Bello again represented English thought, not only in his philosophical work, but also in his writings as jurist. He was, like the classic legislators, the creator of the written law. His civil code, promulgated in Chili in 1855, served other nations as a model, and his _Law of Nations_ became the international law of South America. He was born into the world for the purpose of pouring language as well as law into logical moulds. In his legislative work he displayed a severe analysis, a British prudence, and a constant recognition of social realities. He hated the vague and the nebulous, and liked to express his ideas in clear, concrete formulæ; he brought to the solution of social problems a solid common sense. Alberdi also adopted British methods and ideas. In France he especially admired Guizot, and distrusted Lamartine. He attacked the sterile intellectualism of his fellow-Americans, and wrote in defence of Protestantism, a religion peculiarly appropriate to republics on a Catholic continent. He believed in the English constitutional monarchy, in the benefits of technical schools, and in the disastrous effects of a parasitical scholarship; he preferred strong governments, like that of Chili, and detested demagogues. "The Republic," he wrote, "has been {247} and is still the bread of Presidents, the trade of soldiers, the industry of lawyers without causes, and journalists without talent; the refuge of the second-rate of every species, and the machine for the amalgamation of all the dross of society." Such was his verdict on the political system of South America. He called for a monarchy as the only salvation of the country: "thus the Republics might unite themselves to Europe, whence their riches and their civilisation derive, and resist the monopoly of North America." From European influence he hoped to obtain not only culture, but also the consecration of political independence. He begged the Old World for emigrants, for capital, and for princes. In an admirable volume published in 1858 he analysed the "bases" of the Argentine organisation. This book was no Latin gospel; with the "relativity" of an Anglo-Saxon he proposed practical solutions; he ascribed supremacy to population, strong governments, laborious immigrants, and industrial wealth; he disdained the ideology of the revolutionists, and their implacable Jacobinism. His effort may be compared to that of Burke in his criticism of the French Revolution. Amid the sterile enthusiasm of romantic politicians his book stands out, in its gravity, sobriety, common sense, and realism, like a lesson for all time.