ended his letter: "Adieu! I think only of thee, and I love thee like
the madman that I am."

Perhaps the truest proof of Heine's love for Mathilde is the way in
which, in his will, he flattered his despicable cousin, Carl Heine,
for her sake, so that she might not suffer any loss of his
inheritance. There is no doubt that Heine knew the worth of his
Mathilde. If so terrible a critic of human nature was satisfied to
love and live with her for so many years, we may be sure that
Mathilde was a remarkable woman. She didn't indeed talk poetry and
philosophy, like little "Mouche," but then the women who do that
are legion; and Mathilde was one of those rarer women who are just
women, and love they know not why.

In saying this, we mustn't forget that "Camille Selden" said it was
ridiculous to sentimentalize about Mme. Heine. Yet, at the same time,
we must remember Heine's point of view. When "Camille Selden" first
sought his acquaintance, he had been living with Mathilde for some
twenty years. Men of genius--and even ordinary men are not apt to
live with women they do not love for twenty years; and that Heine did
perhaps the one wise thing of his life in marrying his Mathilde there
can be very little doubt.

To a man such as Heine a woman is not so much a personality as a
beautiful embodiment of the elements: "Earth, air, fire and water met
together in a rose."' If she is beautiful, he will waive
"intellectual sympathy"; if she is good, he will not mind her
forgetting the titles of his books. When she becomes a mother, he
--being a man of genius--understands that she is a more wonderful
being than he can ever hope to be.