VEDANTA IN AMERICA

After the meetings of the Parliament of Religions were concluded, Swami

Vivekananda, as already noted, under took a series of apostolic campaigns in
order to sow the seed of the Vedantic truths in the ready soil of America. Soon
he
discovered that the lecture bureau was exploiting him. Further, he did not like
its method of advertisement. He was treated as if he were the chief attraction o
f
a circus. The prospectus included his portrait, with the inscription, proclaimin
g
his cardinal virtues: 'An Orator by Divine Right; a Model Representative of his
Race; a Perfect master of the English Language; the Sensation of the World's
Fair Parliament.' It also described his physical bearing, his height, the colour
of
his skin, and his clothing. The Swami felt disgusted at being treated like a
patent medicine or an elephant in a show. So he severed his relationship with
the bureau and arranged his own lectures himself. He accepted invitation from
churches, clubs, and private gatherings, and travelled extensively through the
Eastern and Midwestern states of America, delivering twelve to fourteen or more
lectures a week.
People came in hundreds and in thousands. And what an assorted audience he
had to face! There came to his meetings professors from universities, ladies of
fine breeding, seekers of truth, and devotees of God with childlike faith. But
mixed with these were charlatans, curiosity-seekers, idlers, and vagabonds. It i
s
not true that he met everywhere with favourable conditions. Leon Landsberg,
one of the Swami's American disciples, thus described Vivekananda's
tribulations of those days:
The Americans are a receptive nation. That is why the country is a hotbed of all
kinds of religious and irreligious monstrosities. There is no theory so absurd,
no
doctrine so irrational, no claim so extravagant, no fraud so transparent, but ca
n
find their numerous believers and a ready market. To satisfy this craving, to
feed the credulity of the people, hundreds of societies and sects are born for t
he
salvation of the world, and to enable the prophets to pocket $25 to $100
initiation fees. Hobgoblins, spooks, mahatmas, and new prophets were rising
every day. In this bedlam of religious cranks, the Swami appeared to teach the
lofty religion of the Vedas, the profound philosophy of Vedanta, the sublime
wisdom of the ancient rishis. The most unfavourable environment for such a
task!
The Swami met with all kinds of obstacles. The opposition of fanatical Christian
missionaries was, of course, one of these. They promised him help if he only
would preach their brand of Christianity. When the Swami refused, they
circulated all sorts of filthy stories about him, and even succeeded in persuadi
ng
some of the Americans who had previously invited him to be their guest, to
cancel the invitations. But Vivekananda continued to preach the religion of love
, veneration as a Saviour of mankind. How significant were his words: 'It is wel
l
to be born in a church, but it is terrible to die there!' Needless to say, he me
ant
by the word church all organized religious institutions. How like a thunderbolt
the words fell upon the ears of his audience when one day he exclaimed: 'Christ,
Buddha, and Krishna are but waves in the Ocean of Infinite Consciousness that
I am!'
Then there were the leaders of the cranky, selfish, and fraudulent organizations
,
who tried to induce the Swami to embrace their cause, first by promises of
support, and then by threats of injuring him if he refused to ally himself with
them. But he could be neither bought nor frightened 'the sickle had hit on a
stone,' as the Polish proverb says. To all these propositions his only answer wa
s:
'I stand for Truth. Truth will never ally itself with falsehood. Even if all the
world should be against me, Truth must prevail in the end.'
But the more powerful enemies he had to face were among the so-called freethinke
rs,
embracing the atheists, materialists, agnostics, rationalists, and others
of similar breed who opposed anything associated with God or religion. Thinking
that they would easily crush his ancient faith by arguments drawn from Western
philosophy and science, they organized a meeting in New York and invited the
Swami to present his views.
'I shall never forget that memorable evening' wrote an American disciple, 'when
the Swami appeared single-handed to face the forces of materialism, arrayed in
the heaviest armour of law, and reason, and logic, and common sense, of matter,
and force, and heredity, and all the stock phrases calculated to awe and terrify
the ignorant. Imagine their surprise when they found that far from being
intimidated by these big words, he proved himself a master in wielding their
own weapons, and as familiar with the arguments of materialism as with those
of Advaita philosophy. He showed them that their much vaunted Western
science could not answer the most vital questions of life and being, that their
immutable laws, so much talked of, had no outside existence apart from the
human mind, that the very idea of matter was a metaphysical conception, and
that it was much despised metaphysics upon which ultimately rested the very
basis of their materialism. With an irresistible logic he demonstrated that thei
r
knowledge proved itself incorrect, not by comparison with that which was true,
but by the very laws upon which it depended for its basis; that pure reason coul
d
not help admitting its own limitations and pointed to something beyond reason;
and that rationalism, when carried to its last consequences, must ultimately
land us at something which is above matter, above force, above sense, above
thought, and even consciousness, and of which all these are but manifestations.'
As a result of his explaining the limitations of science, a number of people fro
m the group of free-thinkers attended the Swami's meeting the next day and
listened to his uplifting utterances on God and religion.
What an uphill work it was for Swami Vivekananda to remove the ignorance,
superstition, and perverted ideas about religion in general and Hinduism in
particular! No wonder he sometimes felt depressed. In one of these moods he
wrote from Detroit, on March 15, 1894, to the Hale sisters in Chicago:
I do not know why. I am wearied of lecturing and all that nonsense. This
mixing with hundreds of human animals, male and female, has disturbed
me. I will tell you what is to my taste. I cannot write cannot speak
but I can think deep, and when I am heated can speak fire. But it should
be to a select few a very select few. And let them carry and sow my
ideas broadcast if they will not I. It is only a just division of labour.
The same man never succeeded in thinking and in casting his thoughts
all around. Such thoughts are not worth a penny. ... I am really not
'cyclonic' at all far from it. What I want is not here nor can I longer
bear this cyclonic atmosphere. Calm, cool, nice, deep, penetrating,
independent, searching thought a few noble pure mirrors which will
reflect it back, catch it until all of them sound in unison. Let others throw
it to the outside world if they will. This is the way to perfection to be
prefect, to make perfect a few men and women. My idea of doing good is
this to evolve a few giants, and not to strew pearls to the swine and
lose time, breath, and energy. ... Well, I do not care for lecturing any
more. It is too disgusting to bring me to suit anybody's or any audience's
fad.
Swami Vivekananda became sick of what he termed 'the nonsense of public life
and newspaper blazoning.'
The Swami had sincere admirers and devotees among the Americans, who
looked after his comforts, gave him money when he lacked it, and followed his
instructions. He was particularly grateful to American women, and wrote many
letters to his friends in India paying high praise to their virtues.