created which, for all its drawbacks, is not the less capable of being practically worked, so far as the great mass of intellectual property is concerned. The achievement was not a little remarkable. In the face of the gross imperfections of the domestic law-especially, it must be confessed, in Great Britain—it was a triumph of diplomacy to have established a world-wide market which could, more or less, be secured to authors, artists, scientists and dramatists, and practically all workers in the intellectual domain. Grievances, of course, remained. Art and music, for instance, had come off very baldy. Many notorious inconsistencies had been unearthed which required to be remedied, and obscurities and to spare were waiting to be cleared up. But these and the like links in the chain were readily capable of being strengthened without raising any dangerous problems or imperilling the structure it had taken a generation to erect.

The framers of the Berlin Convention, 1908, were, however, ambitious in their aspirations. With a sublime indifference to the conditions which govern the reform of the domestic laws of many of the Unionist and non-Unionist countries, they elected to aim at a code which should at once comprehend much of the old machinery, tinkered a little here and there, and much that was wholly new. There is every danger that, as a result, they will retard instead of advancing the realisation of their aims, and complicate instead of simplifying the international system.

The Convention, it is true, provides in some measure for the maintenance of the machinery it is framed to replace. In other words, it deliberately, and inconsistently, contemplates a possible further sacrifice of that uniformity which it is mainly designed to create. Power is reserved in ratifying it to substitute the provisions of the Berne Convention, 1886, or the Additional Act, 1896, in whole or in part, for the corresponding provisions of the present Convention. A State not ratifying it in any respect can, it appears, maintain the status quo ante. But what a vista is thus opened up! A Convention accepted in part and rejected in part, to be ratified and put into force at one and the same time as a previous Convention it is designed to supersede, which is also to remain operative in whole or in part, or to be rescinded in whole or in part, with exception multiplied on exception, affords a prospect depressing enough from a British point of view. Regarded internationally, the outlook is indeed fort complexe. It is by no means only Great Britain which will find itself unable to ratify and give effect to the new conditions in their entirety.

The procedure which precedes ratification may be briefly stated. In Continental countries a treaty, when signed, must itself be submitted to and approved by the Legislature before it can be ratified, but when ratified it has of itself the force of law. In Great Britain, on the other hand, although a treaty can be negotiated and signed by the Executive Government under authority and sanction of the

Crown, without there being any need to obtain the assent of the Legislature, the treaty so concluded has not of itself the force of law, but, if ratified, the Executive Government must see either that the existing law allows its provisions to be carried out, or that such new legislation as may be required is passed. Great Britain has, too, to legislate for her self-governing Colonies, to which any Imperial Act in this behalf must extend, unless they are individually or collectively excepted from its provisions. The Colonies, moreover, possess the right of denouncing the treaty and standing aloof from the concert. From this it will be seen that in every country the Convention has to run the gauntlet of a multitude of interests. all wherea

It is a thousand pities that, for the nonce, a short Additional Act of Berlin was not framed providing, in the first place, for obviously innocuous addenda and corrigenda. The regulation, for instance, of the adaptation and performance of musical works to and by means of mechanical instruments; the reproduction of literary, scientific, and artistic works by means of the cinematograph; the simplification of procedure, especially in the case of artistic and musical works; the optional extension of term; some extension of the limits of translation rights; and sundry amendments indicated by wellknown cases might one and all have thus been dealt with much more conveniently and with greater certainty of being adopted, so leading to that international uniformity which is so much to be desired. It would have been time enough to have set about such a crux as international codification when the domestic laws of Great Britain and the United States had been finally settled, and so had, by comparison with Continental codes, afforded a perspective view of the trend of reform in two of the leading, if most dilatory, Unionist and non-Unionist countries, respectively, and indicated the limits within which common international action was possible. Uniformity loses half its value if it exists in form and not in substance. It is already responsible for obvious lacunæ and patent ambiguities which, in the absence of a common understanding, have been left by the Berne Convention to be dealt with by domestic tribunals with regrettable but inevitable differences in construction.

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The Berlin Convention itself, amidst much that is harmless and much that is perfectly satisfactory, contains indications of a dangerous tendency to become too comprehensive. Each Conference seems to find it necessary to add to the objects susceptible of copyright at the risk of making the machinery unwieldy and so weakening its legitimate action. Works of architecture,' now to be included in the general scheme of protection as to both area and duration, afford a case in point. Introduced in 1896, so far as those countries, inter se, which admitted them to protection were concerned, they enjoy, as yet, no copyright in Great Britain, except that architectural plans come as drawings' under the Fine Arts Copyright Act, 1862. Works of art

applied to industry,' which now appear upon the scene, belong to a category which savours much more of Patent than of Copyright law. Their inclusion in a Copyright Code, even though they are, as a compromise, left to be dealt with by each country, at its option, under its internal system, is a dangerous precedent. The course of revision shows that property which is admitted into the Union with this safeguard at one Conference is included in the general clauses at the next. For all classes of mixed property the analogous case of designs may serve as an example and a warning. Certain designs are at once capable of being copyrighted and patented. They are susceptible of protection under both categories, with, we believe, a resulting injurious diversity of treatment. Such conflicts of jurisdiction must not be multiplied. The sphere of Copyright is quite wide enough already within its legitimate limits to render an International Code bulky enough in all conscience. The worst of changes of this type is that they re-act upon domestic legislation. There are, for instance, indications that the new American Act will prove unwieldy by reason of the effort to make it universally operative. It is to be hoped that we shall ourselves take warning and not attempt anything in the shape of an omnium gatherum.

The case for increased simplicity as regards formalities might be taken as proved. Red tape has few friends, and any movement in favour of its abolition generally meets with popular approval. But in all matters of commercial concern certainty is absolutely indispensable, and it may be questioned whether the effect of the new rule will not tend towards modification in form at the expense of certainty in fact.

Article 4 of the new Convention runs : La jouissance et l'exercice de ces droits ne sont subordonnés à aucune formalité, cette jouissance et cet exercice sont indépendants de l'existence de la protection dans le pays d'origine de l'œuvre.'

One is lost in admiration of the catholic spirit which has inspired such a drastic innovation. To afford protection throughout the Union to property which is not actually protected in the country of origin,' or, in other words, which has no legal existence, is an anomaly indeed. The change seems to ignore altogether the world-wide basis of statutory copyright, which has, rightly or wrongly, come to be regarded in all countries as the reward for a public service. Great practical difficulty has, no doubt, been experienced in furnishing evidence in a foreign country and a foreign court-in order to assert foreign rights of due compliance with home laws and regulations. But some more satisfactory means might have been found of obviating actual hardship. Our own International Copyright Act, 1886, for example, provides that an extract from the register, or a certificate, authenticated by the official seal of a Minister of State, Governor, Diplomatic or Consular officer, shall be admissible as conclusive evidence

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of the existence of a foreign or Colonial copyright. Surely some uniform provision of international validity in any country and any court would be far preferable to a dispensation from any proof whatever? It should be easy to obviate any necessity for dilatory and costly enquiries into foreign law. Similarly, again, the authors of non-Unionist countries, who have hitherto been required to comply with the formalities of a Unionist country in order to secure the benefits of the Berne Convention, will, if the new Convention be ratified, simply have to publish simultaneously in a Unionist country, which will thereby become (Article 4) exclusivement considéré comme pays d'origine.' They will, moreover, henceforth enjoy all the rights of native authors, including, we imagine, the right of protection throughout the Union, without performing or giving proof of having performed any formalities whatever. But are they, it may be asked, to be required on occasion to establish publication as having taken place, if proof of the observance of any of the formalities in the country of origin' is to be dispensed with? It seems difficult to avoid such an absurdity arising as a claim to protection throughout the Union on the part of a non-Unionist author, although in point of fact he has not published in any country of the Union, simultaneously or at all. As things are, such publication has often been little else than bogus. In short, for non-Unionist as well as Unionist authors, clear and simple regulations as uniform as possible and capable of easy proof in any court, and any country, seem to be far preferable in the interests of both simplicity and certainty to the proposed change. For that matter, the new Convention, like the old, is lamentably barren as regards definitions. Some international agreement as to the incidents of publication,' for example, for all classes of copyright property is an urgent necessity. It is somewhat topsy-turvy for the Convention to pronounce œuvres éditées alone to be 'published works,' and to content itself by simply declaring negatively that the 'representation of a dramatic or dramatico-musical work, the performance of a musical work, the exhibition of a work of art, and the construction of a work of architecture, do not constitute publication.' Now registration is obviously a simple formality which would meet all cases and would be equally applicable to published and unpublished works. The machinery already largely exists. We have, apart from the British Museum certificate, a system in existence in England, although mainly operative only as a condition precedent to action. Twentythree British Colonies have independent registers of their own. the remaining fourteen Unionist countries, ten provide, more or less, for registration, or deposit of copies. Twenty-five non-Unionist countries, moreover, possess already a similar system. It is not easy, therefore, to see the cogency of objections to registration in the country of origin, or of first publication, or, in the case of unpublished works, that to which the author belongs. Such registration might,

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further, be made compulsory and a certificate thereof conclusive, at any rate for international purposes.

The term for which copyright shall endure will probably prove the most vexed question of all. The Unionist rule now is that this shall be that of the country in which it is sought, provided it does not exceed that of the country of origin.' Now the Berlin Convention boldly proposes to establish one term for all countries-that is, life and fifty years, the existing regulations being re-enacted for photographic, posthumous, anonymous, and pseudonymous works. There is no doubt a strong consensus of opinion in favour of international uniformity. The term proposed already exists in eight Unionist countries-i.e. France, Belgium, Tunis, Luxembourg, Monaco, Sweden, Norway, and Denmark. Life and thirty years is given by Germany, Switzerland, and Japan; life and eighty years by Italy and Spain. The proposed term, moreover, already exists in seven non-Unionist countries-i.e. Hungary, Russia, Finland, Portugal, Bolivia, and Costa Rica. There is, therefore, a strong numerical argument in favour of the change. But in England and America public opinion is slow to move progressively in all cases of privilege. Our own term was by the Act of Anne erroneously based on that of the Statute of Monopolies. The extension to life and seven years, or forty-two years, whichever is the longer period, was only won, as a compromise, by Sergeant Talfourd, in the Act of 1842, after a bitter fight, in which Macaulay was his strongest opponent, and in recognition of which Charles Dickens dedicated the Pickwick Papers to him. Life and thirty years was the period recommended by the Copyright Commission of 1878, and adopted by the Lords' Committee, 1897-1900. In the new American Act the period is put at fifty-six years in all. In England a new term will only, we may rest assured, be secured in the face of a determined opposition, and it was in the exercise of a wise discretion that the British delegates, by the direction of the Home Government, only gave their adhesion to the article (which did not appear at all in the texte provisoire) subject to the prescient reservation that if not universally adopted the existing rule should survive. It is singular that the question of differential treatment has not been more adequately discussed, especially in view of the wide distinctions which exist between the various classes of property subject to copyright. Literary property itself is not homogeneous, and could, as regards the duration of copyright, usefully be classified and differentiated. To claim protection for life and fifty years for copyright property indiscriminately is an insult to the public commonsense. Uniformity, whether international or domestic, can be attempted at a cost which is wholly disproportionate to any practical advantages likely to result. The point illustrates the inconvenience of attempting to sweep so many categories of property into the copyright net.

A question of some practical interest would arise as to the retro