dingly heavy penalty. It is remarkable further that， among the tribal groups of which society was primitively or anciently made up， the observance of good faith seems to have been more strict than among individuals. There is some evidence of want of respect for sanctity of agreement among individuals， but not so amid tribes. The ancient monuments which are open to us no doubt generally recount victories and defeats， but they also record treaties. Treaties of great complexity and antiquity are found among the surviving savages. Also we have a glimpse of systems of what would now be called International Law； that is to say of rules enforced with a regular ceremonial by trained official agents. Such was the jus fetiale of the Romans. And it is to be noted that there are certain departments of this law in which stricter provision teeny to have been made than were at the outset found in modern days in what is technically called the Law of Nations； for example， the extremely express and severe rules which regulate declarations of war.

　　In modern days the name of International Law has been very much confined to rules laid down by one particular class of writers. They may be roughly said to begin in the first half of the seventeenth century， and to run three parts through the eighteenth century. The names which most of us know are first of all that of the great Hugo Grotius， followed by Puffendorf， Leibnitz， Zouch， Selden， Wolf， Bynkershoek， and Vattel. The list does not absolutely begin with Grotius， nor does it exactly end with Vattel， and indeed as regards the hither end of this series the assumption is still made， and I think not quite fortunately， that the race of law-creating jurists still exists. It is further to be noted that before international law fell into the hands of these writers it had like most other subjects of thought attracted the attention of the Church. There is a whole chapter of the law of nations which is treated of by Roman Catholic theological writers， and a slight difference which distinguishes their use of technical expressions， such for example as 'law of nature' and 'natural law，' occasionally perplexes the student of the system before us.

　　The rules， however， laid down by the writers I have named and a few others， the nature of their system， and the degree in which it is settled， will occupy much of our time in the present or future courses of lectures. In the first place their system is that conventionally known as International Law； and secondly in them we find， not only the writers at whom Dr. Whewell's implied condemnation is aimed， but the writers whose works acted on the spirit of belligerency like a charm， who did prevent wars and mitigate them， and did something to prepare a time when war should be do more. I said something a few minutes ago of the erect of great agglomerations of countries in territorial empires in producing peace. When the Roman Empire had broken up， after a while the new European world was long protected against incessant war by its surviving authority. Its very shadow gave as much peace as was to be had. The pope or the emperor， each a continuation of the Caesars， served as a court of arbitration and did compose disputes and prevent wars. Too much influence must not， I have to warn you， be attributed to their influence. Their sphere was more particularly Italy； but Ferrari， an historian who has written both in Italian and French， and who has conceived the expedient of mapping out Italian history into periods according to the nature of the revolutions which occurred in the Italian States， has counted among these states no less than 7，000 revolutions， each with a war of its own， small or great. Still the emperor and the pope， and yet more the pope than the emperor， were unquestionably， on the whole， makers of peace； and sometimes the place of the pope was taken by a prince of acknowledged sanctity， like St. Louis of France. But the outbreak of the great wars of religion， the wars between （Catholic and Protestant， put an end to these pacific influences. The pope， of course， was necessarily on one side among the combatants， and on the whole the emperor was on the same side. Hence it came about that the great international jurists belonged to the smaller states and were wholly Protestants. The International Law of the Roman Catholic doctors had fallen into suspicion and finally into disrepute. A law with a new sanction was required if states were to obey it， and this is what the new jurists produced. The effect was a rapid mitigation of wars and a rapid decrease in their frequency.

　　It is very important that we should ask ourselves what is the true place in legal history of the set of rules called International Law. It will be found that the proper answer to this question involves replies to several less general questions which are nowadays put by critical writers， or which spontaneously suggest themselves to the mind of the student， as to the nature and authority of the famous system before us. What， then， is its place in the general development of European jurisprudence？ We may answer pretty confidently that its rapid advance to acceptance by civilised nations was a stage， though a very late stage， in the diffusion of Roman Law over Europe. Those of you who have paid any attention to the history of law are aware that I have now touched upon a subject of much interest， and of some difficulty. In considerably less than a century， all the ideas of learned men on the history of Roman Law in the western world have undergone change. A hundred years ago， the virtually universal assumption of Juridical writers was that， when the pressure of invading barbarous races had broken up the territories of the Roman Empire into separate kingdoms， the Roman Law was lost， as the Empire itself was supposed to have been lost. It was indeed plain that， if this were so， the Roman Law must in some way or other， and at some time or other， have undergone a revival， and this was explained by fables， like the story of the discovery of a copy of Justinian's Pandects at the siege of Amalfi.

　　More recent learning， learning which on some points is extremely recent， has taught us that many of these assumptions are doubtful and many others are certainly false. The Roman Empire was never wholly lost， nor the Roman Law either. The Empire， with Caesar at the head of it， and with some institutions associated with it which even pointed back to the Republican Roman period， survived to be destroyed by Napoleon Bonaparte， though no doubt it was ever decaying and sinking into a heap of ceremonies， names， and forms. The Roman Law， on the other hand， was practically everywhere， and its tendency was， not to decay， but to extend its area and enlarge its authority. The systems of local custom which first established themselves in the new Europe betray a large ingredient of Roman Law it many portions of their structure. At a later date， writers of treatises professing to set forth the whole， or a definite part， of the institutions of particular countries， are found to have borrowed considerable fragments of books which the Romans regarded as of authority. And then we seem to see a whole flood of Roman jurisprudence spreading to the ends of civilised Europe.

　　No one explanation can be offered of these facts. In some countries， the Roman Law probably never ceased to be obeyed， and the foreign element in its institutions was the barbarous usage. In others the reverse of this occurred； the basis， at least the theoretical basis， of the institutions was barbarous， but the Roman Law， still known to some classes， was rapidly absorbed. A barbarous system of law is always scanty， and if it be contiguous to a larger and snore extensive system， the temptation in practitioners to borrow from this is irresistible. Only the other day， this process was full in view in British India. The bulk of the Native Indian law was extremely narrow. In whole departments of affairs， no rules were found to settle controversies which naturally rose up. And the result was that the bulk of Native Indian law was gradually becoming English through the filtration of rules into it from the more extensive system by its side. And this went on， until both the English and the purely Native law were gradually superseded by the new Indian Codes. We are not， however， to suppose that the Roman Law came to be received by European communities through any process resembling legislation. In the history of law， it is always essential to keep in mind the fact that legislatures are of very recent appearance in modern Europe. The earliest attempt to distinguish clearly between legislative and executive power， between legislative and executive action， has been traced to an Italian writer of the fourteenth century. The powerful bodies from which many of the legislatures are descended， assemblies of great men advising and controlling kings， were not true legislatures themselves. They assisted occasionally in the making of laws， but that was because law-making was recognized as important business， and the duty of these Councils， Parliament or States-General， was to advise the King in all important business. In truth， far the most influential cause of the extension of particular laws and of particular systems of law over new areas was the approval of them by literate classes， by clergymen and lawyers， and the acquiescence of the rest of the community in the opinions of these classes. When then we are asked by what legislative authority International Law came to be adopted so as to make it binding on particular communities， we should rejoin that the same question must first be put respecting the extension of Roman law and of every other system of law which， before the era of legislatures， gave proof of possessing the same power of self-propagation.

　　A great part， then， of International Law is Roman Law， spread over Europe by a process exceedingly like that which， a few centuries earlier， had caused other portions of Roman Law to filter into the interstices of every European legal system. The Roman element in International Law belonged， however， to one special province of the Roman system， that which the Romans themselves called Natural Law or， by an alternative name， Jus Gentium. In a book published some years ago on 'Ancient Law' I made this remark： 'Setting aside the Treaty Law of Nations， it is surprising how large a part of the system is made up of pure Roman law. Wherever there is a doctrine of the Roman jurisconsults affirmed by them to be in harmony with the Jus Gentium， the Publicists have found a reason for borrowing it， however plainly it may bear the marks of a distinctively Roman origin.' I must observe， however， that the respect for natural law as the part of the Roman Law which had most Cairns on our reverence did not actually begin with the international lawyers. The habit of identifying the Roman law with the Law of Nature， for the purpose of giving it dignity， was of old date in Europe. When a clergyman or a lawyer of an early age wishes to quote the Roman Law in a country in which its authority was not recognised， or in a case to which Roman Law was not allowed to apply， he calls it 'Natural Law.' When our Edward III laid a document before the Pope for the purpose of establishing his claim to the French throne， and of contending that the descendants of women may succeed to the property or throne of a male ancestor， he spoke of himself as arguing on Natural Law； though in point of fact the power of women to transmit rights of inheritance to their descendants was pure Roman Law of recent origin， and was not specially connected in any way with the Law of Nature.

　　But though the founders of the system which lies at the basis of the rules now regulating the concerns of states inter se were not the first to describe the Law of Nature and the Law of Nations， Jus Nature， Jus Gentium， as the most admirable， the most dignified portion of Roman Law， they speak of it with a precision and a confidence which were altogether new. They look upon it as perfectly determinable if the proper tests be applied， partly on the authority of express texts of Roman Law， partly by a process of inference from a great mass of recorded precedents. Its fitness for international purposes they regard as a discovery of their own， and some writers of their day speak of the system as the new science. No more doubt of its reality seems to have been entertained than （let us say） of the English common law by an English mediaeval lawyer. It is sometimes difficult to be quite sure how Grotius and his successors distinguished rules of the Law of Nature from religious rules prescribed by inspired writers. But that they did draw a distinction is plain. Grotius's famous work， the 'De Jure Belli et Pacis，' is in great part composed of examples supplied by the language and conduct of heathen statesmen， generals， and sovereigns， whom he could not have supposed to know anything of inspired teaching. If we assume him to have believed that the most humane and virtuous of the acts and opinions which he quotes were prompted by an instinct derived from a happier state of the human race， when it was still more directly shaped and guided by Divine authority， we should probably have got as near his conception as possible. As time has gone on， some parts of this basis of thought have proved to be no longer tenable. Grotius greatly overrated the extent of recorded history and， still more， the accuracy of the record. The very conception from which he started， the conception of a real and determinable Law of Nature， has not resisted the application of modern criticism. To each successive inquirer， the actual childhood of the human race looks less and less like the picture which the jurists of the seventeenth century formed of it. It was excessively inhuman in war； and it was before all things enamoured of legal technicality in peace. But nevertheless the system founded on an imaginary reconstruction of it more and more calmed the fury of angry belligerency， and supplied a framework to which more advanced principles of humanity and convenience easily adjusted themselves.

　　The effects of the 'De Jure Belli et Pacis，' both in respect of its general influence and of the detailed propositions which it laid down， were exceedingly prompt and have proved extremely durable. At about the middle of his reign Louis XIV of France adopted two measures by which he was thought to have carried the severity of war to the furthest point. He devastated the Palatinate， expressly directing his officers to carry fire and sword into every corner of the province， and he issued a notice to the Dutch， with whom he was at war， that， as soon as the melting of the ice opened the canals， he would grant no more quarter to his Dutch enemies. The devastation of the Palatinate has become a proverb of savageness with all historians， though fifty years earlier it might at most have been passed as a measure of severity， or might even have been defended； but the proclamation to the Dutch called forth a burst of execration from all Europe， and the threat to refuse quarter was not acted upon. The book of Grotius was making itself felt， and the successors of Grotius assure us that it was his authority which deterred the French king and the French generals from the threatened outrage.

　　But there is other evidence of the respect paid to the details of his system. Among the most interesting legal products of our day are the Manuals of the usages of war which a great number of civilised states are now issuing to their officers in the field. The Manual prepared for the United States is the oldest of them， but most of them have followed the attempt to form a Code of Land War which was made at the Conference at Brussels in 1874， an attempt which miscarried principally through recollections of the course of the great Franco-German war in 1870-1871. There is very much that is remarkable in all this private codification， as I propose to show in one or two lectures which will follow； but perhaps the most singular feature of the Manuals is the number of rules adopted in them which have been literally borrowed from the 'De Jure Belli et Pacis，' and specially from its third book. Remembering what Grotius himself says of the condition in which he found the law and usage of war when be began to write of it， and recalling what we learn from historical sources of the wars of succession and the wars of religion， we may well believe Vattel， the Swiss Jurist， a contemporary of the Seven Years' War and of Frederick the Great， when he tells us that what struck him most in the wars of his day was their extreme gentleness； and of the standard of gentleness proper to be followed in war Vattel was a severe judge.

　　I here conclude this Introductory Lecture， but there still remain some points of principle which meet us on the threshold of International Law， and which cannot be dismissed absolutely in silence. In my next lecture I propose to consider the binding force of International Law， and with it a question of some gravity on which the judges of England and the legal authorities of the United States do not entertain absolutely identical opinions， and I will state the way in which I venture to think the various shades of difference can be got over. In the succeeding lectures I shall have to consider a few fundamental topics in the system before us， and I hope afterwards to give a sketch， which must be brief on account of the narrow limits of my course， on the law of war by sea and land； and finally I will endeavour to discharge a part of the duty imposed on me by Dr. Whewell's directions， and to state what measures proposed in our day seem to me to tend to diminish the evils of war and to do something to something.

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