or, to a degree, it separates a
man from his kind.

The proper advice to a woman about to marry a philosopher would be,
"Don't!"

* * * * *

The advantage of a little actual hardship in one's life is that it makes
existence real and not merely literary. Comte was inclined to thrive on
martyrdom. His restless, eager mind invented troubles, if there were no
real ones, but he was wise enough to know this, as he once said: "The
trials of life are all of one size--imaginary pains are as bad as real
ones, and men who have no actual troubles usually conjure forth a few.
Thus far, happily, I am not reduced to this strait."

We thus see that the true essence of philosophy was there. Comte got a
gratification by dissecting, analyzing and classifying his emotions. All
was grist that came to his mill.

When he was twenty-eight the Positive Philosophy had assumed such
proportions in his mind that he announced a course of twelve lectures on
the subject.

He was jealous of his discoveries, and was intent on getting all the
credit that was due him. Money he cared little for; power and reputation
to him were the only gods worth appeasing. The thought of domestic joy
was forever behind, but philosophy came as a solace. A prospectus was
sent out and tickets were issued. The landlady where he boarded offered
her parlor and her boarder, second floor back, for the benefit of
science. Several zealous denizens of the Latin Quarter made a canvass,
and enough tickets were sold so that the philosopher felt that at last
the world was really at his feet.

When the afternoon for the first lecture arrived, no carriages blocked
the street, and as only about half of those who had purchased tickets
appeared, the difficulties of the landlady and her nervous boarder were
much lessened.

There was one man at this first lecture who was profoundly impressed,
and if we had his testimony, and none other, we might well restrain our
smiles. That man was Alexander von Humboldt. In various passages
Humboldt does Comte the honor of quoting from him, and in one instance
says, "He has summed up certain phases of truth better than they have
ever been expressed before."

Little did the landlady guess that her crusty, crabbed boarder was
firing a shot that would be heard 'round the world, and surely the
gendarme on that particular beat never heard it--so small and
commonplace are the beginnings of great things!

Comte was so