason of their existence; and now, on this third day, they indulge in physical exercises, which keep them healthy, and also train them to defend their land from outside dangers.”
“You are a modern Solon!”
“The Solon of an unnoticed island,” replied Justinian, with a smile. “Well, you see, owing to the exigencies of modern life, I am forced to go in for quality rather than quantity—to rule a tribe instead of a nation—to govern an island rather than a continent. Nevertheless, you know the saying, ‘From small events, what mighty causes spring;’ so, perchance, my miniature government, when it develops into a larger one, may not be without some influence in this often misgoverned world.”
“Justinian,” said Maurice, with irrepressible curiosity, “who[“who] are you?”
“Demarch of Melnos.”
“Forgive me!” replied Maurice, flushing, as he noticed the pointed rebuke. “I know the question I have asked is a breach of good-breeding; but you are such a wonderful man, that I must be excused for wondering where you came from.”
“I am not angry at your question,” returned Justinian, touched by the frankness of the young man; “the spectacle of an old Englishman with such projects is, perhaps, calculated to arouse curiosity. However, I will promise to tell you all about myself when a certain event, which I dearly desire, comes to pass.”
“And that event?”
Justinian smiled meaningly, and let his eyes fall upon Helena, upon which Maurice flushed red with delight, and would have spoken, but that the wary old man shook his head, as a sign that he was to keep silence.
“Andros!” he whispered significantly; “another time.”