There is a grain of truth in this view with respect to petty unavoidable repairs in a narrow locality: but the capital spent on such is as a drop in the ocean compared with that embarked in a single large work. Consider the case of the London Building Trade, as practised in the suburbs on all sides of London. The London bricklayers thoroughly believe that it is their interest to be inefficient: it is said that they have a rule that no bricklayer shall ever lay a brick with the right hand; they have also a rule against "chasing," i.e. that no bricklayer, whatever his skill, shall lay more than a certain number of bricks a day; they believe that if the bricklayer laid a larger number of bricks he would get no more pay for a harder day's work, while the "work" would afford employment to a smaller number of labourers. Look however a little further. The speculative builders round London compete against each other, so that they carry on their trade on ordinary trade profits. Such a builder is building streets, house after house, each house costing him £800, and selling for £1000 say; and this, after paying his interest at the bank, etc., pays him about 10 to 15 per cent on his own capital embarked. Suppose now that the bricklayers increase their inefficiency either by a trade rule or by a combination to shorten the hours of labour. The cost of each house is increased £50 to him: nothing in the new bricklaying rules or rates affects the purchasers; the builder estimates that his profits will fall to 5 to 8 per cent on his capital. He does not care to pursue so risky a business at this rate of profit; he determines to contract operations. When he goes to his bank, a branch of one of the gigantic London joint-stock banks, at the end of the quarter, the manager of the branch comes forward as usual ready to continue the bank advances; but the builder says simply, "The building trade is not so good as it was," and declines. The increased cost of bricklaying has affected all other speculative builders in much the same way; the consequence is that "gold" accumulates in the branch banks. The secretaries and managers of the great joint-stock banks do not let their capital idly accumulate; they buy New Zealand 6 per cents, or transfer to Frankfort or New York the capital that, but for the rise in cost of bricklaying, would have gone to the London bricklayers. In this case it is easy to see that the quantity of work to be done is not limited. Should the cost of building diminish but a little, the rate of profit of the builders on their _own_ capital (in many cases not one-tenth of the capital they employ) will run up to 20 or 30 per cent, or even more; and at even a 20 per cent profit the bricklayers would find that a perfect rage for building would set in. Every speculative builder in the trade would strain his credit to the utmost, and take up every £100 from his bank that he could induce the bank manager to let him have.