Thierichens was indifferent to the lofty purpose of these letters. His mind was depraved by the social custom of military Germany by which men of the officer class are in youth taught to consider themselves above the moral law. He was quite aware of the kinship of all emotions, and he promptly undertook to change the direction of these currents of passion into a channel more pleasing to his tastes. It was not long until he had narrowed his correspondence chiefly to three women and of these more particularly to two. Of these latter one was a German servant girl of rather better than average understanding, and the other a kindergarten teacher in the Middle West, one twenty-five and the other forty-five years of age. Their correspondence in both cases started on an exalted plane. It ended in depravity unprintable. Only a reading of the complete series of Thierichens’s letters to these women could give a full understanding of the heartlessness, the baseness, and the ingenuity with which this man, always playing upon their patriotic fervour, transmuted their finer feelings into the most degrading travesty of romantic love. He and the kindergarten teacher never met. But by the time their correspondence came under Government censorship it had become a blend of exalted patriotism and of passion perverted to the obscenities pictured on the walls of ruined Pompeii. Terrible as was the plight to which the teacher had descended, the case in which the German servant found herself was infinitely worse. Thierichens and she had met after their first interchange of letters and they had entered on a liaison of a character that became so base it cannot even be suggested. All this while Thierichens was in correspondence with at least eight other misguided women. Fortunately for them the strong hand of the law intervened and Thierichens to-day is safely behind prison bars for his crimes. In the midst of this promiscuous correspondence he was receiving letters of affection and devotion from his wife and children, two of which may well be reproduced to make clearer the depth to which he fell. One is from his little daughter Christel, the other from his wife. They are as follows: Kiel, November 26, 1916. MY DEAR FATHER: My darling, to-day the day of my 6th birthday, I will thank you all alone for the pretty things, lovely kisses for same. I hope my next birthday you will be with us again. I am praying every evening and morning to the dear God that he will protect my dear father, and that the war will soon be ended, and you come again to the dear Fatherland. Many hundred thousand kisses sent you, Your thankful daughter, CHRISTEL. Kiel, Germany, 23rd March, 1917. MY ONLY MUCKICKEN: