goldman_emma_raw.py

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goldman_raw = """
The history of human growth and development is at the same time the
history of the terrible struggle of every new idea heralding the
approach of a brighter dawn.  In its tenacious hold on tradition, the
Old has never hesitated to make use of the foulest and cruelest means
to stay the advent of the New, in whatever form or period the latter
may have asserted itself.  Nor need we retrace our steps into the
distant past to realize the enormity of opposition, difficulties, and
hardships placed in the path of every progressive idea.  The rack,
the thumbscrew, and the knout are still with us; so are the convict's
garb and the social wrath, all conspiring against the spirit that is
serenely marching on.

Anarchism could not hope to escape the fate of all other ideas of
innovation.  Indeed, as the most revolutionary and uncompromising
innovator, Anarchism must needs meet with the combined ignorance and
venom of the world it aims to reconstruct.

To deal even remotely with all that is being said and done against
Anarchism would necessitate the writing of a whole volume.  I shall
therefore meet only two of the principal objections.  In so doing, I
shall attempt to elucidate what Anarchism really stands for.

The strange phenomenon of the opposition to Anarchism is that it
brings to light the relation between so-called intelligence and
ignorance.  And yet this is not so very strange when we consider the
relativity of all things.  The ignorant mass has in its favor that it
makes no pretense of knowledge or tolerance.  Acting, as it always
does, by mere impulse, its reasons are like those of a child.
"Why?"  "Because."  Yet the opposition of the uneducated to Anarchism
deserves the same consideration as that of the intelligent man.

What, then, are the objections?  First, Anarchism is impractical,
though a beautiful ideal.  Second, Anarchism stands for violence and
destruction, hence it must be repudiated as vile and dangerous.
Both the intelligent man and the ignorant mass judge not from a
thorough knowledge of the subject, but either from hearsay or false
interpretation.

A practical scheme, says Oscar Wilde, is either one already in
existence, or a scheme that could be carried out under the existing
conditions; but it is exactly the existing conditions that one
objects to, and any scheme that could accept these conditions is
wrong and foolish.  The true criterion of the practical, therefore,
is not whether the latter can keep intact the wrong or foolish;
rather is it whether the scheme has vitality enough to leave the
stagnant waters of the old, and build, as well as sustain, new life.
In the light of this conception, Anarchism is indeed practical.
More than any other idea, it is helping to do away with the wrong and
foolish; more than any other idea, it is building and sustaining new
life.

The emotions of the ignorant man are continuously kept at a pitch by
the most blood-curdling stories about Anarchism.  Not a thing too
outrageous to be employed against this philosophy and its exponents.
Therefore Anarchism represents to the unthinking what the proverbial
bad man does to the child,--a black monster bent on swallowing
everything; in short, destruction and violence.

Destruction and violence!  How is the ordinary man to know that the
most violent element in society is ignorance; that its power of
destruction is the very thing Anarchism is combating?  Nor is he
aware that Anarchism, whose roots, as it were, are part of nature's
forces, destroys, not healthful tissue, but parasitic growths that
feed on the life's essence of society.  It is merely clearing the
soil from weeds and sagebrush, that it may eventually bear healthy
fruit.

Someone has said that it requires less mental effort to condemn than
to think.  The widespread mental indolence, so prevalent in society,
proves this to be only too true.  Rather than to go to the bottom of
any given idea, to examine into its origin and meaning, most people
will either condemn it altogether, or rely on some superficial or
prejudicial definition of non-essentials.

Anarchism urges man to think, to investigate, to analyze every
proposition; but that the brain capacity of the average reader be not
taxed too much, I also shall begin with a definition, and then
elaborate on the latter.

     ANARCHISM:--The philosophy of a new social order based on
       liberty unrestricted by man-made law; the theory that all
       forms of government rest on violence, and are therefore wrong
       and harmful, as well as unnecessary.

The new social order rests, of course, on the materialistic basis of
life; but while all Anarchists agree that the main evil today is an
economic one, they maintain that the solution of that evil can be
brought about only through the consideration of EVERY PHASE of
life,--individual, as well as the collective; the internal, as well
as the external phases.

A thorough perusal of the history of human development will disclose
two elements in bitter conflict with each other; elements that are
only now beginning to be understood, not as foreign to each other,
but as closely related and truly harmonious, if only placed in proper
environment: the individual and social instincts.  The individual and
society have waged a relentless and bloody battle for ages, each
striving for supremacy, because each was blind to the value and
importance of the other.  The individual and social instincts,--the
one a most potent factor for individual endeavor, for growth,
aspiration, self-realization; the other an equally potent factor for
mutual helpfulness and social well-being.

The explanation of the storm raging within the individual, and
between him and his surroundings, is not far to seek.  The primitive
man, unable to understand his being, much less the unity of all life,
felt himself absolutely dependent on blind, hidden forces ever ready
to mock and taunt him.  Out of that attitude grew the religious
concepts of man as a mere speck of dust dependent on superior powers
on high, who can only be appeased by complete surrender.  All the
early sagas rest on that idea, which continues to be the LEIT-MOTIF
of the biblical tales dealing with the relation of man to God, to the
State, to society.  Again and again the same motif, MAN IS NOTHING,
THE POWERS ARE EVERYTHING.  Thus Jehovah would only endure man on
condition of complete surrender.  Man can have all the glories of the
earth, but he must not become conscious of himself.  The State,
society, and moral laws all sing the same refrain: Man can have all
the glories of the earth, but he must not become conscious of
himself.

Anarchism is the only philosophy which brings to man the
consciousness of himself; which maintains that God, the State, and
society are non-existent, that their promises are null and void,
since they can be fulfilled only through man's subordination.
Anarchism is therefore the teacher of the unity of life; not merely
in nature, but in man.  There is no conflict between the individual
and the social instincts, any more than there is between the heart
and the lungs: the one the receptacle of a precious life essence, the
other the repository of the element that keeps the essence pure and
strong.  The individual is the heart of society, conserving the
essence of social life; society is the lungs which are distributing
the element to keep the life essence--that is, the individual--pure
and strong.

"The one thing of value in the world," says Emerson, "is the active
soul; this every man contains within him.  The soul active sees
absolute truth and utters truth and creates."  In other words, the
individual instinct is the thing of value in the world.  It is the
true soul that sees and creates the truth alive, out of which is to
come a still greater truth, the re-born social soul.

Anarchism is the great liberator of man from the phantoms that have
held him captive; it is the arbiter and pacifier of the two forces
for individual and social harmony.  To accomplish that unity,
Anarchism has declared war on the pernicious influences which have so
far prevented the harmonious blending of individual and social
instincts, the individual and society.

Religion, the dominion of the human mind; Property, the dominion of
human needs; and Government, the dominion of human conduct, represent
the stronghold of man's enslavement and all the horrors it entails.
Religion! How it dominates man's mind, how it humiliates and degrades
his soul.  God is everything, man is nothing, says religion.  But out
of that nothing God has created a kingdom so despotic, so tyrannical,
so cruel, so terribly exacting that naught but gloom and tears and
blood have ruled the world since gods began.  Anarchism rouses man to
rebellion against this black monster.  Break your mental fetters, says
Anarchism to man, for not until you think and judge for yourself will
you get rid of the dominion of darkness, the greatest obstacle to all
progress.

Property, the dominion of man's needs, the denial of the right to
satisfy his needs.  Time was when property claimed a divine right,
when it came to man with the same refrain, even as religion,
"Sacrifice! Abnegate! Submit!"  The spirit of Anarchism has lifted
man from his prostrate position.  He now stands erect, with his face
toward the light.  He has learned to see the insatiable, devouring,
devastating nature of property, and he is preparing to strike the
monster dead.

"Property is robbery," said the great French Anarchist, Proudhon.
Yes, but without risk and danger to the robber.  Monopolizing the
accumulated efforts of man, property has robbed him of his
birthright, and has turned him loose a pauper and an outcast.
Property has not even the time-worn excuse that man does not create
enough to satisfy all needs.  The A B C student of economics knows
that the productivity of labor within the last few decades far
exceeds normal demand a hundredfold.  But what are normal demands to
an abnormal institution?  The only demand that property recognizes is
its own gluttonous appetite for greater wealth, because wealth means
power; the power to subdue, to crush, to exploit, the power to
enslave, to outrage, to degrade.  America is particularly boastful of
her great power, her enormous national wealth.  Poor America, of what
avail is all her wealth, if the individuals comprising the nation are
wretchedly poor?  If they live in squalor, in filth, in crime, with
hope and joy gone, a homeless, soilless army of human prey.

It is generally conceded that unless the returns of any business
venture exceed the cost, bankruptcy is inevitable.  But those engaged
in the business of producing wealth have not yet learned even this
simple lesson.  Every year the cost of production in human life is
growing larger (50,000 killed, 100,000 wounded in America last year);
the returns to the masses, who help to create wealth, are ever
getting smaller.  Yet America continues to be blind to the inevitable
bankruptcy of our business of production.  Nor is this the only crime
of the latter.  Still more fatal is the crime of turning the producer
into a mere particle of a machine, with less will and decision than
his master of steel and iron.  Man is being robbed not merely of the
products of his labor, but of the power of free initiative, of
originality, and the interest in, or desire for, the things he is
making.

Real wealth consists in things of utility and beauty, in things that
help to create strong, beautiful bodies and surroundings inspiring to
live in.  But if man is doomed to wind cotton around a spool, or dig
coal, or build roads for thirty years of his life, there can be no
talk of wealth.  What he gives to the world is only gray and hideous
things, reflecting a dull and hideous existence,--too weak to live,
too cowardly to die.  Strange to say, there are people who extol this
deadening method of centralized production as the proudest
achievement of our age.  They fail utterly to realize that if we are
to continue in machine subserviency, our slavery is more complete
than was our bondage to the King.  They do not want to know that
centralization is not only the death-knell of liberty, but also of
health and beauty, of art and science, all these being impossible in
a clock-like, mechanical atmosphere.

Anarchism cannot but repudiate such a method of production: its goal
is the freest possible expression of all the latent powers of the
individual.  Oscar Wilde defines a perfect personality as "one who
develops under perfect conditions, who is not wounded, maimed, or in
danger."  A perfect personality, then, is only possible in a state of
society where man is free to choose the mode of work, the conditions
of work, and the freedom to work.  One to whom the making of a table,
the building of a house, or the tilling of the soil, is what the
painting is to the artist and the discovery to the scientist,--the
result of inspiration, of intense longing, and deep interest in work
as a creative force.  That being the ideal of Anarchism, its economic
arrangements must consist of voluntary productive and distributive
associations, gradually developing into free communism, as the best
means of producing with the least waste of human energy.  Anarchism,
however, also recognizes the right of the individual, or numbers of
individuals, to arrange at all times for other forms of work, in
harmony with their tastes and desires.

Such free display of human energy being possible only under complete
individual and social freedom, Anarchism directs its forces against
the third and greatest foe of all social equality; namely, the State,
organized authority, or statutory law,--the dominion of human
conduct.

Just as religion has fettered the human mind, and as property, or the
monopoly of things, has subdued and stifled man's needs, so has the
State enslaved his spirit, dictating every phase of conduct.  "All
government in essence," says Emerson, "is tyranny."  It matters not
whether it is government by divine right or majority rule.  In every
instance its aim is the absolute subordination of the individual.

Referring to the American government, the greatest American
Anarchist, David Thoreau, said: "Government, what is it but a
tradition, though a recent one, endeavoring to transmit itself
unimpaired to posterity, but each instance losing its integrity; it
has not the vitality and force of a single living man.  Law never
made man a whit more just; and by means of their respect for it, even
the well disposed are daily made agents of injustice."

Indeed, the keynote of government is injustice.  With the arrogance
and self-sufficiency of the King who could do no wrong, governments
ordain, judge, condemn, and punish the most insignificant offenses,
while maintaining themselves by the greatest of all offenses, the
annihilation of individual liberty.  Thus Ouida is right when she
maintains that "the State only aims at instilling those qualities in
its public by which its demands are obeyed, and its exchequer is
filled.  Its highest attainment is the reduction of mankind to
clockwork.  In its atmosphere all those finer and more delicate
liberties, which require treatment and spacious expansion, inevitably
dry up and perish.  The State requires a taxpaying machine in which
there is no hitch, an exchequer in which there is never a deficit,
and a public, monotonous, obedient, colorless, spiritless, moving
humbly like a flock of sheep along a straight high road between two
walls."

Yet even a flock of sheep would resist the chicanery of the State, if
it were not for the corruptive, tyrannical, and oppressive methods it
employs to serve its purposes.  Therefore Bakunin repudiates the
State as synonymous with the surrender of the liberty of the
individual or small minorities,--the destruction of social
relationship, the curtailment, or complete denial even, of life
itself, for its own aggrandizement.  The State is the altar of
political freedom and, like the religious altar, it is maintained for
the purpose of human sacrifice.

The average man with his self-sufficiency, his ridiculously superior
airs of patronage towards the female sex, is an impossibility for
woman as depicted in the CHARACTER STUDY by Laura Marholm.  Equally
impossible for her is the man who can see in her nothing more than
her mentality and her genius, and who fails to awaken her woman
nature.

A rich intellect and a fine soul are usually considered necessary
attributes of a deep and beautiful personality.  In the case of the
modern woman, these attributes serve as a hindrance to the complete
assertion of her being.  For over a hundred years the old form of
marriage, based on the Bible, "till death doth part," has been
denounced as an institution that stands for the sovereignty of the
man over the woman, of her complete submission to his whims and
commands, and absolute dependence on his name and support.  Time and
again it has been conclusively proved that the old matrimonial
relation restricted woman to the function of a man's servant and the
bearer of his children.  And yet we find many emancipated women who
prefer marriage, with all its deficiencies, to the narrowness of an
unmarried life; narrow and unendurable because of the chains of moral
and social prejudice that cramp and bind her nature.

The explanation of such inconsistency on the part of many advanced
women is to be found in the fact that they never truly understood the
meaning of emancipation.  They thought that all that was needed was
independence from external tyrannies; the internal tyrants, far more
harmful to life and growth--ethical and social conventions--were left
to take care of themselves; and they have taken care of themselves.
They seem to get along as beautifully in the heads and hearts of the
most active exponents of woman's emancipation, as in the heads and
hearts of our grandmothers.

These internal tyrants, whether they be in the form of public opinion
or what will mother say, or brother, father, aunt, or relative of any
sort; what will Mrs. Grundy, Mr. Comstock, the employer, the Board of
Education say?  All these busybodies, moral detectives, jailers of
the human spirit, what will they say?  Until woman has learned to
defy them all, to stand firmly on her own ground and to insist upon
her own unrestricted freedom, to listen to the voice of her nature,
whether it call for life's greatest treasure, love for a man, or her
most glorious privilege, the right to give birth to a child, she
cannot call herself emancipated.  How many emancipated women are
brave enough to acknowledge that the voice of love is calling, wildly
beating against their breasts, demanding to be heard, to be
satisfied.

The French writer, Jean Reibrach, in one of his novels, NEW BEAUTY,
attempts to picture the ideal, beautiful, emancipated woman.  This
ideal is embodied in a young girl, a physician.  She talks very
cleverly and wisely of how to feed infants; she is kind, and
administers medicines free to poor mothers.  She converses with a
young man of her acquaintance about the sanitary conditions of the
future, and how various bacilli and germs shall be exterminated by
the use of stone walls and floors, and by the doing away with rugs
and hangings.  She is, of course, very plainly and practically
dressed, mostly in black.  The young man, who, at their first
meeting, was overawed by the wisdom of his emancipated friend,
gradually learns to understand her, and recognizes one fine day that
he loves her.  They are young, and she is kind and beautiful, and
though always in rigid attire, her appearance is softened by a
spotlessly clean white collar and cuffs.  One would expect that he
would tell her of his love, but he is not one to commit romantic
absurdities.  Poetry and the enthusiasm of love cover their blushing
faces before the pure beauty of the lady.  He silences the voice of
his nature, and remains correct.  She, too, is always exact, always
rational, always well behaved.  I fear if they had formed a union,
the young man would have risked freezing to death.  I must confess
that I can see nothing beautiful in this new beauty, who is as cold
as the stone walls and floors she dreams of.  Rather would I have the
love songs of romantic ages, rather Don Juan and Madame Venus, rather
an elopement by ladder and rope on a moonlight night, followed by the
father's curse, mother's moans, and the moral comments of neighbors,
than correctness and propriety measured by yardsticks.  If love does
not know how to give and take without restrictions, it is not love,
but a transaction that never fails to lay stress on a plus and a
minus.

The greatest shortcoming of the emancipation of the present day lies
in its artificial stiffness and its narrow respectabilities, which
produce an emptiness in woman's soul that will not let her drink from
the fountain of life.  I once remarked that there seemed to be a
deeper relationship between the old-fashioned mother and hostess,
ever on the alert for the happiness of her little ones and the
comfort of those she loved, and the truly new woman, than between
the latter and her average emancipated sister.  The disciples of
emancipation pure and simple declared me a heathen, fit only for the
stake.  Their blind zeal did not let them see that my comparison
between the old and the new was merely to prove that a goodly number
of our grandmothers had more blood in their veins, far more humor and
wit, and certainly a greater amount of naturalness, kind-heartedness,
and simplicity, than the majority of our emancipated professional
women who fill the colleges, halls of learning, and various offices.
This does not mean a wish to return to the past, nor does it condemn
woman to her old sphere, the kitchen and the nursery.

Salvation lies in an energetic march onward towards a brighter and
clearer future.  We are in need of unhampered growth out of old
traditions and habits.  The movement for woman's emancipation has so
far made but the first step in that direction.  It is to be hoped
that it will gather strength to make another.  The right to vote, or
equal civil rights, may be good demands, but true emancipation begins
neither at the polls nor in courts.  It begins in woman's soul.
History tells us that every oppressed class gained true liberation
from its masters through its own efforts.  It is necessary that woman
learn that lesson, that she realize that her freedom will reach as
far as her power to achieve her freedom reaches.  It is, therefore,
far more important for her to begin with her inner regeneration, to
cut loose from the weight of prejudices, traditions, and customs.
The demand for equal rights in every vocation of life is just and
fair; but, after all, the most vital right is the right to love and
be loved.  Indeed, if partial emancipation is to become a complete
and true emancipation of woman, it will have to do away with the
ridiculous notion that to be loved, to be sweetheart and mother, is
synonymous with being slave or subordinate.  It will have to do away
with the absurd notion of the dualism of the sexes, or that man and
woman represent two antagonistic worlds.

Pettiness separates; breadth unites.  Let us be broad and big.  Let
us not overlook vital things because of the bulk of trifles
confronting us.  A true conception of the relation of the sexes will
not admit of conqueror and conquered; it knows of but one great
thing: to give of one's self boundlessly, in order to find one's self
richer, deeper, better.  That alone can fill the emptiness, and
transform the tragedy of woman's emancipation into joy, limitless
joy.

The popular notion about marriage and love is that they are
synonymous, that they spring from the same motives, and cover the
same human needs.  Like most popular notions this also rests not on
actual facts, but on superstition.

Marriage and love have nothing in common; they are as far apart as
the poles; are, in fact, antagonistic to each other.  No doubt some
marriages have been the result of love.  Not, however, because love
could assert itself only in marriage; much rather is it because few
people can completely outgrow a convention.  There are today large
numbers of men and women to whom marriage is naught but a farce, but
who submit to it for the sake of public opinion.  At any rate, while
it is true that some marriages are based on love, and while it is
equally true that in some cases love continues in married life, I
maintain that it does so regardless of marriage, and not because of
it.

On the other hand, it is utterly false that love results from
marriage.  On rare occasions one does hear of a miraculous case of a
married couple falling in love after marriage, but on close
examination it will be found that it is a mere adjustment to the
inevitable.  Certainly the growing-used to each other is far away
from the spontaneity, the intensity, and beauty of love, without
which the intimacy of marriage must prove degrading to both the woman
and the man.

Marriage is primarily an economic arrangement, an insurance pact.  It
differs from the ordinary life insurance agreement only in that it is
more binding, more exacting.  Its returns are insignificantly small
compared with the investments.  In taking out an insurance policy one
pays for it in dollars and cents, always at liberty to discontinue
payments.  If, however, woman's premium is her husband, she pays for
it with her name, her privacy, her self-respect, her very life,
"until death doth part."  Moreover, the marriage insurance condemns
her to life-long dependency, to parasitism, to complete uselessness,
individual as well as social.  Man, too, pays his toll, but as his
sphere is wider, marriage does not limit him as much as woman.  He
feels his chains more in an economic sense.

Thus Dante's motto over Inferno applies with equal force to marriage.
"Ye who enter here leave all hope behind."

That marriage is a failure none but the very stupid will deny.  One
has but to glance over the statistics of divorce to realize how
bitter a failure marriage really is.  Nor will the stereotyped
Philistine argument that the laxity of divorce laws and the growing
looseness of woman account for the fact that: first, every twelfth
marriage ends in divorce; second, that since 1870 divorces have
increased from 28 to 73 for every hundred thousand population; third,
that adultery, since 1867, as ground for divorce, has increased 270.8
per cent.; fourth, that desertion increased 369.8 per cent.

Added to these startling figures is a vast amount of material,
dramatic and literary, further elucidating this subject.  Robert
Herrick, in TOGETHER; Pinero, in MID-CHANNEL; Eugene Walter, in PAID
IN FULL, and scores of other writers are discussing the barrenness,
the monotony, the sordidness, the inadequacy of marriage as a factor
for harmony and understanding.

The thoughtful social student will not content himself with the
popular superficial excuse for this phenomenon.  He will have to dig
deeper into the very life of the sexes to know why marriage proves so
disastrous.

Edward Carpenter says that behind every marriage stands the life-long
environment of the two sexes; an environment so different from each
other that man and woman must remain strangers.  Separated by an
insurmountable wall of superstition, custom, and habit, marriage has
not the potentiality of developing knowledge of, and respect for,
each other, without which every union is doomed to failure.

Henrik Ibsen, the hater of all social shams, was probably the first
to realize this great truth.  Nora leaves her husband, not--as the
stupid critic would have it--because she is tired of her
responsibilities or feels the need of woman's rights, but because she
has come to know that for eight years she had lived with a stranger
and borne him children.  Can there be anything more humiliating, more
degrading than a life-long proximity between two strangers?  No need
for the woman to know anything of the man, save his income.  As to
the knowledge of the woman--what is there to know except that she has
a pleasing appearance?  We have not yet outgrown the theologic myth
that woman has no soul, that she is a mere appendix to man, made out
of his rib just for the convenience of the gentleman who was so
strong that he was afraid of his own shadow.

Perchance the poor quality of the material whence woman comes is
responsible for her inferiority.  At any rate, woman has no
soul--what is there to know about her?  Besides, the less soul a
woman has the greater her asset as a wife, the more readily will she
absorb herself in her husband.  It is this slavish acquiescence to
man's superiority that has kept the marriage institution seemingly
intact for so long a period.  Now that woman is coming into her own,
now that she is actually growing aware of herself as being outside
of the master's grace, the sacred institution of marriage is
gradually being undermined, and no amount of sentimental lamentation
can stay it.

From infancy, almost, the average girl is told that marriage is her
ultimate goal; therefore her training and education must be directed
towards that end.  Like the mute beast fattened for slaughter, she is
prepared for that.  Yet, strange to say, she is allowed to know much
less about her function as wife and mother than the ordinary artisan
of his trade.  It is indecent and filthy for a respectable girl to
know anything of the marital relation.  Oh, for the inconsistency of
respectability, that needs the marriage vow to turn something which
is filthy into the purest and most sacred arrangement that none dare
question or criticize.  Yet that is exactly the attitude of the
average upholder of marriage.  The prospective wife and mother is
kept in complete ignorance of her only asset in the competitive
field--sex.  Thus she enters into life-long relations with a man only
to find herself shocked, repelled, outraged beyond measure by the
most natural and healthy instinct, sex.  It is safe to say that a
large percentage of the unhappiness, misery, distress, and physical
suffering of matrimony is due to the criminal ignorance in sex
matters that is being extolled as a great virtue.  Nor is it at all
an exaggeration when I say that more than one home has been broken up
because of this deplorable fact.


If, however, woman is free and big enough to learn the mystery of sex
without the sanction of State or Church, she will stand condemned as
utterly unfit to become the wife of a "good" man, his goodness
consisting of an empty brain and plenty of money.  Can there be
anything more outrageous than the idea that a healthy, grown woman,
full of life and passion, must deny nature's demand, must subdue her
most intense craving, undermine her health and break her spirit, must
stunt her vision, abstain from the depth and glory of sex experience
until a "good" man comes along to take her unto himself as a wife?
That is precisely what marriage means.  How can such an arrangement
end except in failure?  This is one, though not the least important,
factor of marriage, which differentiates it from love.

Ours is a practical age.  The time when Romeo and Juliet risked the
wrath of their fathers for love, when Gretchen exposed herself to the
gossip of her neighbors for love, is no more.  If, on rare occasions,
young people allow themselves the luxury of romance, they are taken
in care by the elders, drilled and pounded until they become
"sensible."

The moral lesson instilled in the girl is not whether the man has
aroused her love, but rather is it, "How much?"  The important and
only God of practical American life: Can the man make a living? can
he support a wife?  That is the only thing that justifies marriage.
Gradually this saturates every thought of the girl; her dreams are
not of moonlight and kisses, of laughter and tears; she dreams of
shopping tours and bargain counters.  This soul poverty and
sordidness are the elements inherent in the marriage institution.
The State and Church approve of no other ideal, simply because it is
the one that necessitates the State and Church control of men and
women.

Doubtless there are people who continue to consider love above
dollars and cents.  Particularly this is true of that class whom
economic necessity has forced to become self-supporting.  The
tremendous change in woman's position, wrought by that mighty factor,
is indeed phenomenal when we reflect that it is but a short time
since she has entered the industrial arena.  Six million women wage
workers; six million women, who have equal right with men to be
exploited, to be robbed, to go on strike; aye, to starve even.
Anything more, my lord?  Yes, six million wage workers in every walk
of life, from the highest brain work to the mines and railroad
tracks; yes, even detectives and policemen.  Surely the emancipation
is complete.

Yet with all that, but a very small number of the vast army of women
wage workers look upon work as a permanent issue, in the same light
as does man.  No matter how decrepit the latter, he has been taught
to be independent, self-supporting.  Oh, I know that no one is really
independent in our economic treadmill; still, the poorest specimen of
a man hates to be a parasite; to be known as such, at any rate.

The woman considers her position as worker transitory, to be thrown
aside for the first bidder.  That is why it is infinitely harder to
organize women than men.  "Why should I join a union?  I am going to
get married, to have a home."  Has she not been taught from infancy
to look upon that as her ultimate calling?  She learns soon enough
that the home, though not so large a prison as the factory, has more
solid doors and bars.  It has a keeper so faithful that naught can
escape him.  The most tragic part, however, is that the home no
longer frees her from wage slavery; it only increases her task.
"""

goldman_docs = goldman_raw.split(". ")


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