A misanthrope hates all mankind, but is kind to every individual, generally too kind.

A philanthrope loves the whole human race, but dislikes his wife, his mother, his brother, and his friends and acquaintances.

Misanthrope is the potato: rough and repulsive outside, but good to the core.

Philanthrope is a peach: his manner all velvet and bloom, his words sweet juice, his heart of hearts a stone.

Let me read Philanthrope's book, and fall into the hands of Misanthrope." Edouard admitted the shrewdness of this remark.
"And so," said he, "my misanthrope will say plenty of biting words,--which, by-the-by, will not hurt you, who will not hear them, only me,--and then he'll lend us the money, and Beaurepaire will be free, and I shall have had a hand in it.