SIR,--On arriving in Warsaw a few days ago, I took the liberty of sending you some bottles of wine from our cellar, among which is some Hungarian Tokay, one of the oldest wines we have, bought by my great-great-grandfather, the father of General Vincent, in the year of the latter's birth. I hope you will be so good as to accept this little present and make it welcome; for, being young myself, I have chosen an old ambassador to thank you for your kindness to me. I can never sufficiently thank you for the charming way in which you have made me the handsome present of my grandfather's correspondence, which is of inestimable value to me. The more I read it the more I realise its value. It contains the whole developement of a noble character, and a fine nature, set forth in long, full, and frequent letters to a trusted friend. And what a pleasure it is to have the answers of this friend, so clearly showing your relations to each other, and the reciprocal influence of two minds! Thanks, and again thanks. I am very well, and am at present with my stepfather in the Grand Duchy of Posnanie. Our plans for the winter are not yet fixed. Paris attracts me greatly; but, on the other hand, I am advised to go to Heidelberg, where there is better air and a milder climate. In any case, I will endeavour to revisit England next year, and so recall myself to your memory. Agreez, Monsieur, l'expression de ma tres grande consideration, a laquelle je joins des sentiments respectueux pour Madame votre femme. ADAM KRASINSKI. To Mr. Norton Longman at this time Reeve wrote--primarily on the business of the 'Review,' but incidentally on a literary conundrum which was just then causing a little excitement:-- _Foxholes, September 16th_.--I do not think the translation of a French book on Political Economy is _prima facie_ advisable. But the book seems (from the accounts in the 'Nation') to be so excellent that I should be glad to see it, and may have it reviewed in the 'Edinburgh.' The title is, 'Le Capital, la Speculation et la Finance au XIXe Siecle;' par Claudio Jannet. Published by Plon. No one who knew Sir Richard Wallace could believe that he wrote 'The Englishman in Paris.' I said from the first that it was a mere collection of old gossip to be passed off on the English public as something racy. If Grenville Murray were alive, this is exactly the sort of thing he would have done. But Grenville Murray left a son, who must now be grown up, and who may have inherited some of his father's sinister talents. They have lived for many years in Paris. Sir Richard Wallace was the very type of a gentleman of the highest breeding--rather stern, melancholy, not at all humorous, and incapable of vulgarity or pretence.