When one reflects that this quaint and old‐world little Portuguese colony is only forty miles from Hong Kong with its large garrison, our treatment by its insolent subordinate officials does not say much for the respect for England’s might which we imagine is felt throughout the world. I had another experience of an arrest in Japan. The spy mania is rife in that country; and no photographing is permitted in the fortified seaports or in large tracts of country “reserved for military purposes.” In the important naval station of Yukosŭka, an hour’s journey by train from Yokohama, an American gentleman and I were taken into custody by a policeman for merely carrying a camera which, knowing the regulations, we had been careful not to use. We found afterwards that our ricksha coolies had given information. I was fortunately able to speak Japanese sufficiently well to explain to our captor that we had no intention of taking surreptitious photographs of the warships in the harbour. I pointed out that as most of these vessels had been built in England it was hardly necessary for a Britisher to come to Japan to get information about them. Our little policeman—with the ready capacity of his countrymen for seeing the feeblest joke—was immensely tickled. He laughed heartily and released us. But shortly afterwards an Italian officer, on his way to attend the Japanese military manœuvres, innocently took some photographs of the scenery near Shimoneseki. He was promptly arrested and subsequently fined forty yen (£4) for the offence. A few days later an Englishman at Moji was taken into custody for the same crime. Moral: do not carry a camera in Japan; content yourself with the excellent and cheap photographs to be obtained everywhere in that country of delightful scenery.