The postulates of our foreign policy were determined by the ideals of liberty. The dominant motive was the security of the Republic; it was a policy of “live and let live,” with no imperialistic designs or thought of aggression. There was a deep-seated conviction that the opportunities of a hard-won freedom would be threatened by the ambitions of European Powers constantly seeking their own aggrandizement by the forcible imposition of their will upon weaker peoples, and that the peaceful aims of the new nation could be achieved only by keeping clear of the toils of European politics and strife. It was this conviction of the necessity of maintaining an independe it position which led to the declaration of neutrality in 1793 despite the treaty of alliance with France, which had sprung from the exigencies of the Revolutionary struggle. The words of the Farewell Address were more than a solemn admonition of the foremost American patriot—they set forth principles which those who established our foreign policy held to be its corner stone.

No problem which confronted the Lausanne Conference contributed more to its difficulties than that of “ the capitulations.” For almost four hundred years foreigners have enjoyed extraterritorial rights in the Ottoman Empire—rights which are anomalous when regarded in the light of the recognized principles of international law. Extraordinary privileges and immunities have become so embodied in successive treaties between the great Christian Powers and the Sublime Porte that for most intents and purposes many nationalities in Turkey form a state within a state. This regime has come to be known as “ the capitulations”: a code of legal reconciliation founded upon the immiscibility of Christianity and Islam; and a term of art alone descriptive of extraterritoriality in Turkey.

From the day on which the United States of America declared that it would not become a party to the League of Nations, the thoughts of many people have naturally turned to the situation created by this abstention, the seriousness of which was necessarily clear to everyone.

Some think that the matter should be taken lightly. In their opinion the attitude of the United States can only be transitory and at some future time, which may, however, be still far distant, the country will modify its decision and make up its mind to occupy the place reserved for it in the League of Nations. Others allow themselves to be misguided by a different hope. According to them the League of Nations cannot live and will sooner or later disappear to make place for another grouping of nations which would win the approval and adhesion of the American Republic. Between these extreme views there lie the proposals of those who seek relief in the present situation, basing their expectations either upon such a revision of the Covenant as would satisfy the United States or upon the creation of a world association which would join the United States, the present League of Nations and other states not yet belonging thereto into one great group.

At the recent Washington Conference it was agreed to call another meeting to discuss desirable changes in the rules of maritime warfare. At the meeting this spring of The American Society of International Law opinions did not coincide as to what form the future development of international law of war should take. There seemed a disposition on the part of many to attempt to resume the position previous to 1914 and say, “Let us forget the war damage to international law and continue its development on the old lines.”

The efforts made at the Hague Conference of 1907 to establish a Permanent Court of Arbitral Justice in addition to the panel which we call the Permanent Court of Arbitration, bore fruit at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919 in Article 14 of the Covenant of the League of Nations. The task of establishing a new court was too delicate for the Peace Conference to undertake. So the Covenant stopped short with directing the Council of the League of Nations to formulate plans for a Permanent Court of International Justice, and submit them to the members of the League “for adoption.” The Council lost no time after its organization in discharging this responsibility. At its second session, in February, 1920, which was really its first session for the transaction of business, it set up a Committee of Jurists to draft a scheme. This Committee deliberated through the summer of 1920, and its draft project was submitted to the Council at San Sebastian in August.

During the Conference on the Limitation of Armament at Washington nearly two years ago a resolution was passed establishing a “Commission of Jurists to consider amendment of the laws of war” covering the use of new agencies of warfare.

The peace conference held at Paris in 1919 was called upon to consider no question of wider political or economic significance than that of the ordering of navigation on those great rivers usually designated as international and of which the Danube affords one of the most striking examples. In the long progress of 1800 miles from its source eastwards to the Black Sea this river traverses or bounds the territory of eight extensive states displaying a route capable of beneficial exploitation on the part of every country in Europe. Rising on the easterly slope of the Black Forest hill region in the extreme south of Baden, where it is formed by the union at Donaueschingen of two small streams flowing southerly from points near Villingen and Furtwangen, the Danube pursues a general easterly course across Wurtemberg and Bavaria. At Ulm it is joined by the Iller and now becomes navigable.

The traditional treatment of international law has almost if not wholly dissociated it from constitutional law. International law has been conceived as concerned only with the abstractions known as states—Platonic ideas, as it were, which could not be seen or felt but had their existence in a world apart, inhabited only by other abstractions such as sovereignty, independence and equality. The extent of a state's territory, the character of its people, or its form of government was no concern of international law.“ Relative magnitude creates no distinction of right, relative imbecility whether permanent or casual, gives no additional right to the more powerful neighbor,” said Lord Stowell. “ Russia and Geneva have equal rights,” repeated Chief Justice Marshall.

It is not too much to say that the municipal law of every civilized state recognizes certain rights as belonging to every individual, including the right to property, the violation of which constitutes a tort. Municipal law also very generally recognizes certain duties as attached to every individual the breach of which, coupled with consequent damages to another, is a tort. Thus, a tort is sometimes defined as a private or civil wrong or injury, and sometimes as the breach of a legal duty.

Unique among the governing bodies of the world today, controlling in large measure about thirty-one thousand square kilometers of the former German Empire with a population exceeding six million inhabitants, the Interallied Rhineland High Commission, the supreme representative of the Allied and Associated Powers within the occupied territory, presents to the student of administrative law much that is enlightening, interesting and valuable. In this branch of jurisprudence, so highly developed among continental European nations, America has not specialized to any marked degree, and indeed the same may be said of Great Britain. The High Commission— referred to hereinafter for the sake of brevity as the Commission— is the antithesis of the legal doctrine enunciated by Montesquieu and so readily accepted by the framers of our own Constitution: the triune distribution of power, the separation of governmental authority into executive, legislative and judicial departments, each distinct and independent of the others, yet all so correlated as to make one consistent, harmonious and logical system of government. The Commission itself exercises executive, legislative and judicial authority, and not infrequently issues its administrative mandates, enacts important and far-reaching ordinances, and reviews, as would an appellate court, the action of a German civil or criminal court at one and the same sitting. And it must be said with entire frankness that it does all these things well. Perhaps its limited personnel—men, however, of exceeding high mental and statesmanlike qualities—is responsible for much of its success. Be that as it may, the excellence of its administration is another proof that the “ form” of a government is not the thing which counts, but the results of that government's action.