Philadelphia, January to March, 1842

Wishing to borrow some books at a circulating library, I presented several dollar notes as a deposit. At home there might have been a ringing of coin upon the counter, to ascertain whether it was true or counterfeit; here the shopwoman referred to a small pamphlet, re-edited "semi-monthly," called a "Detector," and containing an interminable list of banks in all parts of the Union, with information as to their present condition, whether solvent or not, and whether paying in specie, and adding a description of "spurious notes."

After a slight hesitation, the perplexed librarian shook her head, and declaring her belief that my notes were as good as any others, said, if I would promise to take them back again on my return, and pay her in cash, I might have the volumes.

It often happened that when we offered to buy articles of small value in shops, or fruit in the market, the venders [sic] declined to have any dealings with us, unless we paid in specie. They remarked that their change might in a few days be worth more than our paper. Many farmers and gardeners are ceasing to bring their produce to market, although the crops are very abundant, and prices are rising higher and higher, as if the city was besieged.

My American friends, anxious that I should not be a loser, examined all my dollar notes, and persuaded me, before I set out on my travels, to convert them into gold, at a discount of eight per cent. In less than four weeks after this transaction, there was a general return to cash payments, and the four banks by which the greater part of my paper had been issued, all failed.