numerous. A fixed time is allowed, in the unfortunate event of hostilities, for the sale or withdrawal of goods; provision is made for the humane treatment of prisoners of war; the exercise of visit and search at sea is regulated and restrained; the acceptance by a citizen of the one country of a privateering commission from the enemy of the other is assimilated to piracy; and an effort is made to limit the scope of belligerent captures at sea. But, prior to the establishment of the Constitution, it was easier for the United States to make treaties than to enforce them. In spite of the engagement of the treaty of peace, that his Britannic Majesty should with "all convenient speed" withdraw his "armies, garrisons and fleets" from the United States, important posts within the northern frontier continued to be occupied by the British forces; and when the government of the United States protested, the British government pointed to the refusal of the State courts to respect the treaty pledge that British creditors should meet with no lawful impediment to the recovery of their confiscated debts. For similar reasons, the act of the United States in sending John Adams, soon after the peace, as minister to the court of St. James, remained unreciprocated.

The termination of the period of divergence and of incapacity for uniform action among the several States came none too soon. Perils were close at hand, the disruptive impulses of which the old con

federation could not have withstood. They were even to test the efficacy of the new Constitution. In 1789, when that instrument was put into operation, France was in the first throes of the great revolution which was eventually to involve all Europe in a struggle of unprecedented magnitude and severity. What attitude was the United States to hold towards this impending conflict? Even apart from the treaties with France of 1778, the question was fraught with grave possibilities. For generations, Europe had been a vast battle-ground, on which had been fought out the contests not only for political but also for commercial supremacy. Of the end of these contests, there appeared to be no sign; nor, in spite of their long continuance, had the rights and duties of non-participant or neutral nations been clearly and comprehensively defined. Indeed, so intricate were the ramifications of the European system that, when discords arose, it seemed to afford little room for neutrality. The situation of the United States was essentially different. Physically remote from the Old World, its political interests also were detached from those of Europe. Except as it might be drawn into disputes affecting the fate of existing colonies or the formation of new ones in America, it was not likely to become embroiled in European wars. Not only, therefore, did it enjoy the opportunity to be neutral, but its permanent interest appeared

to be that of neutrality; and the importance of preserving this interest was greatly enhanced by the necessity of commercial and industrial development. The new nation, though born, was yet to demonstrate to a world somewhat sceptical and not altogether friendly its right and its power to live and to grow. It was easy to foresee that its enterprise would penetrate to the farthest corners of the globe, and that its commerce, overspreading the seas, would be exposed to hazards and vexations of which the most uncertain and potentially the most disastrous were those arising from the exorbitant pretensions of belligerents. To resist these pretensions would fall to the lot of a neutral power; and upon the results of this resistance would depend the right to be independent in reality as well as in name, and to enjoy the incidents of independence.

In circumstances such as these it is not strange that Washington and his advisers watched with anxiety the progress of the French Revolution, as, growing in intensity and in violence, it encountered, first, the agitated disapprobation, and then the frantic opposition of other powers. It was not till 1793, when England entered into the conflict, that the war, by assuming a distinctively maritime form, raised a question as to the obligations of the United States under the treaties with France; but, long prior to that event, popular feeling in America was deeply stirred. Although the treaties of 1778 were

made with Louis XVI., yet in the sounds of the French Revolution the American people discerned a reverberation of their own immortal declaration. From Boston to Savannah, there were manifestations of the liveliest sympathy and enthusiasm. To set bounds to this tendency, obviously would require the exercise of unusual prudence and firmness on the part of those intrusted with the affairs of government. America had fought for freedom, but her statesmen were not mere doctrinaires. Their aims were practical. They understood that the peaceful demonstration of the beneficence of their principles, in producing order, prosperity, and contentment at home, was likely to accomplish far more for the cause of liberty than an armed propagandism, which perchance might ultimately degenerate into military despotism. It was therefore important to avoid premature commitments. To a perception of this fact is no doubt to be ascribed the appointment by Washington, on January 12, 1792, of Gouverneur Morris as minister to France. In his own country Morris had been a supporter of the Revolution, a member of the Continental Congress, assistant to Robert Morris in the management of the public finances, and a member of the Constitutional Convention of 1787. From the beginning, however, he had exhibited a distrust of the revolution in France. He instinctively recoiled from the excesses that were committed when his forebodings

came to be fulfilled. Before he became minister of the United States, he offered his counsel to Louis XVI., in a sense directly antagonistic to the Revolution; and he afterwards sought to effect that monarch's escape. Such a man could not be acceptable to the revolutionary leaders; but he at any rate possessed an intimate knowledge of the conditions and tendencies of the time, and was not likely to commit his government to extravagant policies.

Early in 1793 a new minister was appointed by France to the United States. His name was Edmond C. Genêt. Of Morris he was in many respects the precise antithesis; for, while by no means destitute of experience, he was a turbulent champion of the new order of things. According to his own account, he was placed at the age of twelve years in the French Foreign Office, where, under the direction of his father, he translated into French a number of American political writings. After spending seven years at the head of a bureau at Versailles, under the direction of Vergennes, he passed one year at London, two years at Vienna, one at Berlin, and five in Russia. At St. Petersburg, however, he fell into difficulties. Because of some of his representations, which were pitched too high in the revolutionary scale, the Empress Catherine requested his recall, and, when it was refused, dismissed him. In reporting his departure for the United States, Morris observed that "the pompousness of this embassy