inguished himself at this
period of his career. They were both prodigies, but, though rivals, the
fastest friends. After they had emerged from the Ecole Normale they went
and set up housekeeping together in an old house in the Quartier Latin;
and as they were both poor as rats, the difficulties they had in keeping
soul and body together recall the most picturesque and thrilling scenes
in Murger's _Vie de Boheme_. One day they discovered that they had
neither money nor anything to eat, and About started out to scare up
some nutriment for the inner man. After a while he returned laden with a
basket containing a dozen bottles of wine and various packets of
provisions, and followed by an organ-grinder. Taine was of course no
less pleased than astonished, but he demanded an explanation. "Oh," said
About, "I stumbled across a wine-dealer who wanted a first-class
advertisement done in the highest style of art, so I sat down and wrote
it for him, and he gave me fifty francs and this wine."--"But the
organ-grinder?" pursued Taine.--"Heavens!" exclaimed his friend, "you
don't think one can enjoy a banquet without music, do you? Come, fall
to; and you, old buffer, go to work on that divine instrument of yours;"
which the old buffer proceeded to do, probably more to the satisfaction
of his employer than to that of Taine.

Nor was lively companionship and assistance of this sort all that the
future philosopher and critic owed to the friend of his youth: he
probably owes him his life also, and hence the world is, in a sense,
indebted to M. About for the _History of English Literature_ and _Les
Origines de la France contemporaine_. While they were living in the
style above described Taine was taken suddenly ill, and, as the common
purse was not sufficiently full to enable him to consult a physician,
the two went to see a clever medical student of the quartier and
requested his advice. The budding doctor examined Taine carefully, and
finally pronounced that there was but one thing for him to do, and that
thing was to go to the Pyrenees. "You might as well tell me to go to the
moon," said the poor fellow. "Ah, well," replied the student, "you asked
my opinion, and I have given it; and I may add that if you don't do
what I tell you, you are a dead man." It may be imagined that the two
friends did not pass a particularly pleasant evening; but after much
cogitation About hit upon a possible means of relief; which, however, he
kept to himse