ortune have taken possession of
the city. Had I not been aware of the cause, I should have imagined
that the plague was raging, and I had the description of Defoe before
me.

Not a smile on one countenance among the crowd who pass and repass;
hurried steps, careworn faces, rapid exchanges of salutation, or hasty
communication of anticipated ruin before the sun goes down. Here two or
three are gathered on one side, whispering and watching that they are
not overheard; there a solitary, with his arms folded and his hat
slouched, brooding over departed affluence. Mechanics, thrown out of
employment, are pacing up and down with the air of famished wolves. The
violent shock has been communicated, like that of electricity, through
the country to a distance of hundreds of miles. Canals, railroads, and
all public works, have been discontinued, and the Irish emigrant leans
against his shanty, with his spade idle in his hand, and starves, as his
thoughts wander back to his own Emerald Isle.

The Americans delight in the hyperbole; in fact they hardly have a
metaphor without it. During this crash, when every day fifteen or
twenty merchants' names appeared in the newspapers as bankrupts, one
party, not in a very good humour, was hastening down Broadway, when he
was run against by another whose temper was equally unamiable. This
collision roused the choler of both.

"What the devil do you mean, sir?" cried one; "I've a great mind to
knock you into _the middle of next week_."

This occurring on a Saturday, the wrath of the other was checked by the
recollection of how very favourable such a blow would be to his present
circumstances.

"Will you! by heavens, then pray do; it's just the thing I want, for how
else I am to get over next Monday and the acceptances I must take up, is
more than I can tell."

All the banks have stopped payment in specie, and there is not a dollar
to be had. I walked down Wall Street, and had a convincing proof of the
great demand for money, for somebody picked my pocket.

The militia are under arms, as riots are expected. The banks in the
country and other towns have followed the example of New York, and thus
has General Jackson's currency bill been repealed without the aid of
Congress. Affairs are now at their worst, and now that such is the
case, the New Yorkers appear to recover their spirits. One of the
newspapers humorously observes--"All Broadway is like unto a new-made
widow, and don