The Mutual Defense Assistance Program represents the military portion of an important foreign policy of the United States, that of aid to free nations. While assisting allies by grants of money and supplies is by no means a new undertaking, even for the United States, the scope of this program, under which expenditures may soon exceed $7 billion annually, makes it a good laboratory specimen to illustrate the impact of a positive foreign policy on the structure of the national government. Furthermore, analysis of the program clearly shows the tremendous changes that have taken place in the methods of formulating and administering American foreign policy since the end of World War II.

For more than a generation prior to 1916, the Secretaries of State, War, and Navy occupied the same building at the seat of government.

During the last decade the principal issues of American administrative law have been presented within a framework largely dominated by the recruitment and administration of a military establishment far beyond our normal peacetime complement, by the application of emergency economic controls to that part of our civilian economy normally left to the freedom of the market place, and by the development of security techniques designed to guard against real or fancied dangers of espionage, sabotage and divided loyalties. In such an atmosphere, it is not surprising that many of the burning issues of the thirties which aroused leaders of the American Bar Association to storm the citadels of bureaucratic power have seemed to pale into relative insignificance beside the sweep of discretionary authority exercised in the name of national emergency. A society which had scarcely freed itself from the controls born of the Second World War before the threatening clouds brought a re-emergence of the familiar pattern of selective service, priorities and allocation, price regulations and wage orders, could derive small comfort from the niceties of the Administrative Procedure Act as bulwarks for the defense of ancient liberties. Nevertheless, emergency controls account for only a part of the machinery of government, and it is still our hopeful assumption that they are temporary phenomena.

The relationship of the world of ideas to the world of events would appear to be securely established today. It is generally acknowledged that ideas “have consequences,” and that in turn they are themselves consequences of events. But recent preoccupation with this problem has perhaps obscured an equally fruitful field of investigation, namely, that of the horizontal relationship among ideas in different areas of thought. I propose to examine here the relationship and the consistency between John Locke's general philosophy and his political theory. In the main, this task resolves itself into a comparison and correlation of the Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Locke's chief philosophical work, with his Second Treatise of Civil Government, his principal work in political theory; but I have made use also of other writings.

My problem has been considerably complicated by Lock's failure to commit himself unequivocally on several of the most crucial questions to be discussed. He frequently used imprecise language, and, regrettably, sometimes made plainly contradictory statements. These lapses reflect a deep-seated unwillingness in Locke to pursue a line of thought to an unattractive conclusion, both in philosophy and in political theory.

The United States has now had a half-century's experience with the process customarily denominated direct legislation. The phrase usually means, and is so used here, the power of the electorate to participate in the law-making function by voting for or against particular proposals submitted at regular or special elections. The proposals may have originated in the legislative assembly or they may have been submitted through the action of the electorate. There are other procedural details in which the processes in particular states may vary, but here the concern is with the general operation of the system. Perhaps more attention has been devoted to that situation in which the legislature has the option of submitting a proposal or not as it sees fit. It is not thought, however, that this detail would cause any serious difference in the conclusions that are drawn here or the suggestions that are made.

Direct legislation has been associated with the Progressive movement which was active at the turn into the present century. The movement was a protest against a number of activities which were prevalent among the states at that time. One of the protests alleged that the legislatures had become wholly “corrupt” and that consequently it was necessary to “clean” them up. This line of analysis also postulated that the people were “incorrupt” and that if given the opportunity they would “purify” the political activity of their states and even the nation. Direct legislation was looked upon as one of the most significant means by which these goals were to be accomplished.

The Problem. Chinese communist leaders generally attribute their conquest of power to the faithful pursuit of effective “mass line” tactics. They now regard a “correct” mass line as the essential prerequisite for the full consolidation of power, for the successful implementation of the ambitious and farreaching policies to which they are committed, and for the ultimate transition from the “people's democratic dictatorship” to the complete socialist order. Recognizing that large numbers of cadres adequately trained in mass line tactics are critically needed for these purposes, the Chinese Communist Party intensified its cadre training program in 1950–1951 to insure that all party (and other public) workers would be carefully indoctrinated in basic Marxist-Leninist mass line theory and practice. Training in mass line tactics ranges in scope from propaganda to public administration, but finds its principal focus in the delicate area of the Party's public relations with the great masses of Chinese people who have yet to be sold on the communist program. The problem is so serious, and the need for a solution so urgent, that the party leadership has temporarily deferred several important social reforms pending the completion of the current cadre training program.

The enactment by the Imperial Parliament at Westminster of the British North America (No. 2) Act, 1949, raises again the complex and difficult problem of the nature of the amending process in the eldest of the British dominions. From the beginning this process has been surrounded with a certain mysterious imprecision, deriving from the fact that Canada's basic constitutional statute—the British North America Act, 1867—contained no provision for its own amendment. In other words, until 1949 there was no clause in the constitution setting out a procedure whereby its own provisions might be legally changed. Hence through the long years all amendments have had to be made by the Parliament at Westminster which enacted the original statute—a necessity that has produced all sorts of difficult problems for students of constitutional law in both Canada and the United Kingdom. It has long been settled practice that the Imperial Parliament will enact whatever amendments are requested by the appropriate authorities in Canada, but a question remains as to which are the appropriate authorities. It seems now to be settled, after considerable controversy, that the executive government, acting alone, may not make such a request; practice requires a joint address by the two houses of Parliament. But is it necessary for the Dominion authorities to consult with the provinces before going to London with this request or may the Dominion do this by itself? If consultation is conceived to be necessary, must all the provinces be consulted? And if so, is it necessary that they all consent to the amendment before it is requested? If all need not consent, what part is necessary? These questions and other similar ones have plagued Canadians for years, and there is not yet any accepted solution either in precedent or in law.

Chile, along with Uruguay, is generally considered to have the most democratic of the present governments of Latin America, as well as one possessing a relatively high degree of political stability. Under a constitutional framework instituted in 1925 to remedy shortcomings of the preceding “parliamentary” government (1891-1925), Chile is now operating under a “presidential” type of government.

During the period prior to 1925, 138 ministries passed fleetingly across the governmental stage, including one whose role lasted less than twenty-four hours. More significant, however, than the rapid rotation of ministers during the parliamentary era were the insufficiency of executive power and the marked lack of legislative concern not only for cabinet stability but even for the performance of essential governmental functions. The most serious result of this congressional attitude was legislative stagnation, highlighted by the frequent failure of the Congress to approve the budget and enact other necessary measures. Accordingly, it was intended, in framing a new basic charter for Chile, to enhance the position of the chief executive, to increase ministerial stability, and to provide for greater legislative responsibility, at least to the extent of assuring a minimum law-making job. To what extent have these ends been achieved, and how does the presidential system operate in Chile?

The joint standing committees of the Swedish Parliament are unique institutions of particular interest to the political analyst. They are the very linchpin of the legislative process in Sweden; they mediate in the event of intercameral disputes; and they even arrogate to themselves quasi-governmental powers when the government cannot muster a majority in the legislature.

Since the hard-fought general election of February 23, 1950, the narrow margin of Labor's control of the British House of Commons has been tested at the polls on ten occasions. This number of by-elections to fill vacancies in the membership of the House is a normal post-World War II figure (the previous House saw fifty-two replacements in its four and one-half years of life), although it is somewhat under that of prewar averages. In terms of locale, however, these ten by-elections were atypical. Though the overall distribution within the various parts of the United Kingdom was not unrepresentative (six in England, one in Wales, actually Monmouthshire, two in Scotland, and one in Northern Ireland), all vacancies chanced to come in urban areas. Eight of the contests involved borough seats and the other two (West Dunbartonshire and Abertillery, Monmouthshire) were primarily urban in character.