Chapter 6

Chapter VI

    Goodwin loved every product of his own race. He would say to Mohendra, “Eat some strawberries! They are a very fine fruit, a really good thing.” Mohendra, like many Indians, saw nothing great about them.
    One day, from the fancy fruit market there came a pineapple. Swamiji was delighted and taught Goodwin how to peel it. After all had eaten it, Swamiji talked about pineapples. “This is a Chinese fruit; formerly it was not found in India. Probably the Portuguese or Dutch brought it in. It was called ‘ananas,’ which in time became ‘anaras.’ But now there are plenty in India; so fertile is Indian soil that many foreign fruits are grown in abundance.” At any rate, the Indians present were enraptured at tasting it. They say that even the cawing of crows of one’s own land is sweet to the ear.
    Once Swamiji talked to Deshai a lot about miracles. He said, “The Tantrik sadhus know how to distill wine. They were carrying wine in their kamandalus when a village, getting the smell of wine, raised objection. Then the sadhus began to show their miracles. Pouring a little wine into some water with repetition of a mantra and posturing their bodies in many ways they showed that the water had become like milk. Everyone was astonished. Sadhus can show many tricks like this. Because of this, true religion becomes a laughing-stock and people remain skeptical about sadhus. You see, one of Shivaji’s gurus was a sadhu. It was through his blessing that Shivaji prevailed. When Shivaji fought with the Moguls, his spies wearing gerrua like monks went about all over the land gathering information. There was no restriction on the movements of sadhus. From that time government is very suspicious of people wearing gerrua and they keep a sharp eye on them.”
    He told Deshai: “When I was wandering about in India I once took rest near a schoolroom (pathshala) where some children were studying grammar. I was sitting at a distance; they saw me but said nothing. They thought I would be taking some food and moving on; they would see me at mealtime. Hearing their mistakes in grammar, my ear took offense. Finally I could not stand it any longer and went over and corrected them. Now they began to spread my fame and press me to stay there. My mind was much depressed at that time, and I wanted to go to another place, so I had something to eat and moved off. Deshai, going around India I have seen what difficulty a sadhu has to get two grains of rice. The other day you asked me about hatha yoga. Do you understand what hunger there is there? I saw then what suffering there is in the land.”
And Swamiji’s face lost all smile, became grave and he was stock-still with tears in his eyes.

J.J. Goodwin on himself

    One day Goodwin began to talk to Swami Saradananda regarding his own life. They had lived in Frome [a bit south of Batheaston] and were tenants of the Marquis of Bath. Goodwin had a widowed mother and two unmarried sisters. They were supporting themselves somehow, and when he got money he would send it to his mother. He was then twenty-three or four years old and knew shorthand well. Work was not always available in one place, so he had wandered from England to Australia, then to America. Wherever he went he studied the local language. Goodwin said, “I have traveled wherever English is spoken. What else to do? A poor man from childhood, I have gone about trying to get my living. No patron do I have; I have been to many places, mixed with many people – they gave me work, gave the wages – but no one gave me his heart’s love. Then in America I met Swami Vivekananda. Then alone I could understand what love was. So, income or no income, I am trapped! I have been round the world, hob-knobbed with famous people, but never have I found such a noble being as Swamiji: one is drawn as if to one’s very own.
    “On the boat from Australia to Colombo I had no work. How to put in the time? So I began to dance. I would dance half the night. And I played cards and gambled. Lost a lot of money.” Hearing all this Swami Saradananda said to Mohendra (in Bengali), “Even though Goodwin is Swamiji’s devotee, his English nature is very prominent. Cricket and football are his craze, gambling his vice. All the English weaknesses are in him.” Goodwin, hearing the talk, said,” It seems you are berating me in your own tongue?” Swami Saradananda replied that he was just talking about his gambling.
    Swami Vivekananda had heard about all that before. Referring to this he told Goodwin, “You were misnamed Goodwin; it should have been ‘Badwin.’ Goodwin shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I am not Bad-win,” he said, but Good-win, Good-win, Goodwin.” Swamiji laughed a bit and said, “You are a gambler, you are always thinking of that.”

Swamiji’s portrait, and habits of dress

    Swamiji said that in America there was a married couple, both artists, short and plump of build; they used to go out on bicycles together, like friends, for painting pictures. They were very fond of him and sometimes would come and take him out on the contraption, sitting one on either side of him [tandem?] They would seat Swamiji between them somewhere and begin to paint his portrait. They would compete to see who could produce the greater likeness and thus eagerly would work at painting him. Swamiji would sit still until he was cramped, while they worked. He felt very happy to see their urge to be pre-eminent, and laughed while telling us about it.
    Goodwin was a real cut-up, making everyone laugh.
    Swamiji was always careful to learn the local customs and to follow them without defect, which is why he was so much respected. Once he told Mahendra not to come into the sitting room with his tie loosened and to change his collar twice a week. It seems to an Indian very extravagant.
He paid so much attention to manners and customs that it is no wonder that people in America had said that, though he went about like a wandering monk, he was the child of an aristocrat – never forgetting an observance. He always shaved beard and moustache, and if he had an evening invitation to meal, he would shave again, change his collar, and comb and part his hair, and see that his shoes were shined.
    One morning Swamiji said, “In America now there will be scarcely a town of twenty or thirty thousand who will not know of me. And many will be very familiar. There are many students, too, but these proved to be “chips” and blew away [chela means both]. Only Goodwin stayed; I saw that fellow was without food. But there is a difference between the English and the Americans: as I see it, the Americans are very sociable, whereas the English don’t like to mix and can bite like white ants.” Then he changed the subject.

His coming to the West

Another morning after breakfast Swamiji said to Swami Saradananda, “Do you see, I tried every opening: I tried teaching, I tried law; I found every door closed. Then I saw this path. This one opened for me and I found success in it. A man has to try all roads, to get one to open which will be fruitful.” “Well, he asked, “why do our countrymen die off so quickly? I ask about someone of whom I’ve had no news and I hear he has died. Will our race become extinct, I wonder? I saw in America eighty or ninety-year old people; sixty was “middle-aged.” They live long, so do the English, but the Indians die. It is because their diet is so wretched. It must be changed. For a couple of years in America I had no illness – only a few colds. I slept like a log but the body did not suffer. The climate of that land is very good. And how they live! They don’t want to die, it seems. Such enthusiasm! Such perseverance.
They move about with liveliness, while Indians do it passively, as if sitting down. All those Vedantic utterances I gave out to the people while I wandered through India, if they would have them; but their taking was a shambles – in fact, they began to berate me. I decided I will go to a free country and speak out these things. Without freedom no one will be able to receive it. I saw that there would be a meeting in Chicago. So I ran with all my might to be present in Chicago. It was those people who first appreciated the Vedantic ideas. India did nothing: she did not take it.” That day he voiced many such complaints.

Vedanta as a universal religion

    On Sunday he had spoken at the R.I.P.W. Monday, after breakfast, Swamiji raised Vedanta topics with Sturdy. His mind was very expansive and he said, “This Vedanta philosophy was given out by the rishis of olden times. Then their hearts were great, their minds very cultured, so they spread it broadcast. Later, when the race fell, they cooped it up in a little corner. It fell into the hands of unworthy persons and became neglected. But now this Vedanta must be spread far and wide.
Make it a universal property. The various religions go on talking about their respective devotions, personal ideals and customs and rituals, but no one talks about his philosophy. Vedanta concerns itself with philosophy, that which is not the property of any particular religion, so Vedanta will be the universal religion.” So saying he began to walk, and pulling on his pipe, waxed enthusiastic, repeating: “Make it a universal property; let it not fall into the hands of narrow-minded persons.”
    Goodwin and Miss Muller did not get along very well. In other words, she did not care much for him. There was no obvious reason; perhaps Swamiji was especially fond of Goodwin and used him for all his work. One day Goodwin said to him, “It doesn’t seem to be so convenient, my staying here. It may be better if I live elsewhere and come in to work.” On hearing him Swamiji understood the whole matter, and, feeling very sad, said, “How will that work? My need is a twenty-four hour one; how will I manage if you aren’t here?”
    Goodwin replied, “What else to do, when I can’t get on with these people? But I have to eat! Going elsewhere I can manage by myself somehow. And I will come and take down the lecture notes.” Swamiji kept quiet. He said nothing but continued to look toward Goodwin from time to time. [Nowhere does Mohendra say that Goodwin actually left the house.]
    After Swamiji went out, Goodwin expressed to Mohendra some resentment against Miss Muller. “She is not British. She is a Chilean woman. Her father was a German who migrated to Chile by ship and made a fortune. Later, selling his factory (or business) for cash he came to England to live and left his money to his children.”
     Swami Saradananda so much disliked the regimentation of British life and having to change his habits, that he would sometimes say,
“I came here to Naren, and I am about to die. I feel like running straight away.”

An international incident

The news appeared one morning in the paper that a young Chinese had come to London, and the Chinese ambassador had decoyed him into his own residence and forcing him to board ship and go back to China. Reading the news, Swamiji said to Goodwin, “What is this, Goodwin, isn’t this a free country? All are the same in freedom. Now where is your right of hospitality? This poor Chinese lad in the city of London is being maltreated. Where is your national ideal of liberty?” Goodwin jumped up, shook his fist, stamped his foot and became quite heated. He said, “Such behavior in England! Anyone setting foot on the soil of England becomes free from that moment. How wrong of the Chinese Ambassador! Doesn’t he know this is England? Many nihilists and anarchists and foes of the government of Russia are living in this country in freedom. Their meetings and newspapers etc. are being carried on: no one says anything. And this Chinese ambassador has taken the Chinese boy!” Sturdy said, “Even if there has to be a war with China over this, we are ready. I will become a soldier myself. It is a disgrace to England.”
Then Lord Salisbury, M.P. had soldiers surround the Embassy and man all the docks. He wrote to the Ambassador to deliver the young man into his keeping. But Goodwin was hot all day and did no work, and bought newspapers. Swamiji’s face was very melancholy; he seemed to be brooding. Once in a while he would say something. “Powerful people treat poor people in this way.” Even when he did not speak, one knew his every thought by his face. Then Goodwin delightedly brought the news that the boy had been freed. [Mohendra says that he, Mohendra, later made acquaintance with this boy in the British Museum Library. The young man was the future Sun-yat Sen].

Scandal of Mrs. Dyer

    One day the newspaper informed that a Mrs. Dyer of Reading would be hanged. [She was an elderly woman who for some years had taken under her “care” the illegitimate babies of “high society,” along with the money for their keep – then disposed of them in the Thames River. Biggest scandal of the day.] Swamiji read it and said to Sturdy, “The Thames water has become babies soup!” Then, “I see that the society is rotten. This baby-murder goes on in house after house. A race begins to rot from the inside first: then comes an enemy and conquers it. If this race goes on in this way, its fall is assured, I see. From social evil every evil eventuates.” Sturdy said, “Swamiji, English society is going rotten inside; as outward enjoyment increases, in such measure does inner corruption increase too. In this country the standard of living is high, and human nature will be what it is; so there is much social evil.”
Swamiji remained in a mood of disgust that day.
    At this time Max Muller’s essay entitled “A Real Mahatma” appeared in the well-known journal Nineteenth Century. He had brought out a life of Sri Ramakrishna, as mentioned before.
    The former Presidency College Principal, Mr. Tawney, had written and published an article in a paper of the time about Sri Ramakrishna. Because of Swami Vivekananda’s London speeches and his mixing with the “big people,” there began to be some discussion of Ramakrishna in academic circles. At Kankhal in 1917 the famous Aswini Kumar Datta told Mohendra that he and Prof. Tawney wrote that the latter tries to read “M.”s Kathamrita in Bengali, but cannot make it out in many places because of the village dialect. Yet he reads it daily just like the Bible. Aswini told this with great joy.
    One afternoon Swamiji was sitting in the parlor with Sturdy and others. Swamiji said, “See how advanced the Germans are in science.”
(Then he described their use of a fielding system for sewage water. Coming out on the other side of a field, the water was quite pure and even fit to drink.)