part 2 two

Phenomena connected to Swamiji’s Lectures

After Sunday lectures he would either go home or go elsewhere with Sturdy. When they would arrive there on Sunday afternoon Swamiji would chat and joke with his acquaintances like one come to hear the discourse. There would be no sign of the fact that he was the speaker, no sort of nervousness could be seen.
At the hour appointed Swamiji would enter the large hall. [Same description as before]. His voice slowly grew louder, the tones coming in waves of authority and certainty. The expression by his hands, in speaking, was something peculiar to him as a speaker; it was particularly attractive and authoritative. Such is possible for a trained and skilful actor, but not usually for a non-professional.
Often it was seen that Swamiji, coming down from the platform, would go up to Goodwin and gently and anxiously ask him, “Goodwin, I must be crazy, what was wrong? What was I seeing, standing in space before me? I saw that and my heart palpitated. I can’t make head or tail of it. Won’t people say I am crazy? You know, they are British and I am an Indian – a subject race. Take good care of me, lest they call me crazy and pelt me on the street!” He sounded a bit pathetic, like a child. Goodwin would be surprised and say, “Swamiji, today you spoke beautifully.” Like a child, then, Swamiji would ask, “What did I say? What did I say?” Then Goodwin would report to him the lecture of that day. Amazed, Swamiji would say, “What does it mean?” When given the meaning he would say, “Write and keep all this. I like it very much.” It was as if he were a child or young man who had heard something inspiring. He often used to say, “I am really a crazy man. Is there anything in my head? Yet in front of me stands a living picture; its hand and mouth move and my heart throbs when I see it. I cannot make head or tail of it. I am the same old booby.”

Goodwin has a problem; Swamiji’s solution

    Out of necessity for a worker in America, Swamiji instructed Swami Saradananda to prepare to go there. The latter was at first unwilling because after many years he had got Swamiji’s company, of which he was very fond, and did not wish to give this up. In the end he had to go.
    Goodwin’s financial position was not good. He usually ate in the house and sometimes would go to a hotel. Swamiji gave him money. One morning Swamiji, the other Swami, Goodwin and Mohendra were sitting together. Sturdy and Miss Muller were not present and Goodwin, sensing his opportunity, spoke his mind. He said with sadness that those two did not care for him and did not like sharing the lodgings. So he felt he must eat outside, and having no money and no contacts in London, he could not make his living as a stenographer here. He had many friends in the United States. If he were to go there he would be able to meet his own expenses. Swamiji, hearing him, said sadly, “Why? Why not try here?”
    Goodwin replied, “Yes, of course I could, but if I have to work outside for three or four hours, how will your affairs go on? How will you manage?” Swamiji kept glum and silent. His thoughts could clearly be understood from his face. Goodwin, understanding Swamiji’s thought again expressed himself. “Why are you worried, Swamiji? By staying outside and working a couple of hours I will get my living. I’ll take a room and board nearby and come at lecture time, and whenever I get leisure, I’ll come and do your work. It is now uncomfortable for me to stay here. They also don’t like it, and I think I should go elsewhere.”
    Swamiji said nothing in particular, and Goodwin spent three or four days outside. One morning Swamiji said to him, “Sarat is going to America. Go with him. Sarat is a new man and doesn’t know American customs. If you stay with him you can give him much help. Goodwin replied, “But I have no means of subsistence over there!” Swamiji: “You won’t need to worry about that. I will arrange it.”
At first Goodwin was not willing to take any money; then he agreed when Swamiji repeatedly said, “Take Mohan with you. All three of you go together. Compared to London, in New York there are many subjects to study. There is constantly a powerful independence there, whereas in London men are not so courageous. There is another advantage: if you stay there in the house of a certain person, every care will be taken of you.” Here he mentioned the American preoccupation with electricity (“America is full of electricity.”) He had the desire that Indians should study that science in the United States and bring it to India. Then the country would be beautified (or benefited) – this was his firm conviction. For this he told Mohendra again and again to go to America and study electricity. But at that time Mohendra was enamored of the famous Reading Room of the British Museum and therefore unwilling to leave it.
    Goodwin put a lot of effort into trying to get Mohendra to accompany then. Sometimes by sweet words, sometimes by scolding or by joking and teasing he tried to get him to change his mind. Goodwin said, “If you stay here I will kill you! Come on! Come to a new country and see what fun. I will get you work with Edison. I’m acquainted with a friend of his.” Sometimes Swami Saradananda would say sadly, “What, Mohim! I am in London, hearing Swamiji’s lectures; now I have to leave and go off to America. And there I shall have to lecture! I know I have not studied anything. Anyway, I shall, as Swamiji has commanded, salute Thakur, stand up and try to say something. If it proves all right, I will stay awhile. If not, I run away to Calcutta. Why all this nuisance? I will beg my food some place. How did this lecturing business get into my head? I have never given a lecture in my life, but I will try to stand up and speak. And I am quite used to getting abuse. I will get it again. But when Naren has spoken, let me give it a try.”

Mohendra’s candid account of Swamiji’s moods

Something must be said here about the petulant moods of Swamiji. All day and half the night he would work tirelessly. Many times he said, “The way I work is enough to drive ten men crazy. That I am still sane even now is miracle!” So from time to time he displayed moods of irritation. No one else could keep pace with (or cope with) his tremendous power. Sometimes it would be Swami Saradananda, sometimes Mohendra, sometimes Goodwin, to whom he would give unbearably sharp scolding. As soon as he felt, for various reasons, bodily fatigue, he would use this sort of harsh language, but a little later, forgetting the whole thing, he would regain his normal mood. No one else would store up that biting utterance either, but then again no one argued with him. All those who had the good fortune to live with Swamiji were accustomed to that. This was a special feature of his nature. For, when the power of a mighty person meets a little obstruction an unusual pain comes over his body or mind and he feels angry, but this abates shortly.
It is no permanent anger. It is necessary for us to know about this matter, otherwise the portrait of Swami Vivekananda will be incomplete. This is clearly indicated in many places in his letters. [Here Mohendra cites the letters of St. Paul to show similar behavior.] Swamiji was not endowed with “dasya bhava”; he was the dictator type. He always said, “My people, my country.” He acted in the singular, not in the plural. With the anger-less calm, soft, polite attitude of a Bengali devotee, no one can understand Swami Vivekananda.

Off to America

    Soon the day for going to America drew near. Swami Saradananda packed his things ready in a portmanteau. Swamiji gave Goodwin some pounds. The ship was to sail from Liverpool to New York. All arrangements were made. Swamiji said, “It would be better for Mohendra to go to a new country. This is a very old, conservative place. Everything has a contracted air about it, old ways are current.” Then he went away and Goodwin tried to play Swami Vivekananda with Mohendra.
    One day Goodwin put on a shirt given him by Swamiji (reaching from neck to knees). Swami Saradananda wound a turban around Goodwin’s head. Looking in the mirror, seeing that he was looking much like an Indian, he was jubilant. Suddenly he remembered that as he was leaving London, he must meet and argue with the elderly housekeeper. He loved a joke; so he went to the basement and said to the housekeeper, “I am a jnani – a jnani, not a bhakta!” At first she did not recognize him. After ruffling her up a bit he returned. The next morning Swami Saradananda and Goodwin left Liverpool on their journey to the United States. Goodwin’s mind being much drawn to jnana, his sannyasi name was Jnanananda [No mention is made of any sannyasa ceremony.]
    What Swami Saradananda later told Mohendra about the American visit is being related here. “Well, brother, I had not studied much and had never given a lecture, but because of Naren’s insistence I had to do it. Then again he might get so angry he could even hit someone in front of everyone. How could I lecture in English? Even my speaking in it is halting. I decided if it didn’t come out right I would go right off home via Japan. But when he has said it, I would raise my voice like the secondary singer in a singing party. Then it came to me that Goodwin was having books printed. On the ship I took his proofs and sat as if for examination. I began calling earnestly on Thakur and made this prayer: whatever may happen to me, let Naren not lose face, for it is he who is sending me and if the work goes wrong, he will be blamed.
    “We reached New York duly. Goodwin took care of everything. We went to Mrs. Ole Bull’s house in Cambridge. She was of Swedish [Norwegian]- American descent. She gave me her book, Memoirs of Ole Bull.