Now, on consideration, the calling of a spy reveals itself as one of doubtful honesty, no matter what the motives prompting the spy may be-- and the soldier is at all times supposed to be a man of honour and strict integrity--which he usually is. Whether the spy be a British, French, Russian, or German subject, he is engaged in abusing the hospitality of the country on which he is spying, and, from a military point of view, is not playing the game. So little is he playing the game, in fact, that in time of peace his government refuses to recognise him if he fails, and in time of war he gets no combatant rights, but is shot out of hand by the enemy into whose hands he falls. The formality of a trial is unnecessary, if the fact of espionage, accomplished or attempted, be apparent. Guilty of what cannot be called other than a mean act, attempting to endanger the lives of soldiers by unsoldierly methods, in revealing himself as a spy a man condemns himself and passes his own sentence--which is as it should be. And yet two of the Great Powers permit commissioned officers to undertake this dirty work, as it must be called! Germany has realised that special men ought to be employed for this special, necessary, but at the same time despicable business. Your perfect spy is a man of criminal impulse, a moral pervert of sorts, and, recognising this, Stieber and his followers in the government of the system have organised a separate branch of the Great German General Staff, a branch made up of chosen men and women, of whom the men may at one time have held military or naval commissions in this warlike nation, but very few are officers on the active list. It has been realised in this land of nearly perfect espionage that the duties of a spy and those of an officer of the services--of either service--are not compatible.