abasing of conditions in societies where men are enslaved as tools of other men or of a state machine; it can be the source of greatest satisfaction if it means the enrichment of personal life by the sharing of the best by the most—through a realization of common interests, common efforts, common humanity, and common fate.

Our political institutions do not themselves constitute democracy. They can only establish a climate in which democracy may flourish. Majority rule and peaceful concurrence by the minority, which are terms of democracy, have validity only when the majority exercises its power both with restraint and with concern for the problems and attitudes of the minority. Both sides must have that essential respect for themselves and for each other which makes them unwilling to be either masters or slaves.

Our political institutions will, then, have real meaning and a good chance of survival only if they reflect a way of life in which all the myriad nonpolitical associations and relationships between people and organizations breathe the spirit of democracy. When the democratic spirit is deep and strong in a society it animates every phase of living: economic, social, and political relations among groups and nations, as well as personal relations among men. This integration of democratic ideals with the life of individuals and with society can be realized only when it is lived—when it has become an established attitude and custom, a way by which men work and live each day of their lives—not just an abstract theory. Only then will democracy permeate the entire structure of our society, bringing with it a wide diffusion of contentment and confidence.

The real meaning of democracy for the people of this or any generation lies in how it is interpreted in action, how it is applied in their daily lives, in the means it uses, and in the character of its institutions and practices. No one pretends that democracy here or elsewhere is now perfect or that it will ever become perfect. For this is the essence of