The truth seems to be that as regards the military spy in time of war, popular opinion stands in need of revision. In the face of the instances quoted, it cannot be fairly said that the military spy is necessarily a man of dishonour. The spy and the revolutionary, in some respects, fall under the same category. If they succeed, well and good; if they fail, they pay the inevitable penalty, and no mercy is shown them. Yet the revolutionary as well as the spy may be a person of blameless honour. As a matter of fact, the Germans themselves--whose sense of honour no one will regard as being excessively nice--seem to recognise the distinction between the military spy and the wretched agents of espionage, of whom they have made abundant use, who in times of peace, work, and can only work, by abusing the hospitality of the nation among whom they live, and by tempting men to betray their honour and their country's secrets. The Japanese, too, one of the proudest of nations, and with a code of honour as strict as any in the world, have recognised that there is nothing essentially dishonourable about the military spy. During the war with Russia, Mr. Douglas Story relates, they captured a Russian who was spying disguised as a Chinaman. They shot him, of course, but they afterwards sent into the Russian lines a message in which they hailed the spy as a brave man, and expressed the hope that the Russian army held many others equally brave. Perhaps the most remarkable spy case on record is that of Major André, which aroused the fiercest indignation during the American War of Independence. André, who was born in London in 1751, joined the British Army in Canada, and became aide-de-camp to General Clinton. Benedict Arnold, an American commandant, had undertaken to surrender to the British forces a fortress on the Hudson River, and André was sent by Clinton to make the necessary arrangements. On the night of September 20th, 1780, Arnold and André met at a place called Haverstraw, on the Hudson River. Then André changed his uniform for plain clothes, and attempted to pass through the American lines by means of a passport given him by Arnold in the name of John Anderson. As he was approaching the British lines, however, he was captured by a patrol of the enemy, who handed him over to the American military authorities. Washington at once convened a board of officers, who found André guilty of espionage, and declared that he ought to be put to death. Curiously enough, André himself did not protest against this sentence; all that he asked was that he should be shot instead of suffering the ignominious death of hanging. This request, however, was refused, and, accordingly, he was hanged on October 2nd, 1780.