which results from his agreements and compacts. Natural Law remains ever the same, but institutions change. While the study of abstract justice, apart from all that has its origin in the will or consent of men, would enable us to create a complete system of jurisprudence, there is another source which must not be neglected, since men have established the sanctity of certain rules of conduct by solemn convention.

The Law of Nations does not consist, therefore, of a mere body of deductions derived from general principles of justice, for there is also a body of doctrine based upon CONSENT; and it is this system of voluntarily recognized obligations which distinguishes international jurisprudence from mere ethical speculation or moral theory. There are CUSTOMS of nations as well as a universally accepted law of nature, and it is in this growth of practically recognized rules of procedure that we trace the evolution of law international—jus inter gentes—as a body of positive jurisprudence.

It is evident that the mind of Grotius is continually struggling to establish a science upon this positive basis, and it is this which gives a distinctive character to his effort. The great writers of all ages are cited with a superfluous lavishness, not so much to support his claims by an aggregation of individual opinions—still less to display his erudition, as his critics have sometimes complained—as to give a historic catholicity to his doctrine by showing that the laws he is endeavoring to formulate have, in fact, been accepted in all times and by all men. For this purpose also, he makes abundant use of the great authorities on Roman Law, whose doctrines and formulas were certain to carry conviction to the minds of those whom he desired to convince.

It is needless, perhaps, to point out that the work of Grotius is not and could not be a work of permanent authority as a digest of international law. His own wise appreciation of the positive and historical element—the authority derived from custom—should exempt him from the pretense of absolute finality. It is the Book of Genesis only that he has given us, but it is his indefeasible distinction to have recorded the creation of order out of chaos in the great sphere of international relationship, justly entitling him to the honor accorded to him by the spontaneous consent of future times as the Father of International Jurisprudence.

It is not difficult after more than three centuries of thought and experience to point out the defects in his doctrine. If he justifies slavery, it is not without ingenuity; for, he argues, if a man may sell his labor, why not his liberty? and if the conqueror may impose his will upon the property of the vanquished, why not also upon his person? If he identifies sovereignty with supreme power without any adequate conception of its ethical basis, he is at least as advanced in his thinking as the conceptions of his time, which had not yet grasped the idea of the state as a moral organism. If he has no adequate notion of neutrality, believing it to be the duty of a nation to enlist its energies for what it deems the right side, rather than to disavow all responsibility for actions foreign to its own interests, he is at least supported in this by the opinion of the multitude even at the present time; and even among jurists the modern conception of neutrality is hardly a century old. If the new schools of jurisprudence make light of Natural Law as a foundation of public and private rights, it is not certain that Grotius may not yet be vindicated as representing a doctrine at least as clear as any other which has been substituted for it. But, finally, to all these criticisms it may be answered, that no great thinker can be justly estimated except in relation to his predecessors and contemporaries. Measured by these, Grotius stands alone among the jurists of his century for originality of thought and power of exposition.

V. The Influence of Grotius's Work.

It was during his sojourn in Hamburg in 1633, eight years after the publication of his "De Jure," and while he was still suffering from painful pecuniary embarrassment, that Europe suddenly awoke to a sense of his importance; and, almost at one time, Poland, Denmark, Spain, England, and Sweden all extended friendly invitations urging him to enter into their public service. His fame as a jurist had become international and, rudely repelled by his native Holland, he became the center of European interest. Gustavus Adolphus had placed the work of Grotius along side his Bible under his soldier's pillow, as he prosecuted his campaigns in the Thirty Years' War. The first edition of that work, written in Latin, the cosmopolitan language of learned Europe, had been quickly exhausted and widely scattered. Another had soon been called for at Paris, but the death of Buon, the publisher, created obstacles to its appearance. A second edition had appeared at Frankfort in 1626, another at Amsterdam in 1631, and still another with notes by the author in 1632. The book had aroused the thought of kings as well as of scholars, and in the circles of high influence everywhere in Europe the name of Grotius had become well known. His book had excited the most opposite sentiments and awakened the most contradictory judgments, but among lawyers and statesmen its reception was from the first generally marked by admiration. In spite of exile, poverty, and misfortune, Grotius had become a European celebrity and was about to enter into the reward of his labors. He had created a code for war and a programme of peace, and henceforth no statesman could afford to neglect him.

Gustavus Adolphus, the king of Sweden, before his death on the battlefield of Lützen, had commended Grotius to his great Chancellor, Oxenstiern. By the death of Gustavus the Chancellor had, in 1633, recently come into the regency of the kingdom at a critical moment when a retreat from the bitter contest with the Empire seemed to be foredoomed unless prevented by the support and friendship of France. Recalling the commendation of the late king, Oxenstiern sought and found in Grotius an ambassador of Sweden to negotiate a new Franco-Swedish alliance. Accepting this appointment in 1634, Grotius arrived at Paris on his diplomatic mission on March 2d, 1635.

Richelieu, having failed to draw the great jurist into the orbit of his influence as a satellite, resented his appearance in a character so influential and honorable as that of ambassador of Sweden, and Grotius made little progress in his negotiation. Preoccupied with literature, he took more interest in the composition of a sacred tragedy on "The Flight into Egypt" than in reminding France of the existing treaty of Heilbronn or consolidating the new Franco-Swedish alliance. Where Grotius the theorist failed, Oxenstiern, the practical statesman, by a few dexterous strokes of diplomacy during a brief visit to Paris, easily succeeded; and the ambassador's mission was simplified to the rôle of a mere observer and reporter of occurrences.

By taste, nature, and training, Grotius was a jurist and not a diplomatist, and he soon realized that the two vocations, if not diametrically opposed, are at least separated from each other by a vast interval. His diplomatic correspondence betrays the keen observer and the conscientious moralist rather than the accomplished negotiator. Among the observations recorded in his dispatches, one may be quoted as an example of his penetration and his humor. Speaking of the Dauphin, the future Louis XIV, he says: "His frightful and precocious avidity is a bad omen for neighboring peoples; for he is at present on his ninth nurse, whom he is rending and murdering as he has the others!"

It is painful to behold the great father of