“When a Man Dies What Becomes of His Soul?”
A friend of mine meeting me in the streets of Chicago one day, without much ceremony propounded the above question; “Say, Brother Bell,” he began, “I would like to have you tell me what becomes of a man’s soul when he dies?” In reply I said, “Do you see that man walking on the other side of the street?” “Yes,” he said, “that is old Johnson.” I then called his attention to the peculiar movement of the old gentleman. “See what a peculiar gait he has.” He assented that our friend’s gait was peculiar. As we were contemplating him, he stopped to look in a store window. When he halted I turned to my questioner and asked, “Where has Mr. Johnson’s gait gone since he stopped walking?” He very candidly acknowledged that a man’s gait was not a thing, not an entity, but a mode of motion, and that when the body ceased to move, there was no gait. I asked him if thinking (the soul) was not a motion or activity of the brain, and that when it ceased to act, if there was any soul or thinking left. I have a very distinct remembrance that he talked a long time and said nothing.