Donahue with an appeal which seemed to overpower reason, and to satisfy something as far beyond reason as music is beyond words. Its "King of kings and Lord of lords" throbbed and thrilled as a truth of eternity. The architecture, the preaching, the procession, the singing, the ritualistic flavor of the whole ceremony, had done more than hint to Donahue that there was something beyond rationalism demanded for the satisfaction of human cravings. Catholicism, which he had rejected or rather neglected, had not, he thought, supplied it. Protestantism, as he knew it, with its exaltation of the sombre-gowned preacher and prayer leader, had failed still more completely. And now here were Protestants not only conscious of what was lacking in their belief, but actually endeavoring to supply it—and yet not succeeding. As Donahue left the Church of the Advent that night he was, consciously or otherwise, a changed man spiritually and intellectually. He had been seeking something which he had not found, and here he had seen his need witnessed to where he had not dreamed of finding witnesses. It was the tangible, visible, audible expression of something which did not conflict with reason, but rather completed and explained it-the expression of the relation of man as a race to God as its First Cause and Ultimate End. This it was which was pictured in the scene which he had just witnessed the natural flowering of human aspiration in sure touch with something beyond the human and the visible, but which nevertheless is felt to be part of the picture which God Himself is painting. Donahue had been brought to recognize, to listen to that craving within his soul which cold rationalism, he had to admit, could never satisfy; that craving for the sure touch of his soul with the Reality, truer than sense, in a worship not contrary, but complementary to reason, leading it and perfecting it. The ceremony which he had just witnessed had confirmed, from unexpected sources, the testimony of his conscience to this fundamental need of every man. And yet while that ceremony stimulated, it had witnessed also to its own insufficiency. And as Donahue reflected, his thoughts went back to the faith of his earlier days. Surely that Catholic faith must be the pure font of the wisdom of God when these who were Protestants, whose leaders had once officially rejected it, were now beginning to imitate its ritual; to copy that which they had so long spurned and condemned. But ritual, if sincere, is but the expression of a true inner life. Was there not, therefore, in Catholicism that which no imitation could secure or express? Borrowing the coat might make the borrower's body beautiful, but the wearing of it would not change his soul. This ritual was splendid, but it was the human part of it that was splendid. Here was a worship which appealingly expressed man's relation to God-from the earthly side-man's reaching toward God. But the full relation must necessarily be twofold: that of man toward God, and of God toward man. The human rite furnished the human or earthly side of the liturgical picture. But the lack which Donahue felt in that picture was the lack of a sure completion of it from the supernatural side-from eternity, from God. Man worshipped before an altar. But should he worship merely before an altar? If there was nothing on that altar which was not in any other place on earth, why worship in church, liturgically or corporately, at all? Why not admit that to man has been given no central place on earth in which to worship something which is there in a particular manner? Why not admit at once that conduct is the only real worship? But Donahue had found by experience that it is not; or rather that the full extent of conduct must be extended to deliberate and particular external worship if man's life and man's need is to be filled. The ceremony which Donahue had witnessed did express this craving, but it did not answer it. What was needed for its foundation and completion was the donation by God from above of a Real Presence which should be a centre for the needed human worship below. Man of his very nature, thought, worked and communicated by means of symbols. His very nature also required worship, symbolical and liturgical worship. To express the corporate relation of man as a whole to God, man must gather for formal corporate worship in a central place. But being a creature with body and senses, requiring objects which appeal to sense, lest he forget, his worship requires, in that central place, a Real Presence, which is a symbol of God and yet more than a symbol-God really, sacramentally present on the altar. Donahue had often rehearsed the truth, which agnostics wrest to their own destruction, that God is hidden from men on earth -veiled from them by the things of sense. How much clearer, how life-giving the real truth, that of the Real Presence of God veiled in the Blessed Sacrament? It was the true answer, not only to doubts and questionings, but to man's best aspirations. Sacramentalism was the principle of nature as well as of religion; man's very thought and action was sacramental. Therefore his worship must be sacramental. And the Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament was the earthly expression of God's hidden relation to man, as man's liturgical rites before that Presence were the earthly expression of man's relation to God. Unless on the Protestant altar there was this Real Presence, it was a mockery and a superstition to gather before that altar and address before it a liturgical worship which requires a complement on the altar. Every Protestant creed denies the Real Presence. The Catholic Church alone has had this Presence through all her history-and Donahue had discovered the absolute need of it for his own soul, his own life. In discovering and owning to that need he had come home. He had found himself a Catholic once more. He had traveled from Christmas to Christ. GIVE US THIS DAY. BY CHARLES MCGILL. GREAT Love Divine that lowly manger chose- Whose guiding star of wisdom brighter grows While legioned worlds have swept to deepening night, Light us in truth to Thine ennobling way, Guide us in peace by paths that Thou hast trod- To heights of freedom and to heights of God. DR. JOHN B. MURPHY. T BY JAMES J. WALSH, M.D., PH.D. HE life and work of Dr. John B. Murphy, who died in Chicago on August 11th of the present year, illustrated the splendid possibilities open to the intelligent American of our day. He is another striking example of the country boy who, coming to a great city, carved out for himself a career that gave him world-wide fame. Dr. Murphy was born on a farm near Appleton, Wisconsin, on December 21, 1857. He was graduated from the Appleton High School in 1876, and three years later from Rush Medical College in Chicago. He won the competition for Medical Interneship at Cook County Hospital, Chicago's great public hospital, and served there for a year and a half. He did not immediately afterwards take up practise for himself, but entered into a partnership with Dr. Edward W. Lee, which gave him an opportunity for much practical work under the supervision of a friendly experienced eye, and a definite salary that with his modest tastes and studious habits enabled him to save some money. After two years of such apprenticeship, at the age of twentyfive, Dr. Murphy, eager to fit himself still more thoroughly for his life's profession, went to Europe, where he spent the next two years. He studied in Vienna, Munich, Berlin and Heidelberg; he returned to America full of the spirit of original investigation and scientific research, and the pioneering tradition just then so alive in the German clinics. It is much easier to understand the development of Dr. Murphy's career if one is familiar with a book like Garrison's History of Medicine. Such a history tells us that the very year before Dr. Murphy went to Europe, a whole series of the most important advances in medicine had been made. Laveran had discovered the parasite of malarial fever, thus solving an ageold problem; Koch introduced the plate cultures of bacteria, thus giving a new impetus to modern bacteriology, and making possible the isolation of the bacteria of disease, and Medin discovered the epidemic nature of poliomyelitis-that serious affection which in recent years has proved such a source of death and suffering to our children, and which, so far, has baffled every effort for its prevention and cure. In the light of these supremely original developments in medical science, it is easy to comprehend how an enterprising young American student would have his enthusiasm aroused for scientific work in the best sense of that term. If, still following Garrison, one reviews the list of progressive advances in surgery of those years, he will readily understand the incentives that lent aid to Dr. Murphy's successful career. In 1881, Dr. Billroth, at Vienna, resected the pylorus of the stomach, the gateway or passage out of the stomach into the intestines. This part of the gastrointestinal tract is frequently the seat of cancer, which previous to the discovering of the great Vienna surgeon had always proved fatal. In the same year Czerny, at Heidelberg, simplified a whole series of operations for women that did as much for the cure of cancer of the uterus as Billroth had done for cancer of the stomach. During that same twelve months Hahn performed the operation of nephropexy, the sewing up of a loose kidney to the abdominal muscles in the loin so as to prevent its injury by pressure when misplaced, and Woelfler introduced gastro-enterostomy, the making of a new passage way from the stomach to the intestines, an operation which has since come to play an extremely important rôle in surgery. It is not surprising, therefore, that Dr. Murphy, after two years of discipleship under such men, should return home convinced that the next great phase of development in surgery would relate to the gastro-intestinal tract. For centuries this portion of human anatomy had not been an operative field for surgeons. It is curious to note, however, that the surgeons of some five centuries ago performed a large number of operations on the intestines, especially when injured by wounds from the swords and pikes of old-time warfare. All this had been in some way forgotten, and the surgeons of the world were just about to remake a great new chapter in the history of surgery. Dr. Murphy's first important article, found in the list of his writings compiled in a short autobiographic note in 1894, was on Gun Shot Wounds of the Intestines. Up to that time it had been generally believed that penetrating wounds of the intestine were necessarily fatal. If unoperated upon, perforations of the gastrointestinal tract would almost inevitably be followed by leakage of the contents and consequent peritonitis. The one hope was that |