FREDERICK ENGELS
THE POSITION OF ENGLAND
THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
On  the surface it may appear
that the century of revolution has passed England by,  bring ing few changes with it. Whereas on  the Continent  the whole
of the old world was shattered, whereas a war that lasted
twenty-five years cleared the air, everything remained calm
in England, and neither Church  nor  State appeared to be
threatened. And  yet since the middle of the last century
England has undergone a greater upheaval than any other
country, an upheaval which has had consequences all the
more  far-reaching for being effected quietly and which is
therefore more  likely to achieve its goal in practice than the
French political revolution or the German philosophical
revolution. England’s revolution is a social one and therefore
more  comprehensive and profound than any other. There is
no  sphere of human  knowledge and there are no  living conditions too  remote to have contributed to this revolution or,
on  the other hand, to have been in some  way affected by  it.
Social revolution is the only  true revolution, to which
political and philosophical revolution must  lead; this social
revolution has already been at work  in England for seventy
or  eighty years and at this very moment  is rapidly approaching its crisis.
The eighteenth century reassembled and gathered together
mankind from out  of the disunity and isolation into which
it had been thrown  by  Christianity; it was the last but  one

step on  the way to self-knowledge and self-liberation for
mankind, but  being the last step but  one meant that it was
still one-sided, caught up  in contradictions. The eighteenth
century summarised the results of the history that preceded
it, which had formerly appeared as isolated episodes and
coincidences, and elaborated its necessity and inner logic.
Countless  haphazardly confused items of knowledge were
ordered and systematised according to the causal connections
between them. Knowledge  became science, and the sciences
were approaching their culmination, i.e., linking up  with
philosophy,  on  the one hand, and practical activity, on  the
other. Before the eighteenth century there had been no
science; the cognition of nature assumed a scientific character
only  in the eighteenth century or, in isolated fields, a few
years earlier. Newton  founded the science of astronomy  with
the law of gravitation, the science of optics with the decomposition of light, the science of mathematics with the
binomial theorem and the theory of the infinite and the
science of mechanics with his cognition of the nature of
forces. Physics also assumed a scientific character in the
eighteenth century; chemistry was just coming  into being
thanks to the work  of Black, Lavoisier and Priestley1 ;
geography was elevated to the level of a science as a result
of the establishment of the shape of the earth and numerous
expeditions, which only  then were undertaken for genuinely
scientific purposes; the same applies to natural history, as a
result of the work  carried out  by  Buffon and Linnaeus; even
geology  started gradually to emerge from the morass of fantastic hypotheses into which it had degenerated. The concept
of the Encyclopaedia was characteristic of the eighteenth
century; it stemmed from the awareness that all these sciences were interrelated although it was not  in a position to
correlate them and thus had to content itself with mere
juxtaposition. The same is true of history; it is at this
juncture that we  first find voluminous  treatises on  world
history, still lacking critical or any philosophical analysis,
yet world history nonetheless, as opposed  to fragmented
history, confined to specific times and places. Politics acquired
a human  foundation and political economy  was reformed by
Adam Smith. The summit  of eighteenth-century science was

materialism, the first system  of natural philosophy  and the
result of that culmination of the natural sciences outlined
above. The struggle against the abstract subjectivity of
Christianity led the philosophy  of the eighteenth century to
the opposite  bias; objectivity was opposed  to subjectivity,
nature to the spirit, materialism to spiritualism, substance or
the abstract general to the abstract particular. The eighteenth
century saw the resurgence of the classical ethos as opposed
to the Christian one; materialism and the republic, the philosophy  and politics of the ancient world, came into their
own  once more  and the French, who  stood for the classical
principle within Christendom,  for a time assumed the
historical initiative.
The eighteenth century thus failed to resolve the great
contradiction, which had, from the outset, preoccupied historians, and the development of which constitutes the fabric
of history, the contradiction between substance and subject,
nature and spirit, necessity and freedom; yet it did delineate
the two  sides of this contradiction quite clearly and in the
entirety of their evolution, and thereby made its elimination
necessary. The result of this final, unmistakable evolution of
the contradiction has been the universal revolution spread
over various nations, the imminent  culmination of which will
also bring  about the resolution of the contradiction inherent
in history so far. The Germans, the Christian-spiritual
people, experienced a philosophical revolution; the French,
the classical materialist and hence political people, were
destined to enact a political revolution; the English, whose
national character is a mixture of German and French elements, and who  thus embrace both  aspects of the contradiction and therefore are of a more  universal bent than either
of the other two,  have been drawn into a more  universal,
social revolution. This point  requires more  detailed exposi tion since the place of the various nations, at least as regards
the recent period, has so  far been treated very scantily in
our  philosophy  of history or, to be more  exact, not  at all.
The assumption  that Germany, France and England are
the three leading countries of the present historical period
will, I think, not  be disputed; the fact that the Germans
stand for the Christian-spiritual principle, the French for

the classical-materialist one  or, alternatively, that the former
stand for religion and the church and the latter for politics
and the state is equally evident, or will become so  in due
course. The significance of the English in modern  history is
less conspicuous, but  for our  present purpose  particularly
important. The English nation was formed from Germanic
and Romance elements at a time when  the two  nations had
only  just separated and their evolution in the direction of
two  contradictory principles had hardly begun. The Germanic and Romance elements evolved side by  side, finally
forming a nation which embraces within itself both  unreconciled, contradictory principles. German idealism retained
such free scope that it was even possible for it to be converted into its opposite — abstract extroversion; the fact that
wives  and children can still legally be sold in England, and
the Englishman’s mercantilism in general, can definitely be
put  down  to the Germanic element. Meanwhile Romance
materialism was converted into abstract idealism, introversion, religiosity— hence the persistence of Roman  Catholicism
within German Protestantism, the Established Church,  the
papacy of the princes and the thoroughly  Catholic manner in
which religion is reduced to formalities. The character of the
English nation is that of an unresolved contradiction, a
combination of the starkest contrasts. The English are the
most  religious people in the world and at the same time the
most  irreligious; they concern themselves more  with the next
world than any other nation, and yet live their lives as if
this world were the be-all and end-all; their hopes  of heaven
do not  stop  them in the slightest from believing in the “Hell
where there’s no  money  to earn” . Hence the Englishman’s
constant inner anxiety, the awareness of his incapacity to
resolve the contradiction, which drives him outside himself
to activity. The awareness of the contradiction is the source
of his energy, but  a strictly self-releasing energy, and it is
the source of colonisation, seafaring and industry and, in
general, of the Englishman’s tremendous practical activity.
The incapacity to resolve the contradiction permeates the
whole  of English philosophy  and impels it towards empiricism
and scepticism. Because Bacon was unable with his reason
to resolve the contradiction between idealism and realism,

reason in general had to be incapable of doing so, idealism
rejected once and for all, and empiricism regarded as the
only  means of salvation. From  this same source also stem
criticism of man’s cognitive faculty and the psychological
school in general, in the framework of which English philosophy  has moved  from the very start. Finally, after all
manner of vain attempts to resolve the contradiction, English
philosophers declared the contradiction irresolvable and
reason inadequate and started seeking salvation in religious
beliefs or empiricism. Hume ’s scepticism today still provides
the model for all irreligious philosophising in England. It
argues that we  cannot know  if a God  exists; if one exists,
then all communication with us  on  his part is impossible and
we  have to arrange our  practical activity as if no  God
existed. We  cannot know  whether the soul is separate from
the body  and immortal; therefore we  live our  lives as if
this life were our  only  one and do not  concern ourselves
with things which are beyond  our  comprehension. In short,
this scepticism in practice is precisely the same as French
materialism, but  in metaphysical theory it remains incapable
of reaching a definite decision.
Because the English carried within themselves both  the
elements, which moulded the course of history on  the Conti nent, they were in a position to keep pace with  developments
there and at times even overtake them, while having little to
do with the Continent. The English revolution of the seventeenth century is nothing  other than the prototype  of the
French revolution of 1789. It is easy to distinguish in the
Long  Parliament the three stages which in France were to
take the form of the Constituent  and Legislative Assemblies
and the National Convention;  the transition from constitutional monarchy to democracy, military despotism, restoration and juste-milieu revolution stands out  clearly in the
English revolution. Cromwell  is Robespierre and Napoleon  in
one; the Presbyterians, Independents and Levellers appear
again as the Gironde, the Mountain,  the Hebertists and
Babouvists; in both  cases political results are rather lamentable and this whole  parallel, which could have been drawn
in still more  precise terms, demonstrates at the same time
that religious and irreligious revolutions, in as far as they

remain political, finally amount  to one and the same thing.
Admittedly, this lead of England’s over the Continent  was
only  temporary and was gradually balanced out; the English
revolution led to juste-milieu and the creation of the two
national parties, while the French one  has not  yet reached its
completion and cannot do so, until it achieves the result that
the German philosophical and the English social revolution
also have to achieve.
The national character of the English differs essentially
not  only  from the German but  from the French national
character as well; it is distinguished by  despair of eliminating the contradiction and by  the resultant total surrender to
empiricism. The pure Germanic element also converted its
abstract introversion into abstract extroversion but  this
extroversion never lost trace of its origin and always
remained subordinate to introversion and spiritualism. The
French also stand on  the side of the material and empirical;
but  because their empiricism is of a directly national bent
and not  a secondary consequence of a national consciousness
which is split within itself, it asserts itself as a national,
general principle and expresses itself in the form of political
activity. The Germans upheld the absolute legitimacy of
spiritualism and hence sought  to expound  the common  interests of mankind in terms of religion and later of philosophy.
The French opposed  to this spiritualism materialism as
absolutely legitimate and consequently regarded the state as
the eternal expression of these interests. The English however
have no  common  interests and are unable to speak of them
without  touching on  the sore point, the contradiction; com mon  interests drive the English to despair, they have merely
individual interests. This absolute subjectivity, the splintering
of the general into myriad particulars is, to be sure, of
German origin, but,  as already observed, it is separated from
its roots  and is thus only  empirically effective, and this is
what distinguishes English social empiricism from the French
political variety. France’s activity was always national,
conscious from the outset of its totality and universality;
England’s activity was the work  of independent individuals
existing side by  side, the movement  of unconnected atoms,
which seldom and only  out  of individual interests act to
gether as a whole, and whose  lack of unity  is at this very
moment  coming  to light in general poverty  and total disunity.
In other words,  only  England has a social history. Only
in England have individuals as such, without  consciously
advocating general principles, promoted  the advance of the
nation and brought  that advance almost to its completion.
Only  in this case have the masses acted as masses, each mem ber of them acting for the sake of his individual interests;
only  here were principles transformed into interests before
they could influence the course of history. The French and
the Germans are also gradually acquiring a social history,
but  they have not  acquired it yet. The Continent  has also
known  poverty,  misery and social oppression,  but  they did
not  influence national development. However,  the misery
and poverty  of the working  class in present-day England are
of national and, what is more,  universal historical significance. The social issue on  the Continent  is still completely
buried beneath the political one and has shown  no  sign of
separating itself from the latter, whereas in England the
political issue has gradually given way to the social one and
become subordinate to it. The whole  of English politics is of
a basically social nature and it is only  because England has
not  yet progressed beyond  the state and because politics
provides it with a last resort, that social questions are
expressed in political terms.
As  long  as State and Church  remain the only  forms in
which the universal destinies of the human  essence are fulfilled, social history is out  of the question. Thus  the classical
era and the Middle Ages  produced no  social development,
and it was not  until the Reformation, the first as yet timid
and half-hearted attempt at a reaction against the Middle
Ages, that a major social upheaval occurred, when  serfs
became “free” workers. Yet even this upheaval was to prove
of little lasting effect on  the Continent  and moreover  only
really took  root  after the revolution of the eighteenth century.
In England, on  the other hand, the Reformation transformed
the caste of serfs into villains, bordars, cottars,2 in other
words,  into a class of workers  that were personally free, and
the eighteenth century started unfolding the consequences of

this social upheaval. Why  this only  took  place in England
has been elaborated above.
The ancient world which knew  nothing  of the rights of
the individual, and whose  whole Weltanschauung was
essentially abstract, universal and part of its very substance,
could not  have existed without  slavery. The Christian-
Germanic Weltanschauung set up  abstract subjectivity— hence
arbitrariness, introversion and spiritualism— as its fundamental principle over against the classical ethos. This subjectivity, however,  was bound,  precisely because it was abstract
and one-sided, at once to reappear as its opposite, and give
rise to the slavery rather than the freedom of the individual.
Abstract introversion gave way to abstract extroversion,
rejection and alienation of man, and the first consequence
of the new  principle was the reinstatement of slavery in
another, less offensive, but  hence all the more  hypocritical
and inhuman form, that of serfdom. The disintegration of
the feudal system,  the political reformation, i.e., the apparent
recognition of reason, hence the actual culmination of non reason, appeared to do away with serfdom, while in practice
it merely made serfdom more  inhuman and more  universal.
This political reformation first pronounced that men  should
no  longer be held together by  force, i.e., by  political means,
but  only  by  interests, i.e., by  social means, and with this
principle laid the foundation for the social movement. Yet
although the reformation thereby negated the state, on  the
other hand it actually served to reassert the state by  restoring
to it the content that had formerly been usurped by  the
church and thus gave the state, which during the Middle
Ages  had played an empty  and negligible role, vigour  for
new  development. Out  of the ruins of feudalism there rose
up  the Christian state, the culmination of the Christian world
order in its political aspect; by  elevating interest to the
universal principle the Christian world order achieved its
culmination in another respect. Since interest is essentially
subjective, egoistic, individualistic and as such represents the
culmination of the Germanic and Christian subjectivity and
individualisation principle, the setting up  of interest as the
bond  among  men,  so  long  as this interest remains directly
subjective, quite simply  egoistic, inevitably leads to universal

disunity, the preoccupation of individuals with themselves,
mankind’s isolation and transformation into a heap of
mutually repelling atoms. This individualisation also represents the final consequence of the Christian subjective principle, the culmination of the Christian world order.
Furthermore, so  long  as the basic form of alienation—
private property — continues to exist, interest cannot be
anything but  private and its rule cannot be anything but  the
rule of property. The abolition of feudal servitude has made
“cash payment the sole bond  between men ” . Property, the
element, which is natural and inanimate and which runs
counter to all that is human and spiritual, has as a result
been placed upon  a pedestal and, in the last instance, so  as
to complete this alienation, money,  the alienated, empty
abstraction of property,  has been made the world’s master.
Man  has ceased to be a slave of man and has become a slave
of the thing,; the inversion of human  relationships has come
full circle. The servitude of the modern  world of traffickers,
the sophisticated, consummate, universal mercenariness, is
more  inhuman and all-pervasive than serfdom during the
feudal era; prostitution is more  immoral and bestial than
jus frrimae noctis.
The Christian world order cannot be carried any further,
it has to disintegrate and make way for a humane, reasonable order. The Christian state is merely the last possible
manifestation of the state in general and its fall must  lead
to the fall of the state as such. The splitting of mankind
into a mass of isolated, mutually repelling atoms already
implies in fact the annihilation of all corporative, national
and any other particular interests and the last necessary
stage on  the way to mankind’s voluntary unification.
The culmination of alienation in the rule of money  is an
inevitable stage through  which man, now  that he is
approaching that moment,  has to pass, if he is to return to
himself.
These consequences of the abolition of the feudal system
have been taken so  far by  the social revolution in England
that the crisis which will destroy the Christian world order
can no  longer be a long  way off. The era of this crisis, even
if not  in actual years or quantitative terms, can be forecast

quite definitely in qualitative terms; as soon  as the Corn
Laws 3 are repealed and the Charter4 is made law, namely,
as soon  as the aristocracy of the nobility is politically
defeated by  the aristocracy of finance and the latter, by  the
democracy of the workers.
The sixteenth and seventeenth centuries brought  into
being all the prerequisites of a social revolution, put  an
end to the Middle Ages, established social, political and
religious Protestantism, laid the foundation for England’s
colonial empire, sea power  and trade and created a grow ing, already fairly powerful middle class alongside the
aristocracy. Social relations became gradually more  stable
after the unrest of the seventeenth century and assumed a
definite pattern, which they retained until 1780 or 1790.
At  that time there were three classes of landowners: landlords of noble descent, still the only  and unchallenged
aristocracy of the realm, who  leased out  their land in plots
and squandered the rents in London  or while on  their
travels; landlords, not  of noble descent, or country  gentlemen  (usually known  as squires) who  lived on  their land,
and leased it out  and enjoyed among  their tenants and
other local inhabitants the aristocratic distinction denied
them in the towns  on  account of their lowly  birth, lack of
education and blunt country  ways. This class has now
completely disappeared. The squires of the past, who  lorded
it over the local country  people with patriarchal authority
and acted as counsellors and arbiters, all things to all men,
have died out  completely. Their descendants call themselves
England’s untitled aristocracy, complete in education and
fine manners, sumptuous  living and aristocratic habits with
the nobility, which now  outdoes them by  only  a small
margin, and have nothing  in common  with their blunt
and unrefined forefarthers except their possession  of the
land.
The third class of landowners was that of the yeomen,
owners  of small plots which they worked themselves, usually
in the good  old haphazard style of their ancestors. This class
has also disappeared from the face of England, expropriated
by  the social revolution, which gave rise to the curious
situation in which at one and the same time, while large

estates in France were being forcibly parcelled out, in
England small plots were being drawn into the large estates
and swallowed up  by  the latter. Alongside the yeomen  there
also existed small tenants, who  usually went  in for weaving
as well as working  their land, but  this group  is also no  longer
to be found in the England of today; now  almost all the land
is divided up  into a relatively small number  of large estates
and thus leased out. Competition  with richer leaseholders
drove the petty leaseholders and the yeomen  out  of business
and ruined them and they became agricultural day-labourers
or wage-earning weavers supplying  the masses who  flocked
to the towns,  which as a result were growing  at such an
amazing pace.
The peasants at that time used to lead a quiet, peaceful
life of honest piety harassed by  few worries, but  on  the
other hand inert, not  united by  common  interests and lacking
any education or any mental activity; they were still at a
prehistoric stage of development. The situation in the towns
was not  very different. London  alone was an important
trade centre; Liverpool, Hull, Bristol, Manchester, Birming ham, Leeds and Glasgow  were hardly worth  mentioning.
Spinning  and weaving, the main branches of industry, were
practised for the most  part in the country  or, at least,
outside the towns,  on  their outskirts. Metal-working and
pottery-making were still at the handicraft stage and
thus what real developments could be expected in the
towns?  The unequalled simplicity of the franchise spared
the townspeople  all political cares; they were nominal Whigs
or Tories but  knew  full well that in fact it made little
difference, since they did not  have the right to vote. The
town  dwellers consisted exclusively of petty merchants,
shopkeepers and artisans and theirs was the familiar life of
the small provincial town,  quite inconceivable in the England
of today. Mines  were still only  being exploited on  a small
scale; iron, copper and tin deposits were left more  or less
untouched and coal was only  used for domestic purposes. In
short, England was then in a position, in which unfortunately the majority of the French and, in particular, the
Germans still find themselves, in a position of antediluvian
apathy with regard to anything of general or spiritual
2*

interest, in social infancy, when  there is as yet no  society,
no  life, no  consciousness and no  activity. This position is a
de facto continuation of feudalism and medieval mental
apathy, which will only  be surmounted  with the emergence
of modern  feudalism, the division of society into property
owners  and the propertyless. We  on  the Continent,  I repeat,
still find ourselves entrenched in this position. The English
started combating such conditions eighty years ago and sur mounted  them forty years ago. If civilisation is a matter of
practice, a social quality, then the English are undoubtedly
the most  civilised people on  earth.
I mentioned earlier that the sciences assumed a scientific
character in the eighteenth century and that as a result they
linked up  on  the one side with philosophy  and on  the other
with practical activity. The result of the alignment with
philosophy  was materialism (which presupposed  Newton  just
as much  as Locke), the Enlightenment and the French po litical revolution. The result of the alignment with practical
activity was the English social revolution.
In 1760 George III came to the throne, drove out  the
Whigs,  who  since the time of George I had been in power
almost without  interruption but  had naturally ruled in
thoroughly  conservative fashion, and laid the foundation for
the subsequent  monopoly  of the Tories which lasted until
1830. Thus  the government  recovered its inner truth; in a
politically conservative age it was only  fitting for England
that the Conservative party should rule. From  then on  it
was the social movement  that absorbed the energies of the
nation and pushed political interest into the background,
even did away with it, since all domestic politics from then
on  were concealed socialism, the form which social questions
assumed in order to assert themselves on  a universal, nationwide scale.
In 1763 Dr. James Watt of Greenock began to work  on
the construction of the steam-engine and completed it in
1768.
In 1763 Josiah Wedgwood  laid the foundations of the
English pottery industry by  introducing scientific principles.
Thanks to his efforts a barren strip of land in Staffordshire
was transformed into an industrial area— the Potteries—

which now  employs  sixty thousand people and which has
played a highly important role in the socio-political move ment  of recent years.
In 1764 James Hargreaves from Lancashire invented the
spinning-jenny, a machine driven by  one worker,  which
enabled him to spin sixteen times more  yarn than had been
possible on  the old type of spinning-wheel.
In 1768 Richard Arkwright,  a barber from Preston in
Lancashire, invented the spinning-throstle, the first spinning-
machine originally intended to be driven by  machinepower. It produced water twist, yarn used as warp during
the weaving process.
In 1776 Samuel Crompton  from Bolton  in Lancashire invented the spinning-mule by  combining  the mechanical
principles on  which the jenny  and throstle were based. The
mule, like the jenny  spindle, span mule twist, i.e., the
weaver’s woof. All three machines are designed for processing cotton.
In 1787 Dr. Cartwright invented the mechanical loom,
which later underwent various improvements  and was only
ready to be put  into operation in 1801.
These inventions gave stimulus to the social movement.
Its immediate consequence was the emergence of English
industry, and in the first place the cotton industry. The jenny
certainly made the production of yam cheaper and, as a
result of the ensuing  expansion of the market, gave industry
its first impetus; however,  it left the social aspect, the type
of industrial production, more  or less untouched. It was
Arkwright ’s and Crompton ’s machines and Watt’s steam-
engine which set that movement  going  by  creating the
factory system. First of all small factories using  horsepower
or water power  came into being, but  these were soon  sup planted by  larger factories driven by  water or steam. The
first steam mill was set up  in Nottinghamshire by  Watt in
1785; it was followed by  others and soon  the new  system
became universal. The spread of steam-driven mills, just
as that of all other industrial reforms introduced at the same
time or subsequently,  proceeded with breath-taking speed.
Raw  cotton imports,  which in 1770 amounted to less than
five million pounds  a year, rose to fifty-four million (1800,1

and 360 million by  1836. At  that juncture steam-looms were
put  into operation and gave industrial progress  a new  impetus. All these machines were later to undergo countless
small but,  considered as a whole, very significant improve ments  and each improvement  exerted a favourable influence
on  the expansion of the whole  industrial system. All branches
of the cotton industry were revolutionised; printing made
untold progress  as a result of the introduction of mechanical
aids and of the advances made in the field of chemistry,
which also served to promote  dyeing and bleaching. Hosiery
production was also swept  along by  the same current. Since
1809 items of fine cotton, tulle and lace have been produced
mechanically. I do not  have sufficient space at my  disposal
here to follow through  the progress  of the cotton industry
step by  step; I can only  mention  the results, which in com parison with the antediluvian industry importing  four
million pounds  of cotton and using  spinning-wheels, handcombs  and hand-looms, cannot fail to produce an impression.
In 1833 in Britain 10,264 million hanks of yarn with a
total length of over 5,000 million miles were spun  and 350
million yards of cotton material were printed; 1,300 cotton
factories were operating which employed 237,000 spinners
and weavers; over nine million spindles, 100,000 steam-looms
and 240,000 hand-looms, 33,000 stocking-looms and 3,500
bobbin  machines were in operation; cotton-processing
machines with a total capacity of 33,000 steam h.p. and
11,000 water h.p. were operating and one and a half million
people directly or indirectly were drawing their livelihoods
from this branch of industry. Lancashire lives exclusively on
cotton-spinning and weaving and Lanarkshire, in the main;
Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire and Leicestershire are the chief
centres of the subsidiary branches of the cotton industry.
Exports  of cotton goods  have multiplied eight times over
since 1801 and the amount  of cotton goods  sold on  the
domestic market has grown  still more.
The impetus  given to cotton production soon  made itself
felt in other branches of industry. Formerly  the wool industry
had been the main branch of industry but  it was now  pushed
into the background by  cotton; however,  instead of going

into decline it also proceeded to expand. In 1785 wool  stocks
from three preceding years lay unprocessed; the spinners
were unable to keep pace with the stocks, using  nothing  but
their primitive spinning-wheels. So  a start was then made on
adapting cotton-spinning machines for wool,  a process that
was successfully completed after various alterations had been
carried out; after this the wool  industry underwent the same
rapid expansion which had already been seen in cotton pro duction. Raw  wool  imports  rose from seven million
pounds  (1801) to 42 million pounds  (1835); in the latter
year 1,300 wool  factories were in operation, employing
71,300 workers,  not  counting a large number  of hand
weavers working  at home  and printers, dyers, bleachers, etc.,
etc., who  also depended indirectly on  the wool  industry for
their livelihood. The main centres of this branch of industry
are the West  Riding of Yorkshire and the West  of England
(in particular, Somerset  and Wiltshire).
The linen industry was formerly centred in Ireland. The
first flax-processing factories had been set up  towards the
end of the last century, in Scotland as a matter of fact. The
machinery employed was still far from perfect; the material
gave rise to difficulties, which demanded major modifications
in the machines. They were first improved by  the Frenchman, Girard (1810), but  it was in England that these
amendments were first applied in practice. The use of steamlooms  in the linen industry followed later, and from that
moment  on  linen production soared at a tremendous speed,
despite competition with the cotton industry. The centres in
England, Scotland and Ireland were Leeds, Dundee and Belfast respectively. Dundee alone imported 3,000 tons  of flax
in 1814  and 19,000 tons  in 1834. Linen exports  from Ireland,
where hand-looms were to be found side by  side with steamlooms,  rose between 1800 and 1825 by  20 million yards,
almost all of which was sent to England, from where part
was subsequently  re-exported elsewhere. Between 1820 and
1833 exports  from the whole of Great Britain rose by  27
million yards; 1835 saw 347 linen factories in operation— of
which 170 were situated in Scotland— employing  a total of
33,000 workers,  a figure that did not  include a large number
of Irish hand-loom weavers. .

The silk industry first became important after 1824, when
the restrictive tariffs were lifted; since then raw silk imports
have doubled and the number  of silk factories has risen to
266, with a total of 30,000 workers. The main centre of this
industry is Cheshire (Macclesfield, Congleton  and district)
and then come Manchester and Paisley, in Scotland. Ribbon
weaving is centred in Coventry  in Warwickshire.
These four branches of industry producing yarn and
textiles were thus totally revolutionised. Home  industry was
replaced by  collective labour in large buildings; manual
labour gave way to steam-power and machinery. With  the
help of a machine a child of eight was able to do more  than
had twenty  adult men  previously; six hundred thousand
factory workers,  half of whom  are children and more  than
half of whom  are of the female sex, are performing what
would  otherwise be the work  of a hundred and fifty million
people.
This is, however,  only  the beginning  of the industrial revolution. We  have seen how  dyeing, printing and bleaching
have been expanded as a result of the progress  achieved in
spinning  and weaving and how  they have benefited accordingly from mechanisation and chemistry. Since the introduction of steam-driven machines and metal cylinders for
printing, one man has been able to do the work  of two
hundred; since chloride has been used for bleaching instead
of oxygen,  the time required for the operation has been
reduced from a few months  to a few hours. While the influence of the industrial revolution on  those processes which
the product undergoes after spinning  and weaving was considerable, its repercussions as regards the raw materials
used in the new  industry were even more  significant. It was
steam-power which first made the inexhaustible coal deposits
which stretch beneath England’s surface assume true importance. Scores of new  coal-mines were opened and the
existing ones worked with twice the former intensity. The
manufacture of spinning  machines and weaving-looms came
to constitute a separate branch of industry and attained a
high degree of perfection, not  achieved by  any other nation.
These machines were made by  other machines and a detailed
division of labour right down  to the smallest operations paved

the way for a precision and accuracy which are responsible
for the superiority of English machines. The production of
machinery in its turn  made an impact on  iron and copper-
mining,  which meanwhile received their main stimulus from
another quarter, but  one  still dependent on  the original revolution effected by  Watt and Arkwright.
The consequences of this initial industrial impetus are
endless. The advance of one branch of industry affected all
others. The newly  created labour force requires food, as
we  have just observed; the newly  created working  population brings  in its wake new  living conditions and new  needs.
The mechanical advantages of factory production bring  down
the prices of manufactured goods  and thus make the necessaries of life and, as a result, wages in general cheaper; all
other products can now  be sold more  cheaply and therefore
demand an extension of the market proportional to this
cheapness. Once there was an example of the advantages to
be gained from the introduction of mechanical aids, the innovations were gradually imitated in all other branches of
industry. The advance in civilisation which is the inevitable
consequence of all industrial improvements  creates new
needs, new  branches of production and hence further new
improvements. The revolution in cotton-spinning was bound
to bring  in its wake a revolution throughout  industry as a
whole  and if we  are unable sometimes to follow the. transmission  of the driving force to the further removed branches
of the industrial system, this is due purely to the lack of
statistical and historical data. We  shall, however,  soon  be
seeing everywhere that the introduction of mechanical aids
and scientific principles in general was the mainspring of
progress.
After spinning  and weaving, metal-working is England’s
chief industry. Its main centres are Warwickshire (Birmingham) and Staffordshire (Wolverhampton). This industry was
very quick to introduce steam-power and, as a result of this
and division of labour, production costs were cut by  three-
quarters. Between 1800 and 1835 metal exports  grew  to four
times their previous  total: in the first year 4,300 metric tons
of iron and an equal quantity of copper goods  were exported,
rising to 16,000 tons  of iron and 10,500 tons  of copper and

brass ware in 1835. It is only  recently that cast and bar iron
have been exported on  an important scale. In 1800 bar
iron exports  totalled 4,600 tons  and in 1835 bar iron exports
had reached 92,000 tons  and cast iron exports  14,000.
All English cutlery is produced in Sheffield. The use of
steam-power, especially for grinding and polishing blades,
the conversion of iron into steel, which only  then became
important, and the new  method for moulding  steel gave rise
to a far-reaching revolution in this field as well. Sheffield
alone uses an annual total of 500,000 tons  of coal and 12,000
tons  of iron, 10,000 tons  of which are imported (above all
from Sweden).
The widespread consumption  of cast-iron ware also dates
from the second half of the last century and only  acquired
its present importance in recent years. Gas-lighting (introduced in practice in 1804) created an enormous  demand
for cast-iron tubes; railways, suspension  bridges, etc., together
with various types of machinery, etc., increased the demand
still further. In 1780 puddling, i.e., the conversion of molten
iron into malleable iron in a furnace through  the expulsion
of carbon, was invented and this gave the English iron mines
new  importance. For  want of charcoal the English had
hitherto been obliged to obtain all their wrought  iron from
abroad. From  1790 on  nails were made by  machine, and
screws from 1810 onwards. In 1760 Huntsman,  of Sheffield,
invented steel-casting; machines for making wire were
devised and, in general, throughout  the iron and brass industry a mass of new  machines was introduced, manual
labour supplanted and, in as far as its nature would  allow,
the factory system  was established.
The expansion of the mines was the inevitable consequence of these developments. Until 1788 all iron ore had
been smelted with charcoal and iron extraction had thus  been
held back by  the scarcity of fuel. After 1788 coke (sulphurated
coal) was used instead of charcoal and within six years the
annual output  of iron had multiplied six times. As  against
the 17,000 tons  produced in 1740, 553,000 tons  were produced
in 1835. The output  of tin and copper mines has multiplied
three times since 1770. Together with the iron mines, the coal
pits ranked as the most  important branch of England’s min 
ing industry. The expansion of coal production since the
middle of the last century is incalculable. The amount  of coal
now  used by  the countless steam machines employed in
factories and mines, forges, furnaces and foundries, and for
domestic heating by  a population that has doubled over this
period, bears absolutely no  relation to the quantity being
used eighty or  a hundred years ago. The smelting of pig-iron
alone consumes  over three million tons  a year.
The building of industry led first of all to improvements
in means of communication. The roads in England in the last
century had been in as bad a condition as everywhere else
and indeed remained so  until the celebrated McAdam reformed road construction according to scientific principles
and thereby gave a new  impetus  to the advance of civilisation. Between 1818 and 1829 new  main roads with a total
length of 1,000 English miles, quite apart from minor  country
roads, were built and almost all existing roads were resurfaced according to McAdam’s principles. In Scotland the
public works  authorities have built over 1,000 bridges since
1803 and the barren moors  in the south  of Ireland, formerly
inhabited by  semi-wild bands of robbers,  are now  intersected
by  roads. Thus  all corners of the realm, which had formerly
been bereft of contact with the outside world, have been made
accessible, namely, the Celtic-speaking districts of Wales,
the Scottish highlands and the south  of Ireland have thereby
been obliged to make themselves known  to the outside world
and accept the civilisation forced upon  them.
The first sizable canal was built in Lancashire in 1755. In
1759 the Duke  of Bridgewater initiated the construction of
the Worsley-Manchester Canal. Since then canals with a
total length of 2,200 miles have been built. In addition, Eng land possesses 1,800 miles of navigable rivers, the greater
part of which have also been adapted for commercial pur poses  only  in recent years.
Since 1807 steam-power has been used for driving ships,
and since the first British steamship was built in 1811,  six
hundred more  have followed. In 1835 there were 550 steamships sailing from British ports.
The first public railway was built in Surrey  in 1801, but  it
was only  after the Liverpool-Manchester railway was opened

in 1830 that this new  means of communication assumed importance. Six years later 680 miles of railway had been laid
and four major lines from London  to Birmingham, Bristol
and Southampton,  and from Birmingham to Manchester and
Liverpool, were in operation. In the meantime the network
has spread over the whole of England; London  is the junction for nine railways and Manchester for five.*
*  The above statistics have been taken mainly from The Progress of
the Nation by  George Porter who  served on  the Board of Trade under
the Whig  Government  and may thus be presumed to have taken them
from official sources.5
The revolutionising of British industry lies at the root  of
all relations in contemporary England and it provides the
driving force behind the whole of the social movement. The
first thing it led to was the elevation of interest mentioned
above to its dominion  over man. Interest held in its grip the
newly  created industrial potential and started to exploit
it for its own  purposes. This potential, which belonged to
mankind by  right, was to become, under the influence of
private property,  the monopoly  of a few rich capitalists and
the tool for enslaving the masses. Commerce  was to absorb
industry and thus become all-powerful, the bond  of mankind.
All personal and national intercourse was reduced to com mercial intercourse and, in other words,  property,  things
became master of the world.
The rule of property  was bound  to turn  first of all against
the state and dissolve it or, at least, since it cannot do without
the state altogether, emasculate it. Adam Smith  started this
emasculation of the state at the time of the industrial revolution, when  in 1776 he published his Inquiry into the Nature
and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, thus creating the
science of finance. Hitherto all such science had been of an
exclusively national character; political economy  had been
regarded as a mere branch of state affairs and, as such,
subordinate to the state. Adam Smith  made cosmopolitanism
subordinate to national objectives and raised political economy  to the raison d’etre of the state. He  reduced politics,
parties, religion, in short, everything to economic categories,
and thereby acknowledged property  as the essence of the

state and enrichment as its goal. On  the other hand, William
Godwin  in his Political Justice (17936 ) supported the republican political system; at the same time as Jeremy
Bentham he formulated the utilitarian principle, whereby  the
republican salus publica suprema lex was taken to its logical
conclusion, and attacked the very essence of the state in his
proposition  that the state be an evil. Godwin  interpreted the
utilitarian principle still in a very general way as the duty of
the citizen to neglect individual interests and live only  for the
general good. Bentham, on  the contrary, carried the essentially social nature of this principle further; in keeping with
the national trend of that time he made individual interest
the basis of the general interest, acknowledged that the
identity of both  was expressed in the proposition,  later to be
amplified in particular by  his pupil Mill, that love of our
fellow-men is nothing  other than enlightened egoism  and
substituted the greatest happiness of the greatest number  for
the “general good ” . In his empiricism Bentham here makes
the same error which Hegel committed in his theory; he
makes no  serious attempt to surmount  contradictions, he
makes a predicate of his subject, the whole  dependent on  the
part and thus turns  everything upside down. First he speaks
of the inseparability of the general and individual interest
and then confines himself to blatant individual interest. His
proposition  is merely the empirical expression of the other,
to the effect that man is mankind, but  because it is empirically expressed, it gives not  the free, self-aware, self-creative
man, but  the rough,  blind man, still caught up  in contradictions, the rights of the species. Bentham makes free competition the essence of morality and classifies human relationships according to the laws of property, possessions,
according to natural laws, and thus the culmination of
the old, primitive Christian world order is the highest point
of alienation but  not  the beginning  of the new  order to be
created by  self-aware man in complete freedom. Bentham
does not  go  beyond  the state but  he deprives it of
all content, replacing political principles by  social ones
and making of political organisation a form for social content, thus bringing  the contradiction to the highest point
possible.

It was while the industrial revolution was taking place that
the democratic party came into being. In 1769  J. Horne
Tooke  founded the Society of the Bill of Rights,  in which, for
the first time since the republic, democratic principles were
discussed again. As  in France, so  these democrats were men
of purely philosophical education but  they soon  found that
the upper  and middle classes were against them and that it
was only  the working  class which lent their principles an ear.
From  among  this class they were soon  to found a party and
by  1794  this party had become quite strong,  but  still not
strong  enough  to exert anything but  an erratic influence. Between 1797 and 1816  no  mention  was made of the party; in
the turbulent years from 1816  to 1823 it was very active
again, and then stagnated once more  until the July  revolution. Since then it has retained its importance alongside the
other parties and is making steady progress  as we  shall see
later.
The most  important result of the eighteenth century for
England was the formation of the proletariat by  the industrial revolution. The new  industry demanded a constantly
available mass of workers  for countless new  trades and
indeed workers  unlike any there had been before. Up  to 1780
there had been few proletarians in England, as was inevitable in the light of the social situation in the nation described
earlier. Industry concentrated labour in factories and the
towns;  the combination of industrial and agricultural activity
was made impossible and the new  working  class depended
exclusively on  its work. What had been an exception in the
past became the rule and gradually spread outside the towns
as well. The cultivation of the land in small plots was ousted
by  the big tenant farmers and as a result a new  class of agricultural labourers was formed. The population of the towns
trebled and quadrupled and almost all this increase was due
to the growth  of the number  of workers  alone. The expansion
of mining  also demanded a large number  of new  workers,
and they too  lived by  their wages alone.
On  the other hand the middle class assumed the role of
out-and-out aristocracy. The factory owners  in the course
of this industrial advance multiplied their capital with
miraculous speed; merchants also received their share and

the capital created by  this revolution provided the weapon
with which the English aristocracy opposed  the French
revolution.
The result of this whole  movement  has been that England
is now  divided into three parties: the landed aristocracy, the
financial aristocracy and the working-class democracy. These
are the only  parties in England, the only  mainsprings which
function here, and how they are at work  we  shall perhaps
attempt to depict in a later article.
Written by  F. Engels
in February 1844
Published in Vorwarts!
(Paris), Nos.  70, 71, 72 and 73;
August  31, September 4, 7
and 11,  1844
Translated from the German