THE PROBLEM OF PROBLEMS.

Every century since civilization began has left upon the pages of history some great thing, something worthy of a place in literature and memory. Empires and dynasties have arisen and fallen like bubbles on the water; bloody typhoons called wars have swept over the earth and exterminated races and changed the geography of the map of the world.

The mind of man was employed for thousands of years in trying to ascertain where he came from, for what purpose he was here, and where he was going. Stimulated and excited by invention and travel, only a few hundred years ago the faculties of gain and accumulation began their development. These have evolved on and on, until they have reached such ugly and vulgar eminence that it is no longer respectable to be extremely rich.

It is only of recent years that the intelligence of mankind has been directed towards finding out the really useful things in life. If we mistake not, this decade will stand out in history as one of the most important since the world began. Its greatest achievement will be that it has put into motion a tidal wave, a current of thought that will do more for the human race than all the mighty ages and musty centuries that have gone into the eternity of the past.

So long as men looked into the heavens and said, “The Lord will provide” they never took much interest in performing that very important task themselves. So long as they depended upon ignorant kings and rulers for guidance, the brain was a useless lump of clay; but in this decade the people are thinking.

The question mark is the sign of the times. The universal password is “Why?”

Why is disease so common, and perfect health so rare?

Why are the great majority of people afflicted?

Why has the word “ease” been changed to “disease”?

Why do we find so many specimens of perfect health and development in all other forms of life, and so few among mankind—the king?

All forms of animal life on this globe live about eight times their periods of maturity, except man. He matures at about 24. Measured therefore by all other forms of life, he should live nearly 200 years. But he drops into his grave at an average age of 40—while he is yet in his youth.

There is some good reason for this. We believe the answer must be found in a consideration of the material from which his body is constructed.

Of what is he made? With what kind of material does he keep himself fed and repaired? He must be what his food has made him.

Disease is merely the outward expression or penalty for violated laws.

Health is nature’s reward for conformity to her laws.

If man’s present condition is imperfect and unnatural, to what must it be attributed?

The question will soon be solved. It cannot long remain unanswered. It is too great, too important, too stupendous, too serious for the great throbbing heart of the world to go on and give it no thought. The best talent in America, that throne and home of genius whose light and literature have encircled the world, is beginning to turn toward this question. Men are really beginning to think something about the material out of which they construct themselves.

It is indeed amazing to think that all these years have come and gone, and that such a vast amount of human thought has been bestowed upon the arts and all the sciences except one, viz., what kind of material will bring mankind to the highest state of mental, moral and physical development.