Grotius’s father, who knew his son was esteemed and even loved by the new Stadtholder, advised him to write to that Prince. He obeyed his father: but informed him that he was determined not to do a mean thing to procure his return. It was from mere complaisance that he wrote to the Prince, for he owns to his brother he had very little hopes of success from his letter: he was even desirous that his correspondence with the Prince might be kept a secret, lest its being publicly known should vex his Highness. The enemies of the Remonstrants would, no doubt, have been greatly offended with the Stadtholder, had they discovered that he was favourably inclined to the Arminians: and the Prince’s authority was not yet sufficiently established to free him from the necessity of keeping measures with so powerful a party. Grotius’s conjectures were but too true: and all that he and his friends could do to procure his return was absolutely fruitless.
IX. He was now at the height of his glory by the prodigious success of his admirable book Of the rights of war and peace, which a celebrated writer[147] justly styles a master-piece. He began it in 1623 at Balagni, and in 1625 it was published at Paris. It was the famous Nicholas Peyresc, the Mecaenas of his age and the ornament of Provence, who engaged Grotius to handle this subject. He writes to that worthy magistrate, Jan. 11th, 1624. “I go on with my work Of the law of nations: if it may be of use to the world it is to you posterity will owe the obligation, since you made me undertake it, and assisted me in it.” In the preliminary discourse he sets forth his motives for treating this subject. “Many strong reasons determined me to write at this time. I have observed in all parts of the Christian world such an unbridled licentiousness with regard to war as the most barbarous nations might blush at: they fly to arms without reason, or on frivolous pretexts; and when they have them once in their hands they trample on all laws human and divine, as if from that time they were authorised, and firmly resolved to stick at no crime.” Thus it was from a principle of humanity that he composed this great work; and, as he writes to Crellius[148], to shew how unbecoming it was for a Christian and a reasonable man, to make war from caprice: which was too much practised. In the dedication of this book to the King the author observes, that Lewis XIII. like a propitious constellation, not satisfied with relieving the misfortunes of princes and protecting nations, had graciously supported him under his afflictions. He presented his book to the King and the principal nobility; who, he writes to his brother[149], received it very graciously, but made him no return. He imagined it was because he had handled in it several points of divinity: and the court would not shew any favour to heterodox works, in which such questions were discussed: but the favourable reception it met with from all Europe sufficiently made up this loss.