"_Now, suppose a bad harvest, such as we have narrowly escaped, occurs, when undertakings of a gigantic nature are on foot, and a large quantity of specie is drawn from the bank to purchase foreign grain or other subsistence, what, under the existing law, must be the consequence?_ Must it not be that the paper circulation of the Bank of England and of course of every other bank, will be simultaneously and rapidly contracted? Their own notes pour in to be exchanged for specie to buy foreign grain, or make the necessary remittances to foreign undertakings. They cannot issue new ones beyond the £14,000,000, except in exchange for specie or bullion, which is the very thing they are every day losing, and which is bought up in all parts of the country for foreign exportation. The result is inevitable, that their notes must be called in as rapidly as the sovereigns go out. The screw must be put on; the circulation must, at all hazards, be contracted. If £10,000,000 of sovereigns are _drawn out_ to buy foreign grain, or to meet a demand for gold in foreign states, £10,000,000 worth of notes must be _drawn in_ to equalise the paper with the stock of gold and silver above the £14,000,000 authorised to be issued on paper securities. _The circulation will thus be diminished by £20,000,000, or nearly a third of its amount_, and that at the very time when the public interests most loudly call for its extension. “That may occur, too, at a time when speculations the most weighty are on foot, and the currency previously in circulation is most required for the wants of the community! The evil will not thereby be doubled: it will be quadrupled. Like all mischievous panics, its effects will go on as the squares. Is it possible to contemplate such a state of things without the most serious apprehensions: without deep regret that it should be established and perpetuated by acts of parliament? Does it not annul the best effects of a paper currency, that of having an elastic quality which causes it to expand when the metallic currency is contracted, and so obviate the ruinous and lasting effects of such temporary diminution on general credit? Is it surprising, when such is the law, that the mercantile classes watch the sky; that rain for a month in autumn gives a serious shock to credit, and that stock of all kinds rises or falls with the changes of the barometer? The Banker’s Act of 1844 should be styled--‘An Act for the more effectual transferring of panics from agriculture to commerce, and for perpetuating commercial catastrophes in Great Britain.’”