THE NON-MATERIALISTIC CHARACTER 
OF THE MIND, 
The Doctorate Address delivered at the Commencement Exercises of 
Bennett Medical College, March 23d, 1886. 
BY / 
=• V 
Finley Ellingwood, M. D. THE NON-MATERIALISTIC CHARACTER OF THE MIND. 
The human mind is constantly endeavoring to solve the 
many problems of science. The one scientific problem 
upon which physicians, as students of science, concentrate 
their attention, is Man. 
Inasmuch as man, physically, is only one, of all animals, 
only one of all created things. At first thought our field 
might seem to be a narrow one. But if we consider man’s 
superiority, his intricate physical nature and his intellectu- 
ality; in this his dual nature, we find our subject a most 
complex one. One which we shall know only imperfectly 
after a lifetime of study. 
Our object in the study of man is not alone that we bene- 
fit science abstractly. It is not because of the pleasure the 
study affords. It is a worthier object. It is the relief of 
human suffering. It is the rescue of mankind from impend- 
ing death. And the superiority of our subject stimulates 
us to a persistent and continued effort to render perfect as 
far as possible our knowdedge of this subject. 
Man, then, is the study of the physician. The reference 
to man’s dual nature involves two propositions. The first, 
the possession of a physical nature, the animal, and asso- 
ciated with this most intimately, in the performance of the 
vital functions, is that of the second proposition; the 
possession of a mind a super-physical, super natural ele- 
ment. 
The study of the subject matter of the first proposition, 
is in the study of anatomy and physiology. 
Anatomy considers the human body as a machine, in itself 
dead, inert, motionless, composed of elements subject to 
the chemical law of change. It considers each organ, its 
form composition and properties, in the mechanical rela- 
tion it sustains to every other organ. 
PROP. FINLEY ELLINGWOOD, M. D. 4 
On the other hand, physiology studies the machine as 
influenced by the motor principle life, living, acting, 
moving; performing its various functions in obedience to 
physical law perfectly, preserving in itself symmetry of 
action, harmony, unity. Here we study the phenomena of 
birth, of growth and development to maturity; then follows 
decline and death. 
But, in the progress of this study, we are constantly 
brought into contact with the principle involved in our 
second proposition, the animating principle of the machine, 
a mysterious incomprehensible, intangible something, 
existing apparently outside of physical law, perfect in its 
operations, and so far as our observation can detect, 
possessed of a peculiar independence of operation, the 
mind of man. 
Yes, dwelling in this body is the mind, an immaterial, 
supernatural element, a self-conscious principle. This 
we must study with its concomitants of will, under- 
standing, reason, conscience. These are as surely a part of 
the human being as the bone or muscle or brain. And to 
the truly educated physician, a knowledge of the intellec- 
tual in man is as essential as a knowledge of the physical 
organism. And it is to this component of man’s nature 
that I more especially desire to direct your thought. 
It is an incorrect opinion often expressed by the laity, 
that the effect of the study of the physical man upon the 
mind of the medical student tends to skepticism; that this 
study so reveals the perfection of the workings of the human 
system as to impress the student that the machine acts 
independently of outside law, that it produces and perpetu- 
ates its kind, performs with perfectness all the essential 
functions of the body alone, in itself. 
There is a tendency in the human mind to one of two 
extremes of belief, either to the extreme of credulity, or 
the extreme of skepticism. 
The tendency of scientific investigation to the skeptical 
mind, seems to lead to the belief that there is nothing in 
the universe but matter, matter and its laws, that there is 
no spiritual or immaterial substance. And that wonderful 5 
something we call mind, is but a mode of force, and motion, 
in matter, and does not exist independently of the body. 
Carlysle said it was the belief of Cabanis that the brain 
secreted mind, as the liver does bile. If so, then when 
the secreting organ is dead, the product is dead also. 
There is great diversity of belief concerning the relation 
of the mind to the body, and also concerning the cause of 
all manifestation. 
In the perfect study of the human body, and in fact of 
all matter, whether it be organic or inorganic, the micros- 
cope has revealed much indeed which has cleared away the 
mists of doubt and uncertainty which have enveloped 
science. It has revealed the minute structure of all tissues, 
the most minute liber, and the multitude of cells of which 
every fibre is composed. It goes further and shows the perfect 
structure of the cell, its wall, its contents, the little neuclus 
and neucleolus. It finds these little cells in all matter, veiy 
similar in all. 
It also reveals within each cell, and enveloping the 
neucleus of the cell, a minute mass of matter, without appar- 
ent structure, colorless, transparent, jelly-like. In all 
living tissues the same, whether found in frog, or bird, or 
beast, or man, or bone, or brain, in all plant life the same. 
Beyond this minute mass of matter the microscope has 
no power, it makes no revelation. This, then, is said to be 
the fundamental mass of germinal matter. Scientists have 
called these little masses protoplasm, more recentl}1' 
bioplasm, and most wonderful powers they attribute to 
them. They find that each mass seems to be possessed of 
active life; it grows and changes its form; it throws out 
processes and projections in all directions. Then each of 
them breaks in two, and each half possesses all the proper- 
ties of the original mass, and soon appears like the original, 
and in turn breaks up and subdivides, and creates others 
continually. 
These little primative masses (bioplasm) rapidly absorb all 
nutrient matter of whatever character it be, and by the 
addition of the nutrient matter, grow and develop the cell. 
Then cell is added to cell, and cell to cell, until every fibre 6 
and muscle and nerve is formed; until in the plant every 
fibre and twig and leaf is formed. But instantaneously, at 
the moment of absorption of the nutrient matter, by a pro- 
cess which no human science can imitate or explain, each 
little bioplast seems to change this inert, not living matter 
into living tissue, transfers to this material of growth that 
wonderful principle of life. 
Here the power of the microscope, or of the most acute 
human observation ends. How it does it, or why it does 
it, or by what process it does it, we cannot possibly know. 
This change takes place within the bioplasm; some scien- 
tists claim that is done by the bioplasm, that it is the work 
of the bioplasm. Others, however, believe it to be done in 
the bioplasm by an outside power acting through this little 
mass of germinal matter. 
Here, then, in this apparent production of life is an 
evident effect. Can such an effect occur without a cause? 
The theory of evolution claims that one of these little 
masses was orginally, ages ago, the only substance contain- 
ing life. That it subdivided and produced others; that these 
by a process of development, gradually created a higher 
grade of life, and this developing gradually produced 
higher life, until in time the lower grades of animal life 
were produced. Then, gradually, in succeeding ages, 
measuring time by the millions of years, still higher and 
higher forms were developed until the ape was reached. 
And by slow and steady process, from this superior creation, 
man was ultimately evolved. 
Haeckle, that most interesting of German writers, eluci- 
dates in an attractive manner, with apparently forcible 
arguments, this theory of evolution. And from his first 
pages the reader is captivated with the beautiful structure 
which gradually unfolds to the intellectual vision. He is 
almost convinced from the first that that, which is so per- 
fect in its every part, must be perfect in its completeness. 
The author begins with things in nature as we now find 
them completed, perfect in structure and in obedience to 
law. He considers all matter as matter, all law as an evolution 
of force. He claims that organization occurred because of 7 
necessity. That life is the remit of organization. He con- 
considers the organization and structure of all things 
specifically, relatively and comparatively. He considers 
them in their entirety, then in their parts, then in the 
minute structure of every part until he gets back to that 
primitive mass of germinal matter, the bioplasm. Here he 
has arrived at, to him, the origin of things. 
His structure now being completed, perfect, he must 
reveal to us the foundation on which this perfect structure, 
this theory of evolution, rests. He informs us that the 
foundation is composed of matter, and that it is in every 
way a perfect foundation; as perfect, as complete, as beau- 
tiful as the structure which it supports. 
If we witness, in the preparation for a building, a mass- 
ive well constructed foundation, dug deep and laid upon 
the rock, we instinctively conceive a proportionately mass- 
ive and perfect structure to be erected thereupon. 
If we behold the turrets ai:d spires of a beautiful and 
costly structure, we immediately believe the structure 
exists; we have a tangible evidence of it; we know it, and 
to exist we know that it must rest upon a correspondingly 
massive, firm, and secure foundation. It is absolutely in- 
consistent with any known physical or mechanical law that 
it should be otherwise. 
What foundation then must this scientist give us for 
this apparently perfect structure ? 
“ In the bioplasm,” he says, “ there is life. It has pro- 
duced life; man cannot produce it, 1 his is the first cause. 
Life is the result of the organization of the bioplasm. The 
first bioplast produced another bioplast, and these, others; 
these developed each a cell, then cell was added to cell, 
and cell to cell, until tissue, and fibre, and stem, and leaf, 
and twig, and branch, was formed in the plant. Until 
fibrilla, and fibre, and muscle, and nerve, and bone, and 
brain were formed in the animal.” 
Yes, but what has formed the first bioplast? we ask. 
Di<! it not need a creator? Oh. no, he replies; there is no 
creator there was no need for a creator. There is one God 
that is necessity. Demand is the primal cause for this 8 
wonderful structure. “ Somewhere, somehow in the tur- 
moil of a cooling planet, there chanced to be formed, 
there must have been formed spontaneously by a fortuitous 
accidental concourse of atoms, a bioplast! !” 
Here is his foundation for this wonderful 
How widely inconsistent with the apparent character of 
the structure. A castle of grandeur on a foundation of sand. 
It must be laid down, my friends, as a first principle 
founded upon the constitution of our minds, and needing 
no verification, that design, naturally, necessarily, suggests 
a cause. The conception of the one is always connected 
with the other. Here is an apparent design with no cause 
except chance, or spontaneous generation. If this is act- 
ually the foundation, the structure cannot exist—it is a 
castle in the air—we are deceived. 
On the other hand, if the structure exists, if there is 
truth in the theory of evolution—and I am not here to say 
there is none—it must have an exact, perfect, and secure 
foundation, one .based on a first cause, immutable, omni- 
potent, eternal. 
“Precisely here, ” Joseph Cook says, is the rock on which 
materialism and the radical form of the evolution theory 
wreck themselves. 
The philosophers of ancient Greece long debated the 
subject of the materialistic character of the mind, or soul. 
But even in those days of doubt and scientific mistiness, 
by far the larger number of their poets and philosophers, 
held to the faith of Socrates, who said to his friends, be- 
fore he drank the hemlock, “after my death you may bury 
me if you can catch me,” do not call this poor body Soc- 
rates; I shall leave you and go to the joys of the blessed; 
be of good cheer! Say you are burying the body of Soc- 
rates, only. 
An incontrovertible, self-evident truth, which neither 
materialist nor theist will deny, is the existence in every 
man of a self-conscious principle. A personal knowledge, 
by each mind of the existence of that mind. This knowl- 
edge makes our existence to us real, actual, and if exer- 
cised will perpetuate in our minds to future days, or even 9 
years, very much of our actual enjoyments or sorrows, 
which will of themselves pass rapidly by. 
Sir Benjamin Broadie said: “The existence of my own 
mind is the only thing of which I have any actual and posi- 
tive knowledge.” Flourens said: “Man is the only one of all 
created beings, to whom is given the power of perceiving 
that he perceives, of thinking that he thinks, of knowing 
that he knows.” 
The existence of this self-conscious principle can not 
possibly be explained on any mechanical or materialistic 
basis. Physical science does not solve the problem of its 
existence. We cannot conceive that this principle, or 
man’s mental or moral qualities; love, or hate! joy or sor- 
row! are only modifications of the substance of the brain! 
are the secretions of a physical secreting organ. 
The idea that the conceptions of Shakspeare or Milton, 
or the inspirations of Handel, or Mendlessohn, or Raphael, 
or Michael Angelo, or the eloquence of our own Webster 
or Clay or the benevolence of Cooper, are all secreted mat- 
ter; that they are the physical products of a physical 
organ is revolting to our intellectual sense. 
In the minds of the ancient philosophers there was much 
doubt as to the location of the soul of man, in the body. 
Aristotle located it in the heart. Empedocles taught that 
it circulated in the blood and was thus carried to every 
tissue in the body. Pythagoras and Galen located it in 
the brain. Soemmering, within the present century, as- 
signed it to the fluids of the encephalon, Servitus to the 
aqueduct of Sylvius. 
If consciousness be a cerebral product, a pure brain 
function, it should be assigned to a definite locality in the 
brain. This physiologists find it difficult to do, as those 
parts, to which it has been assigned, have been injured re- 
moved, or destroyed, and yet it has remained. 
The effect of injury to brain substance exhibits itself in 
a corresponding relation upon the muscular or nerve 
structure of the body, while the mind may not be percep- 
tibly affected. One-half of the entire cerebrum has been 
destroyed, resulting in paralysis of both motion and sen- 10 
sation in one-half of the body and yet mental operations 
have been performed. There is no invariable relation be- 
tween the extent of a brain lesion, and disturbed mental 
action, while between brain lesion and disordered physical 
action, there is an invariable relation. If the mind was a 
product of the brain, the relation would be as exact between 
a lesion and mental action, as it is between the lesion and 
physical action. 
If the brain produces the mind, the quantity of mind 
ought to be in direct proportion to the quantity of brain, a 
small bram would produce small mind, and a large brain 
large mind. Whereas careful investigation has shown that 
there is no positive relation between the ske of the brain 
and the extent of mental action. Cuviers brain weighed 
64 ounces. And there was a negro hung in Ohio a few 
years ago, a half-witted sensual ignorant man, whose brain 
weighed nearly 66 ounces. 
Again, consistent with an inflexible law in nature. The 
law of reproduction in kind, that the thing produced must 
possess the same general characteristics as the thing pro- 
ducing it. If the mind is a product of the brain, or if the brain 
secretes the mind, then the product must be a physical one 
like the secreting organ. And if physical, then it must be 
subject to the same physical laws and possessed of the pro- 
perties of matter. A thought, then, or an emotion, or an 
exercise of the judgment or of the will should possess ex- 
tension, imponderability, inertia, gravity, color, etc. An 
emotion of anger, or joy, a resolution or a desire might 
be square, or round, or heavy, or light, or red, or yellow. 
Again the influence of the mind over the body is an ar- 
gument in favor of its superiority. Physicians always ob- 
serve that a patient recovers more readily if he is confident 
of his recovery. And many cases are recorded of the 
patient sinking rapidly and dying after losing faith in re- 
covery. A hopeful, confident, mental condition on the part 
df a patient is absolutely essential. While very many of 
the so-called mind or faith cures, are no cures; many 
cases are known where recovery has rapidly taken place 
because of a firm resolve to get well. In cases of great 11 
pain the patient has often kept his feelings under perfect 
control by will-power. 
Cook says, “ Established science asserts the absolute 
inertness of brain structure in itself. If this be true, then 
its apparent activity must be due to some influence outside 
of itself. That agent invisible, intangible, is yet well 
known to man’s individual consciousness. That agent is 
the soul of man.” An eye may be destroyed, but that does 
not destroy the light, the external agent which acts upon 
it. An ear may be destroyed, but that does not affect the 
vibrations of air which are perceptible as hearing. Thus 
the brain may be destroyed, but that does not affect the 
soul, the motive power which acts through it. 
John Stewart Mill, while trying to reconcile the action 
of the mind with physical manifestation, and explain life 
as a result of physical force, says, “ The laws of nature do 
not account for their own origin.” Sir John Hershel, 
Carpenter, Dana, Aggassiz, Grove, Pearce, Beale, and many 
other modern philosophers declare unequivocally that force, 
wherever exhibited, is of spiritual origin. 
It is an acknowledged truth, notwithstanding much effort 
at disapproval, that the existence of a supreme being, is a 
fundamental conviction of the human mind, and philosophy 
in its sublimest aspirations maintains such an existence. 
In the face of all these evidences, there are many intelli- 
gent men, men who would scoff at the idea of any organ- 
ised substance in nature having originated by any accidental 
complexity of physical forces, who allow themselves to be 
confused and puzzled, and find themselves afloat on a sea 
of doubt, because men like Haeckle, and Huxley, and 
Spencer, and John Stewart Mill; men clothed with 
some scientific authority, have asserted, that inasmuch as 
there are no known physical or mechanical laws by which 
the origin of life can be accounted for in living tissues, it 
must be attributed to chance, to spontaneous generation. 
No, my friends, the physician, true student of science, 
must find himself believing that there is a first great cause 
for all things created, which is superior to the thing created. 
That the physical man is a machine, operated upon by 12 
something which partakes of the character of the super- 
natural; that something, possesses none of the properties of 
matter, the laws which influence matter have no effect upon 
it. That this the mind or soul of man operates through the 
brain, although no part of the brain. In the words of Sir 
Thomas Brown, uThere is surely a piece of divinity in 
man; something which existed before the elements, and 
owes no homage to the sun.” 
To that thoughtful man, who follows instinctively the 
natural tendency of human belief, and accepts the funda- 
mental conviction of his mind, that there is a God; the per- 
fection and faithfulness of all of nature’s processes, manifests 
the perfection and faithfulness of a great designer. And 
this perfection, instead of leading him to an opaque 
materialism which intercepts the face of the Creator, and 
leaves man in darkness as to a cause, becomes the mirror, 
which correctly reflects God’s unchangeable character. 
TO THE GRADUATING CLASS. 
In the name of the Faculty of Bennett College, I wel- 
come you, graduates in medicine, to the ranks of our honored 
profession. Jn the choice of a profession, had you consulted 
us, we could have advised you to select one less burdened with 
responsibility, less tilled with privation and disappointment, 
one in which there is less need of intensely active, exhaust- 
ing physical or mental labor. And yet, in any profession 
or calling, the useful man mustassume much responsibility, 
and active labor is always essential to success. 
But the profession you have chosen, in dealing as it does 
with human life, might well be said to be the most respon- 
sible of all professions. 
Perhaps you have entered the medical profession antici- 
pating pleasure, ease, rapid accumulation of wealth, appre- 
ciation, gratitude. I would not mar the pleasure of this 
hour with discouragement. And yet, if you realize your 
anticipation of pleasure, it will come through your success 
in your profession. Instead of ease you will find persistent 
and exhausting labor, instead of willing and sufficient 
remuneration, there will often be but little, and often no 13 
remuneration. You will often meet with ingratitude, often 
an entire lack of appreciation from those from whom you 
Anuld most expect it. But, notwithstanding this, success, 
when it comes to the physician in his profession, brings a 
reward fully the equivalent of the price paid. 
In the pursuit of your profession there will be many anx- 
ious hours, hours of deep concern for your patients—hours 
when all mercenary considerations are lost in the one 
intense desire for a life\ hours when this solicitude will be 
intensified to actual anguish. Is it possible to set a moneyed 
value on such services? Money alone can not be an equiva- 
lent; there must be gratitude; there must be evidences of 
appreciation. 
I remember once after many hours of constant watching 
and intense anxiety over a little life, just trembling in the 
balance, the pressure of that mother’s hand, the welling up 
of tears of sincere gratitude. It was all she had to give; it 
was all I wanted. 
The peculiar character of your profession will keep you 
constantly before the eye of the public. Your mission is 
the same to the rich or to the poor, to the mansion, to the 
cottage or to the hovel. Alone you will visit the sorrow- 
stricken and the desolate; your smiles, your words of 
sympathy and encouragement will often be the only rays of 
sunlight which breaks through the darkness of those lives. 
With them your words will be words of weight and influ- 
ence; how necessary that they should be thoughtful words; 
how excellent your mission if you can impart spiritual 
comfort as well. 
The relationship existing between the physician and his 
patient is a sacred one, one of the deepest confidence. This, 
above all things, I would have you realize and fully appre- 
ciate. In order that the physician may fully appreciate this, 
he must be possessed of the highest moral sense. He must be 
essentially a moral man, thoughtful, kind, consistent. I 
cannot conceive of a true physician being otherwise. In 
truth, my friends, a man with a debased moral sense, a dis- 
sipated immoral man, has no more right within the ranks 
of the medical profession than he has in the ministry. It 14 
is as shocking to our sense of right in the one case as in the 
other. 
Bear these facts in mind, gentlemen and lady graduates* 
in entering this, to you an untried field. And from the 
first take a position in society which will command the 
respect, and win the confidence of the public. In order to 
do this, there are many virtues I would advise you to cul- 
tivate. But, first, if such sentiments exist I would advise 
that you rid your minds of selfishness and self-esteem. 
Egotism will seriously retard your advancement. 
Cultivate a love for your profession. First by endeavor- 
ing to become successful in it; (an unsuccessful man is 
always a dissatisfied, discontented man). Secondly, by 
retaining in your mind an abiding sense of its dignity and 
accountability. Possessed of a love for your profession, 
you will readily surmount its difficulties and discourage- 
ments; you will with pleasure continue its laborious study 
and will rapidly advance to a position which will merit the 
confidence and esteem to which you aspire. 
Cultivate a spirit of sympathy for your patients, don’t fear 
its softening effect; you will be the better physician for it. 
A celebrated surgeon, an old man, once came before the 
clinical department of the New York Medical College, 
where there was a severe operation to be performed on a 
little child. He looked at the little one a moment and 
hesitated, then turning to the class he said, “Gentlemen, 
there are others here who can perform this operation as 
well as I. I cannot endure the sight of suffering as I once 
could; you must excuse me; I will retire. Did the posses- 
sion of that spirit make him less a surgeon? No less a 
surgeon, but more a man. 
Remember the poor. It is better as one has said to be 
judged mercenary and exacting by the rich, than that you 
should accumulate wealth by oppressing the poor. Be to 
them truly humane. True humanity consists in the dis- 
position of heart to relieve distress and suffering. 
In your conduct toward those of your own profession, 
treat all, of whatever creed, with deference. Be you, to 
them, the true gentleman always. 15 
The time you have spent with us has been devoted to 
work. Work which will tell in the success you will surely 
attain in your calling. Your extreme diligence, during the 
winter just past, has not escaped the eyes of your profes- 
sors. If the zeal you shall exhibit in your calling, may be pre- 
dicted by the energy and intense activity you have shown 
in preparing yourself for that work, we have no hesi- 
tancy in declaring our firm confidence in your ultimate 
success. Bear in mind, however, that you have but just 
begun your studies. We have taught you the alphabet, the 
fir vt principles. The rest you have yet to learn by hard 
study, by actual work, by practical experience. 
Continue your studies persistently. At the same time 
do much general reading; add breadth to your views and 
largeness to your ideas. A limited and careless education 
is plainly apparent to the cultivated mind. And although 
you may resolve to stand high in your profession, without 
intellectuality, you will occupy the position you are actually 
fitted to occupy, and no other. There is a law of equili- 
bration which adjusts these matters, notwithstanding your 
own resolutions. 
That which you learn, learn well; it is better that you 
know a few things well, than that you should be only care- 
lessly informed on many topics. Glean good from every 
source. Apply all you learn, and learn to apply. 
Seek the great fundamental truths of the science. 
Endeavor, by original investigation, to add something 
new to our rapidly accumulating store of knowledge. 
And yet our science is not to be completed by additions 
only; by accretion as it were, but as the marble under the 
chisel of the sculptor, gradually assumes a form every day 
more and more beautiful, every day more and more per- 
fect, so our science by careful study, by intelligent 
research, in clearing away error and doubt, in eliminating 
the false, in developing the true, is rapidly assuming a 
beauty and perfection, a precision, not before dreamed of. 
Be you sculptors, all, earnest, devoted, consecrated. 
And to you graduates who have had a long, hard 
struggle against circumstances, be encouraged; look for- 16 
ward with hope into a brighter future; forget the unpleas- 
ant recollections of the past. Keep your eye on the silver 
side of the cloud. Bravely and cheerfully retain your man- 
hood, with perfect confidence in your future success, and 
time will reveal to you that you have been made better and 
stronger by your adversity. Adversity is the fire test of a 
young man’s character, and if he passes through it re- 
solutely, it will develop the good material there is in him, 
and bring out the pure gold of his character. 
To you all, in conclusion, I would say, strive to excel; 
to excel you must work. Excellence is granted to no one 
but as a reward for labor. Cultivate those elements of 
character which adorn; virtue, knowledge, temperance, 
patience, godliness, brotherly-kindness, charity. Pos- 
sessed of these virtues, the Faculty of Bennett Medi- 
cal College will bid you God speed, confident that the 
record of your lives, written on that immortal page which 
time cannot efface, but which eternity will only brighten, 
will be the record of useful lives; lives filled with self- 
sacrifices; lives filled with noble deeds for the good of your 
fellow men.