The Government recently decided to arrest all enemy aliens between the ages of 17 and 45. This, of course, meant that all men of military age were to be arrested, and it was a welcome step. No doubt this decision, which was announced on October 22nd, considerably reduced the danger of espionage arrangements that had previously been made, by removing many of the agents. But are we to assume that the Home Secretary considers that no German over 45 is capable of acting the part of a spy? Or is he under the impression that 45 is the utmost age attained by Germans in this country? "After this war," said Mr. Justice Ridley at Worcester Assizes on October 22nd, "we must make an end of spies. The German nation appears to think that it can conquer Europe by a system of espionage. We will have no more of that." Most people will concur with the learned judge's view, but will regard it as rather belated to wait till "the end of the war" to make an end of the German espionage which is rampant _now_! It is often represented by well-meaning people that it would be unjust, and not in accordance with British fair-play, to take steps against aliens who have become naturalised. We are told that these people have been promised the full liberty accorded to British-born subjects, and that to treat them in a manner different from other Englishmen would be to go back upon our solemn undertaking. I confess this argument leaves me unmoved. We have no use for the unpatriotic get-rich-at-the-expense-of-your-neighbour arguments. We are Britons, and Britons we will remain in spite of the puny leading articles in unimportant papers. Naturalisation, in the great majority of cases, means absolutely nothing; it is, indeed, usually adopted purely for business reasons. Seldom does a German become so imbued with profound veneration for our institutions and customs that nothing short of citizenship of our Empire will satisfy his sacred feelings of patriotism. Moreover, naturalisation is one of the spy's favourite devices, and surely one of his best methods of disarming any possible suspicion. But these are not ordinary times, and the requirements of the situation as we see it cannot surely be met by ordinary methods. Nothing is more jealously guarded in this country than the right to be protected from arbitrary imprisonment. No one in England can be arrested and kept in custody for more than a few hours without being fully informed of the nature of the charge against him, and brought before a magistrate, whose duty it is to decide whether there is a _prima facie_ case against him, upon which he should be sent for trial. That, in ordinary times, is the British practice. Yet, only a few days before I write, the High Court refused an order, under the Habeas Corpus Act, that an Englishman, who had been imprisoned for over a week without any charge having been made against him, should be brought up for trial.