went over to Brooklyn with him, dined at his place, and then
to a friend of his� house, where was the book.         Gave him
$5, (what he asked for it.)            Over to New York again, parted
and I to Weed�s, thence to room, which I quitted not, save
for supper during the day.       I like Field, he�s a gentlemanly
quiet fellow, & I think sensitive; � he was humbugged & wronged
by the Scoundrel Gleason.  /                           I�ve been looking
over these �Gavarni Ouvres �.           Wonderfully drawn & clever as
they are, how different a style of mirth is there in them from our 
English Artists productions.  How genial, how honestly mirthful
are all the exquisite conceits of John Leech in �Punch�.  Whereas
these french things are all more or less indecent.  Double entendre,
dirty inuendo, and Phallus-worship at the root of all.   What
a nation it must be, how rotten at the core to relish this, to take
it as a matter of course.         Adultery is an excellent joke, � the
unfortunate Coquardeaus, the wronged husbands are simply ludicrous.
A woman prostituting her honor is such a funny thing to a Frenchman!	
Fancy the loathing and fear of a good, home loving English mother
at seeing such sketches, decent enow in the drawing, but in
meaning & words, so steeped in impurity.             I wonder
whether there ever was, is, or will be a Frenchman who could love
the �Vicar of Wakefield.�!)
  I�ve learnt the right name of one of my favourites in English