Basle, in Switzerland, near which he owns a beautiful villa. I did not
find him at Basle, 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