Abstract
As far as Heine's Memoirs are concerned this grisly prophecy has been fulfilled; for, a hundred years after his death, it must be presumed that nothing more will ever come to light than the enchanting opening fragment barbarously mutilated by his brother Max. The vicissitudes of the Memoirs during Heine's lifetime and after his death are part of the lamentable tale of his uncle Solomon's callous will and his cousin Carl's ruthlessness. The latter had the whip hand, and used it with so little compunction that he broke the wildly resisting heart of the poet, who burnt large portions of the Memoirs himself and obviously connived at the posthumous suppression of the rest. This was in truth to violate his corpse, and nothing can ever condone the outrage committed upon him or compensate for the irreparable loss to posterity. The extent of what he has suffered and we have missed by the disappearance of the crown of his life's work, the justification and the fulfilment of his whole existence, as Heine declared the Memoirs to be, remains a perennially vexed and burning question.
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