repared for that, though I desired to obtain a general practice for a
while to put into effect and improve my theoretical knowledge. In a
misty way I soon realized that neither my own efforts nor those of my
colleagues were crowned with the success that should attend a profession
founded upon strictly scientific principles, as modern surgery is. The
chief cause of disturbance with me was that so many operations were
performed which subsequent developments showed might have been avoided,
but which at the time seemed imperative. I redoubled my studies of
_materia medica_, hoping to find a way by which this difficulty might be
obviated or overcome, and while my constant researches helped, I still
found much difficulty in arriving at accurate conclusions before
attempting an operation. I found nothing that satisfied me. I was also
greatly bothered and baffled by the large number of cases which the
surgeon encounters, controlled or dependent upon nervous conditions and
the futility of the drugs ordinarily given.

"While in this mood a friend of mine called at my office one Wednesday
evening by appointment. He was the general manager of a large utility
company that has to do with the people of every section of the
civilized world, and a man of rare judgment, knowledge of the world, and
poise. We were on most intimate terms, and I had already told him
something of these perplexities. This evening, I had supposed that he
was coming to see me professionally, and I had made other engagements.
As soon as he stepped into my private office, he said: 'Doctor, cancel
every engagement you have for this evening. I need you very badly in
affairs of my own. You are to ask no questions, but do as I request and
send me your bill to-morrow.'

"Of course I could not refuse him, so I arranged to go with him, and
then asked whether I should require surgical instruments or only a
medicine case. He replied that I would need neither, and I could gain
nothing from his manner, for he was very grave. At his suggestion we
walked, going up Fifth Avenue to the Park, and then across the Park to
the corner of 96th Street and Central Park West, where there stands a
great church. The rolling notes of the organ filled the quiet with an
impressiveness I had never felt before, and the congregation was singing
an old hymn with an earnestness and depth of feeling quite different
from most congregational singing. We entered and were shown to seats in
the balcony