English manufactured goods. In India millions
of hand-weavers were finally crushed out by the Lancashire
power-loom. China was more and more being opened
up. Above all, the United States—then,
commercially speaking, a mere colonial market, but
by far the biggest of them all—underwent
an economic development astounding even for that rapidly
progressive country. And, finally, the new means
of communication introduced at the close of the preceding
period—railways and ocean steamers—were
now worked out on an international scale; they realised
actually, what had hitherto existed only potentially,
a world-market. This world-market, at first,
was composed of a number of chiefly or entirely agricultural
countries grouped around one manufacturing centre—England—which
consumed the greater part of their surplus raw produce,
and supplied them in return with the greater part
of their requirements in manufactured articles.
No wonder England’s industrial progress was
colossal and unparalleled, and such that the status
of 1844 now appears to us as comparatively primitive
and insignificant. And in proportion as this
increase took place, in the same proportion did manufacturing
industry become apparently moralised. The competition
of manufacturer against manufacturer by means of petty
thefts upon the workpeople did no longer pay.
Trade had outgrown such low means of making money;
they were not worth while practising for the manufacturing
millionaire, and served merely to keep alive the competition
of smaller traders, thankful to pick up a penny wherever
they could. Thus the truck system was suppressed,
the Ten Hours’ Bill was enacted, and a number
of other secondary reforms introduced—much
against the spirit of Free Trade and unbridled competition,
but quite as much in favour of the giant-capitalist
in his competition with his less favoured brother.
Moreover, the larger the concern, and with it the
number of hands, the greater the loss and inconvenience
caused by every conflict between master and men; and
thus a new spirit came over the masters, especially
the large ones, which taught them to avoid unnecessary
squabbles, to acquiesce in the existence and power
of Trades’ Unions, and finally even to discover
in strikes—at opportune times—a
powerful means to serve their own ends. The
largest manufacturers, formerly the leaders of the
war against the working-class, were now the foremost
to preach peace and harmony. And for a very
good reason. The fact is, that all these concessions
to justice and philanthropy were nothing else but means
to accelerate the concentration of capital in the hands
of the few, for whom the niggardly extra extortions
of former years had lost all importance and had become
actual nuisances; and to crush all the quicker and
all the safer their smaller competitors, who could
not make both ends meet without such perquisites.
Thus the development of production on the basis of
the capitalistic system has of itself sufficed—at