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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 199
Strasse, in Frankfort-on-the-Maine — being persecuted by some
wicked Jews there. And there was another poor English chap in
the place, too, who used to chirp that song behind the bars, and
died there, and disappointed the Philistines. I've seen a deal of
life, I have; and met with a precious deal of misfortune; and
borne it pretty stoutly, too, since your father and I were at college
together, Philip. You don't do anything in this way ? Not so
early, eh 1 It's good rum, Gann, and no mistake." And again the
chaplain drinks to the Captain, who waves the dingy hand of
hospitality towards his dark guest.
For several months past Hunt had now been a resident in
London, and a pretty constant visitor at Dr. Firmin's house. He
came and went at his will. He made the place his house of call ;
and in the Doctor's trim, silent, orderly mansion was perfectly free,
talkative, dirty, and familiar. Philip's loathing for the man increased
till it reached a pitch of frantic hatred. Mr. Phil, theoretically
a Radical, and almost a Republican (in opposition, perhaps, to
his father, who, of course, held the highly respectable line of politics)
—Mr. Sansculotte Phil was personally one of the most aristocratic
and overbearing of young gentlemen; and had a contempt and
hatred for mean people, for base people, for servile people, and
especially for too familiar people, which was not a little amusing
sometimes, which was provoking often, but which he never was at
the least pains of disguising. His uncle and cousin Twysden, for
example, he treated not half so civilly as their footmen. Little
Talbot humbled himself before Phil, and felt not always easy in
his company. Young Twysden hated him, and did not disguise his
sentiments at the club, or to their mutual acquaintance behind Phil's
broad back. And Phil, for his part, adopted towards his cousin a
kick-me-downstairs manner, which I own must have been provoking
to that gentleman, who was Phil's senior by three years, a clerk in
a public office, a member of several good clubs, and altogether a
genteel member of society. Phil would often forget Ringwood
Twysden's presence, and pursue his own conversation entirely regardless
of Ringwood's observations. He was very rude, I own.
Que voulez-vous ? We have all of us our little failings, and one
of Philip's was an ignorant impatience of bores, parasites, and
pretenders.
So no wonder my young gentleman was not very fond of his
father's friend, the dingy gaol chaplain. I, who am the most
tolerant man in the world, as all my friends know, liked Hunt little
better than Phil did. The man's presence made me uneasy. His
dress, his complexion, his teeth, his leer at women—Que sais-je ?—
everything was unpleasant about this Mr. Hunt, and his gaiety and