'On the next day MUNDT gave me a letter to SEATSFIELD, directed to him at Bâsle, in Switzerland, near which he owns a beautiful villa. I did not find him at Bâsle, however, and I proceeded to Milan without delivering my letter. On my return from Italy, I happened to learn that SEATSFIELD was at Graffenburg in Silesia; and although it was forty leagues from my purposed route I encountered the delay, out of mere curiosity of seeing so distinguished a man. This time I was not disappointed. One day only I spent at Graffenburg, but that day was sufficient to fill me with a truly German (I wish I could say American) admiration of my countryman. Graffenburg, it should be remarked, is the famous scene of Doctor PRIESSNITZ'S wonderful hydropathic cures. Being there only for a single day, I did not think it best to submit in all points to the cold water treatment; neither did SEATSFIELD, for I noticed that he mixed two table-spoonfuls of gin with every gill of cold water. SEATSFIELD is a man of about middle-age, with a penetrating eye, and rather a good form, though not unusually muscular. His face bears a remarkable resemblance to the pictures of NUMA POMPILIUS; the benign smile of each is the same. His chin is round and full, although partially concealed by a slight beard; his nose, which is of a truly German outline, is marked by the 'dilated nostril of genius;' and his whole aspect is that of a thorough man of the world. I will continue my reminiscence by extracting verbatim a page or so from my imperfect, though as far as it goes, authentic diary. I am convinced however that his remarks will lose much from the want of his pointed manner of enunciation. His English was faultless, and he spoke as well as if he had never been out of America. Very few Americans indeed, and no British-Islanders, talk so correct and chaste a dialect. EXTRACT FROM MY JOURNAL. _Graffenburg, July 4_, 1844. 'I was very fortunate, they tell me, to find SEATSFIELD in so companionable a mood. He appeared in high spirits, and was exceedingly conversible. The glorious return of our national anniversary had a visible effect upon him. I presented my letter to him last evening, but he was weary, and retired early. When I first met him in the Upper Bath-room Walk, this morning, he congratulated me upon the brightness and brilliancy of the day. 'You have much to be thankful for, Sir,' he observed; 'the day is perfectly American. Just such a sun as this is now dawning upon Broadway and the Battery. The sound of India-crackers and the pleasant smell of lobsters is already perceptible to the senses of the awakening Manhattanese.' 'Boston, too, my native city,' I observed, 'is also alive to the holiday influences. Boston Common I dare say is already white with tents, and the fragrant commerce of the booths is just commencing on the Mall.'