e set our feet upon the road of enduring
progress.

Shall we pause now and turn our back upon the road that lies ahead?
Shall we call this the promised land? Or, shall we continue on our way?
For "each age is a dream that is dying, or one that is coming to birth."

Many voices are heard as we face a great decision. Comfort says, "Tarry
a while." Opportunism says, "This is a good spot." Timidity asks, "How
difficult is the road ahead?"

True, we have come far from the days of stagnation and despair. Vitality
has been preserved. Courage and confidence have been restored. Mental
and moral horizons have been extended.

But our present gains were won under the pressure of more than ordinary
circumstances. Advance became imperative under the goad of fear and
suffering. The times were on the side of progress.

To hold to progress today, however, is more difficult. Dulled
conscience, irresponsibility, and ruthless self-interest already
reappear. Such symptoms of prosperity may become portents of disaster!
Prosperity already tests the persistence of our progressive purpose.

Let us ask again: Have we reached the goal of our vision of that fourth
day of March 1933? Have we found our happy valley?

I see a great nation, upon a great continent, blessed with a great
wealth of natural resources. Its hundred and thirty million people are
at peace among themselves; they are making their country a good neighbor
among the nations. I see a United States which can demonstrate
that, under democratic methods of government, national wealth can be
translated into a spreading volume of human comforts hitherto unknown,
and the lowest standard of living can be raised far above the level of
mere subsistence.

But here is the challenge to our democracy: In this nation I see tens
of millions of its citizens--a substantial part of its whole
population--who at this very moment are denied the greater part of what
the very lowest standards of today call the necessities of life.

I see millions of families trying to live on incomes so meager that the
pall of family disaster hangs over them day by day.

I see millions whose daily lives in city and on farm continue under
conditions labeled indecent by a so-called polite society half a century
ago.

I see millions denied education, recreation, and the opportunity to
better their lot and the lot of their children.

I see millions lacking the means to buy the products of farm and factory
and by