International concerted action by states in economic affairs, save in the sphere of communications and transport, has a history of little more than one generation's span. Indeed, apart from the three disconnected conventions concluded before the Great War at Brussels concerning sugar subsidies, the publication of customs tariffs, and the exchange of comparable commercial statistics, respectively, efforts for international coöperation between governments date only from the Peace Settlement. Of the pre-war agreements, the first was denounced before the War; the second, which might still prove of considerable importance when national tariffs become fairly stable, has proved ineffective in a period of violent tariff changes; while the third came into operation only in 1922.

The movement, therefore, with the important exceptions in the sphere of communications and transport, owed its impetus to the work of the Peace Conferences; but save for Part XIII of the Versailles Treaty and the similar provisions of the other treaties—the labor clauses—no specific machinery was established by the treaties either within or without the framework of the Covenant for economic coöperation.

The ceaseless struggle of opposing ideas is the historical continuum of political theory. However concrete the situation which launches a particular conflict, all too often the struggle of ideas continues long after the objective scene of the conflict has moved on to quite different fields, long after new problems have outmoded old solutions, and long after new ways of thinking should have revised or displaced old concepts. This intellectual problem of continuity of ideas and of modes of thought is, of course, no more than the reflection of the larger issue of the liberation of human society from the “dead hand of the past.” The solution of this problem is no easy one, entailing as it does careful discrimination and emphasis upon the quality of “deadness,” but many reasoned attempts are being made toward this end.

The forms which these attempts are taking in the field of political theory (including the concept of sovereignty, which is the subject of this paper) and of political science in general are several. We have had an increasing, and productive, “realistic presentation of the facts of the governmental process” which has served to deflate such overweening concepts as that of sovereignty.

From the great mass of Jefferson's writings, letters, and public utterances, it is possible to select isolated fragments in justification of almost any course one chooses to pursue; and the history of his forty years in the service of his country offers almost as various a pattern. Taking his career and his writings as a whole, however, and piecing together from both the broad outlines of a political philosophy, one is struck by what appears to be a dual emphasis: two diverging streams of thought, which seem at first glance to be incompatible, and which have rendered the great democrat vulnerable to the charge of inconsistency so often repeated in his own day as in ours. One of these emphases, and that most apt to be quoted by campaign orators, is on individualism; but the direction and purpose of the other is socialistic.

Both in the abstract system of the philosopher and in the concrete events of the world of action, time has a way of reconciling apparent contradictions. Historical perspective will do much to reveal unsuspected unities, and the point of view from which the inquiry is approached will do the rest.

This Congress has been conducted in a crucible. The problems that demanded consideration were the most momentous since the war years. These tangible burdens, weighty and perplexing enough when taken separately, served in the aggregate and under the conditions of the time to test in most exacting fashion the very governmental system itself. The adequacy of Congress as a satisfactory political institution was at stake. Was the presidential system as such competent or even capable of meeting its responsibilities? The leadership of Congress during the special session was sustained in large measure by the impetus to action engendered by the economic crisis. But weaknesses in the congressional structure, hidden by the unifying effect of the emergency period, appeared clearly during the second session. What were the elements affecting Congress as a law-making body, and how did the presidential system withstand the strains of this second session?

The failure of the recent attempt to impeach the late Governor Horton of Tennessee is of particular interest to students of political science because of the grounds upon which the failure to impeach was justified. The main reason given by many members of the legislature was a constitutional one, namely, that an officer cannot be impeached during his second term of office for high crimes and misdemeanors committed during his first term. Considerable doubt remains as to the soundness of this position, many people thinking that the explanation given was a clever excuse but one that would not justify the failure to impeach. It is interesting, therefore, to ascertain if, in impeachment trials where this point has arisen, a similar position has been taken either by legislative bodies or by the courts.

In the December, 1933, issue of the REVIEW, pp. 942–955, appeared a tabular review of the changes in major units of the national government between March 4 and November 1, 1933. In the April, 1934, issue, pp. 250–254, appeared a supplementary list showing the changes between November 1, 1933, and March 1, 1934. The present list indicates the reorganization effected and new units created between March 15 and June 30,1934. As in previous lists, mention is made of units only specifically authorized by law or established by the President under general authority vested in him.

The power of the Senate to advise and consent to presidential nominations of judicial officers has recently been subjected to sharp criticism. In the main, the Senate is charged with misfeasance rather than nonfeasance in the discharge of this function. In other words, proposals to deprive the Senate of this power are not, like proposals to abolish the electoral college, based on alleged failure of the agency to function independently, but rather on its alleged abuse of the discretion conferred upon it. The Senate, say the critics in effect, has judged not wisely, but too well. Accordingly, it is their general disposition to deprecate interference with the executive rather than to devise more effective cheeky upon him.

Newfoundland, which proudly boasts that she is “Britain's oldest colony,” which has enjoyed responsible government since 1855, and which has been ranked by the Statute of Westminister as one of the Dominions of the British Commonwealth of Nations, voluntarily reverted to the status of a crown colony governed by a commission responsible to Whitehall. The event is without precedent in the history of the Empire. While certain West Indian colonies which have enjoyed representative assemblies have voluntarily given up their elected legislatures, no colony which had attained responsible government has ever before renounced it. The incident is sufficiently unique to be of interest alike to students of the history of the British Empire and of political science in general.

When the Constitution of the United States was before the states for adoption, James Iredell of North Carolina made the following observation: “The misfortune attending most constitutions which have been deliberately formed has been that those who formed them thought their wisdom equal to all possible contingencies, and that there could be no error in what they did. The gentlemen who framed this Constitution thought with much more diffidence of their capacities; and, undoubtedly, without a provision for amendment it would have been more justly liable to objection, and the character of its framers would have appeared much less meritorious. This, indeed, is one of the greatest beauties of the system, and should strongly recommend it to every candid mind.”

It has long been recognized by students of labor economics that a high standard of living has definite international implications. Since early in the nineteenth century, the advocates of labor reform have attempted to stimulate international action which might bring about a simultaneous elevation of the condition of the workers in order to avoid the use of labor as a factor in competition. For nearly a century now, the international treaty has been pressed as the most suitable means of avoiding competitive disadvantage as a result of social changes, and the International Labor Organization, founded by Part XIII of the Treaty of Versailles, is the fruit of this agitation. It is natural, therefore, that any country seeking to maintain high labor standards should welcome ultimately the possibility of international action in defense of its effort.