In the book of Job we read that when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, Satan came also among them. When asked if he had considered the uprightness of Job, Satan answered, "Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will be give for his life," implying that men value more highly than all else the sense of life which they possess. Generally speaking, this is true. Human life is what men consider most precious, what they cling to closest and part with last.
To preserve this life in harmony and happiness is the perpetual effort of mankind, and, with the inadequate means generally employed, the effort is usually a vain struggle. Every system or theory calculated to make this struggle easier, or to give hope of success, soon gains attention, even though it be vain and visionary and without practical results to support it. It seems incredible that men of even ordinary intelligence could be fascinated by such hallucinations as are at times advanced as a means to the attainment of this end. To illustrate, take the hope that allured Ponce de Leon and his followers in their search for the fountain of perpetual youth. We wonder at their credulity in being led by such a will-o'the-wisp, and yet not one whit less foolish and delusive are the many material methods proffered to-day as means by which this hope may be realized, and of which it may well be said, "All is vanity."
But what is this life about which men are so concerned —this thing for which they are in such continual fear, yet from which they hope to attain so much? How shall it be defined? Strange as it may appear, no adequate definition is to be found among all our lexicographers. No one can tell just what that is of which men are so sensible and with which they feel so familiar. A strange, flickering uncertainty it is, this thing called mortal life. The apostle James defines it as "a vapor, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away." It seems to be a riddle which every one must face and endeavor to solve. It is made up of hopes and disappointments, joys and sorrows, health and sickness, strength and weakness, good and evil,—a series of manifest antipodes. It cannot be otherwise, since all mortal life is but the fruit of "the tree of knowledge of good and evil." On the breast of prosperity's wave to-day, men find themselves in the trough of despair to-morrow; bright with hopeful assurance in the morning, in the evening they find themselves under the cloud of disappointment. Surely there is something wrong with such a sense of life.
