Chapter 4

Chapter IV

There used to come to the morning lecture an elderly lady from distant Crystal Palace or Sydenham, who was past sixty, stout and white-haired. She would mount the stairs slowly and seat herself with difficulty. Although summer had begun, she was wrapped up as if it were winter and would perspire. Mohendra handed her a fan and they got into conversation. “I love this Swami’s talks,” she said, “I seem to be seeing someone out of the Bible as it were. Though I am only an old woman and cannot understand much of the philosophy, Swami speaks in such a way, with his voice and gestures and all, that I am charmed. It is as if I were seeing clearly before my very eyes many incidents of the Bible.” Mohendra asked her where she came from and she told him. “Where will I get the carriage-hire to come so far? So I ride part way and walk part way, but I don’t miss a lecture.”

Miss McLeod and Other Friends

    On one occasion Miss McLeod came in and impressed Mohendra mightily with her devotion to and faith in, Swamiji. (He describes the gathering): Swamiji entered with Swami Saradananda and Goodwin, the latter taking up his post at the table. As the room was crowded, Swami Saradananda and Mohendra climbed the stairs to the landing and sat there in chairs. In a corner of the hall on a sofa sat Sturdy, who, for all these lectures, served as chairman. Gradually even the landing filled, so Swami Saradananda, Fox and Mohendra moved up to the first step of the third-floor stairs. What little they could hear was good. Now there came the nurse who used to attend; she was in uniform. About thirty or so years old and thin of build, she would sit just by the terrace door and with concentrated mind take down everything in shorthand. She did not look around nor talk with anyone and went away quickly. She came ever (class) morning but made acquaintance with none. Many of those attending would speak a bit with Swamiji before leaving. Often someone or other invited him to lunch. More ladies would attend than men, who were seen more in the evening. He was not called Swamiji by Goodwin or others.
    At night there were many gentlemen. One big “Canon” of London used to attend with this wife [Haweis]. He was particularly fond of Swamiji and showed faith and devotion. After evening lecture Swamiji would take either Sturdy or Goodwin for a walk on the street; he would feel tired after talking so long and when he returned from walking was able to get sleep.
    When Miss McLeod was in town she would come about 1 p.m. Every day from Wm. Whitely’s shop many fruits, choice, rare, expensive, would come at 11 a.m. Who paid the bill or ordered them no one knew; many guessed but no one asked, through respect.
    One day Sturdy was very happy, for the lecture attendance had been very good, and he was trying for a Sunday lecture. He told the story of a schoolmate caned by a master. “I get awfully angry when I see a man beating a boy,” he remarked. Goodwin: “Yes, Mr. Sturdy, and I too, when I see a man beating a donkey.”
    “That is because it rouses your fellow-feeling,” said Swamiji, and all had a good laugh.
    Swami Vivekananda’s first book printed in London was done by Kegan Paul.

A remarkable dream

    A lady of about forty-two or three named Johnson, who was English but born in Moscow, came around. With much devotion and animation she told her dream: A luminous man came to her and said, “Come along.” Without a doubt or objection she began to follow him. Going a long way across a field they came to sea shore. It was a very dark night, yet a wooden ship was seen to be at hand. A voice came out of the darkness, “Board this ship.” The ship spread its sail, caught the wind and moved swiftly. All around, a boundless sea. All black sky, not even stars to be seen. Gradually fear came over her; darkness all around, who this pilot was, or her fellow-passengers – nothing could she understand. Then she saw a rope stretched between the mast and the prow, and on it a lantern hanging. Small as this light was, it gave her hope. Then she saw, standing by the light, someone who was the Captain or other officer of the ship. She could see him clearly. At the sight of his face, clear as a photo, her heart rose. Looking at her and seeing her fear, he said, “There is no fear; even in the dark the ship will go to its destination; you need not be afraid.” Suddenly she woke up. Miss Johnson: “I couldn’t say of what country was the man whom I saw bit it affected me so much and looking in many places in Russia I could never find that face. I have been living for several years in London and decided my dream was my delusion. Several weeks ago I heard that a preacher of Hinduism had come and was giving lectures. As soon as I saw Swami Vivekananda and heard him speak, I knew it was the same person.” Then she said that she hadn’t gone up to speak to him, as she was a woman and would not know what to say. Mohendra got the impression of a sincere and truthful woman.
    One devotee was the wife of a general [Lady Ferguson?]
    One night while walking Swamiji told Sturdy how he met Goodwin. “When I first gave lectures in America, who wrote down anything or kept track of what was said? Finally everybody insisted that such fine lectures were being lost, and these must be recorded. So an advertisement was placed in the newspaper for a shorthand stenographer. Many job-seekers applied and I saw all were Americans. But one English lad had gone to America and, attending the Exhibition, had taken down my Chicago speech and given it to the newspapers. Now he was foot-loose.
He came, and was hired. At first he took wages and lived and ate elsewhere; after a few weeks he became very devoted to me and said, ‘I don’t want to take any other work; I wish to do everything for you.’ From that time he has stayed with me. He does a tremendous amount of work for me; without him I would be in difficulty.” Sturdy became very serious and Swamiji changed the subject.
    After breakfast one day there was the translating of a portion of the Narada Sutra. When Sturdy had left, Swami Vivekananda came out of his room wearing his lecture clothes (long red shirt and silk waistband). Now lecture arrangements had been made for Sunday also; many were attending the class-lectures etc. so Swamiji was very happy. It was about an hour before morning class; the busy traffic on the street could be seen through the large dining-room windows. Swamiji, looking out, began a comic song: “Umbrella in hand, hat on the head, so many pretty girls are going by with basketsful of flour smeared on their faces (powder).” He put it to such a droll and mysterious tune, that Mohendra had to laugh uncontrollably. Swamiji said to Swami Saradananda, “See the ladies have put powder on their faces as if they had scraped it up with a hoe.” Swamiji saw that only a few minutes remained till lecture time. Still he was laughing and joking with the other swami, poking ribs and playing. They were like two kids as they went up the stairs. Gradually, as Swamiji went up he became a totally different person, that look of a lion-conqueror, master ascetic etc. coming over him. Swami Saradananda seeing him, fell behind, silent and awed.

England contrasted with America

One day Swamiji was sitting in his long easy-chair and smoking his pipe, when his glance fell on Fox’s shoes, which were brown boots with pointed toes. Swamiji said, “In America those who wear this kind of shoe get their toes curled, the toes pressed. At first it seems uncomfortable.” Then, “America seems to be full of electricity. What exertion and enthusiasm there is everywhere! I used to see poor Italians or Russians entering the country with pack on the back, halting steps, afraid of anyone, wearing soiled clothes; after two or three months I saw that they were wearing respectable clothes, walking erect, going into restaurants and eating with everyone. No more idea of fear! The country is free, you see; so into them also that freedom has entered. And if a man makes a new invention, right away he gets a patent on it and makes a fortune.” And he went on in that vein. “What a desire for work! Nobody depends on anyone else. Son doesn’t wish to remain dependent on father, nor father on son. Seeing America I was able to understand what Freedom is. I saw that great or small, a man works with the idea that one day he may become a millionaire, or even President.
Work, work, self-manifestation, tearing up obstacles – demonstrate freedom – this is in the very air of America.”

When one evening he told the story of Narada on his way to heaven meeting the two aspirants, the ladies were in raptures. Gathering around Swamiji they said, “I never heard such a beautiful story; it has brought peace to my heart.” The discourse was very good that night. The average person did not understand the discussion of Raja Yoga: dhyana, dharana and all that. They listened because they had to. But everyone enjoyed the talk on Bhakti of that evening. Swamiji, too, was not in a very serious mood that day. Coming down from the lecture room to the dining room, all the “family” being there, Swami Saradananda emptied a full glass of water at one gulp. “Look at that!” said Swamiji to Sturdy and Miss Muller, “I lectured and he got thirsty.” Looking at the other Swami he said, “Did you speak, that you have become so thirsty?” Swami Saradananda said smiling, “Well, your lecture was such a threat (dhamak), who wouldn’t get thirsty? It was not one glass, but three glasses.” All laughed. Even Miss Muller was very happy with the talk, and Sturdy praised it.