August 26, 2022

58.THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION | A SHORT HISTORY OF THE WORLD | H. G. WELLS

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE WORLD 
BY 
H. G. WELLS
58.THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION 

There is a tendency in many histories to confuse together what we have here called the mechanical revolution, which was an entirely new thing in human experience arising out of the development of organized science, a new step like the invention of agriculture or the discovery of metals, with something else, quite different in its origins, something for which there was already an historical precedent, the social and financial development which is called the _industrial revolution_. The two processes were going on together, they were constantly reacting upon each other, but they were in root and essence different. There would have been an industrial revolution of sorts if there had been no coal, no steam, no machinery; but in that case it would probably have followed far more closely upon the lines of the social and financial developments of the later years of the Roman Republic. It would have repeated the story of dispossessed free cultivators, gang labour, great estates, great financial fortunes, and a socially destructive financial process. Even the factory method came before power and machinery. Factories were the product not of machinery, but of the “division of labour.” Drilled and sweated workers were making such things as millinery cardboard boxes and furniture, and colouring maps and book illustrations and so forth, before even water-wheels had been used for industrial purposes. There were factories in Rome in the days of Augustus. New books, for instance, were dictated to rows of copyists in the factories of the book-sellers.

The attentive student of Defoe and of the political pamphlets of

Fielding will realize that the idea of herding poor people into

establishments to work collectively for their living was already

current in Britain before the close of the seventeenth century. There

are intimations of it even as early as More’s _Utopia_ (1516). It was a social and not a mechanical development.

Up to past the middle of the eighteenth century the social and economic

history of western Europe was in fact retreading the path along which

the Roman state had gone in the last three centuries B.C. But the

political disunions of Europe, the political convulsions against

monarchy, the recalcitrance of the common folk and perhaps also the

greater accessibility of the western European intelligence to

mechanical ideas and inventions, turned the process into quite novel

directions. Ideas of human solidarity, thanks to Christianity, were

far more widely diffused in the newer European world, political power

was not so concentrated, and the man of energy anxious to get rich

turned his mind, therefore, very willingly from the ideas of the slave

and of gang labour to the idea of mechanical power and the machine.



The mechanical revolution, the process of mechanical invention and

discovery, was a new thing in human experience and it went on

regardless of the social, political, economic and industrial

consequences it might produce. The industrial revolution, on the other

hand, like most other human affairs, was and is more and more

profoundly changed and deflected by the constant variation in human

conditions caused by the mechanical revolution. And the essential

difference between the amassing of riches, the extinction of small

farmers and small business men, and the phase of big finance in the

latter centuries of the Roman Republic on the one hand, and the very

similar concentration of capital in the eighteenth and nineteenth

centuries on the other, lies in the profound difference in the

character of labour that the mechanical revolution was bringing about.

The power of the old world was human power; everything depended

ultimately upon the driving power of human muscle, the muscle of

ignorant and subjugated men. A little animal muscle, supplied by draft

oxen, horse traction and the like, contributed. Where a weight had to

be lifted, men lifted it; where a rock had to be quarried, men chipped

it out; where a field had to be ploughed, men and oxen ploughed it; the

Roman equivalent of the steamship was the galley with its bank of

sweating rowers. A vast proportion of mankind in the early

civilizations were employed in purely mechanical drudgery. At its

onset, power-driven machinery did not seem to promise any release from

such unintelligent toil. Great gangs of men were employed in

excavating canals, in making railway cuttings and embankments, and the

like. The number of miners increased enormously. But the extension of

facilities and the output of commodities increased much more. And as

the nineteenth century went on, the plain logic of the new situation

asserted itself more clearly. Human beings were no longer wanted as a

source of mere indiscriminated power. What could be done mechanically

by a human being could be done faster and better by a machine. The

human being was needed now only where choice and intelligence had to be

exercised. Human beings were wanted only as human beings. The drudge,

on whom all the previous civilizations had rested, the creature of mere

obedience, the man whose brains were superfluous, had become

unnecessary to the welfare of mankind.

This was as true of such ancient industries as agriculture and mining

as it was of the newest metallurgical processes. For ploughing, sowing

and harvesting, swift machines came forward to do the work of scores of

men. The Roman civilization was built upon cheap and degraded human

beings; modern civilization is being rebuilt upon cheap mechanical

power. For a hundred years power has been getting cheaper and labour

dearer. If for a generation or so machinery has had to wait its turn

in the mine, it is simply because for a time men were cheaper than

machinery.

Now here was a change-over of quite primary importance in human

affairs. The chief solicitude of the rich and of the ruler in the old

civilization had been to keep up a supply of drudges. As the

nineteenth century went on, it became more and more plain to the

intelligent directive people that the common man had now to be

something better than a drudge. He had to be educated—if only to

secure “industrial efficiency.” He had to understand what he was

about. From the days of the first Christian propaganda, popular

education had been smouldering in Europe, just as it had smouldered in

Asia wherever Islam has set its foot, because of the necessity of

making the believer understand a little of the belief by which he is

saved, and of enabling him to read a little in the sacred books by

which his belief is conveyed. Christian controversies, with their

competition for adherents, ploughed the ground for the harvest of

popular education. In England, for instance, by the thirties and

forties of the nineteenth century, the disputes of the sects and the

necessity of catching adherents young had produced a series of

competing educational organizations for children, the church “National”

schools, the dissenting “British” schools, and even Roman Catholic

elementary schools. The second half of the nineteenth century was a

period of rapid advance in popular education throughout all the

Westernized world. There was no parallel advance in the education of

the upper classes—some advance, no doubt, but nothing to correspond—and

so the great gulf that had divided that world hitherto into the readers

and the non-reading mass became little more than a slightly perceptible

difference in educational level. At the back of this process was the

mechanical revolution, apparently regardless of social conditions, but

really insisting inexorably upon the complete abolition of a totally

illiterate class throughout the world.

The economic revolution of the Roman Republic had never been clearly

apprehended by the common people of Rome. The ordinary Roman citizen

never saw the changes through which he lived, clearly and

comprehensively as we see them. But the industrial revolution, as it

went on towards the end of the nineteenth century, was more and more

distinctly _seen_ as one whole process by the common people it was

affecting, because presently they could read and discuss and

communicate, and because they went about and saw things as no

commonalty had ever done before.