Famous Speeches: Swami Vivekananda at 1893 World Parliament of Religions
The world’s first Parliament of Religions, which was held in the
city of Chicago from September 11 to 27, 1893, was one of the great
epoch-making events in the history of religions, especially in
regards to Hinduism. Delegates came from all parts of the world,
representing every form of organized religious belief. It was not
only a Parliament of Religions; it was a parliament of humanity; and
if this great assembly of religious ideas and creeds had done
nothing more than make society aware of the "Unity in diversity" of
the religious outlook of man, it would still have been unequaled
among ecumenical conventions in character and importance. But it did
far more than that. It roused a wave of new awareness in the Western
world of the profundity and vitality of Eastern thought.
News that the Parliament was to be held was heralded to all parts of
the globe. Committees of various kinds were formed to organize it on
a proper basis, and invitations were sent out to the heads or
executive bodies of religious organizations the world over. Every
religious creed was to send its own delegate or delegates, as the
case might be, and reception committees were to receive them on
their arrival in Chicago.
During the seventeen days of the Parliament proper, there assembled
a great concourse of humanity, which included many of the most
distinguished people of the world. Many of the greatest minds of the
West were in daily attendance, and among the delegates were high
ecclesiastics of various faiths.
The main sessions of the Parliament were held morning, afternoon,
and evening in the large Hall of Columbus. Generally, the Hall of
Columbus was full to overflowing; indeed, at times the overflow was
so great that it nearly filled the adjoining twin Hall of
Washington, where the speakers repeated their lectures to a second
vast audience. Hundreds of papers and addresses were delivered
during the main sessions. In addition, many talks were given before
the thirty-five denominational congresses and auxiliary sections
which were held either in the Hall of Washington or in the smaller
halls of the building.
Swami Vivekananda himself described the opening of the Parliament
and his own state of mind in replying to the welcome offered to the
delegates:
On the morning of the opening of the Parliament, we all assembled
in a building called the Art Palace, where one huge, and other
smaller temporary halls were erected for the sittings of the
Parliament. People from all nations were there. There was a grand
procession, and we were all marshaled onto the platform. Imagine a
hall below and a huge gallery above, packed with six or seven
thousand men and women representing the best culture of the country,
and on the platform learned men of all nations on the earth. And I
who never spoke in public in my life to address this august
assemblage!
It was opened in great form with music and ceremony and speeches;
then the delegates were introduced one by one, and they stepped up
and spoke! Of course my heart was fluttering and my tongue nearly
dried up; I was so nervous, and could not venture to speak in the
morning. All were prepared and came with ready-made speeches. I was
a fool and had none, but stepped up and made a short speech, and
when it was finished, I sat down almost exhausted with emotion.
Indeed, that sea of faces might have given even a practiced orator
stage fright. To speak before such a distinguished, critical, and
highly intellectual gathering required intense self-confidence. The
Swami had walked in the imposing procession of delegates, and had
seen the huge assembly, the eager faces of the audience, and the
authoritative and dignified princes of the Christian churches who
sat on the platform. He was, as it were, lost in amazement by the
splendor of it all.
He himself was alternately rapt in silent prayer and stirred by the
eloquence of the speakers who had preceded him. Several times he had
been called upon to speak, but he had said, "No, not now," until the
Chairman was puzzled and wondered if he would speak at all. At
length, in the late afternoon, the Chairman insisted, and the Swami
arose.
His face glowed like fire. His eyes surveyed in a sweep the huge
assembly before him. The whole audience grew intent; a pin could
have been heard to fall. Then he addressed his audience as "Sisters
and Brothers of America." And with that, before he had uttered
another word, the whole Parliament was caught up in a great wave of
enthusiasm, as "seven thousand people rose to their feet in tribute"
with shouts of applause. The Parliament had gone mad; everyone was
cheering, cheering, cheering! The Swami was bewildered. For several
minutes he attempted to speak, but the wild enthusiasm of the
audience prevented it.
The audience, as a whole, could not have known precisely why it
cheered for Swamiji at his very first words. In other cases, there
had been obvious reasons: political or religious sympathy, or
previous knowledge of the speaker. In Vivekananda?s case there was
nothing like this. No, it was inspired by something unspoken that
came through Swamiji’s words. Bearing in mind that this was the
first time he had addressed the great American public, and that he
himself was strongly moved by the occasion, one cannot but think
that the deepest powers of his Spirit were fully active as he stood
there on the platform, and that the knowledge of his oneness with
that huge crowd of men and women was communicating itself
irresistibly to those who saw and heard him. The spontaneous and
prolonged standing ovation that met Swamiji’s first words of
greeting sprang from a source as deep as did those words themselves,
and the rapport that was immediately created between himself and his
audience beckoned the real significance of his visit to the West.
When silence was restored, the Swami continued his address, quoted
here in part:
It fills my heart with joy unspeakable to rise in response to the
grand words of welcome given to us by you. I thank you in the name
of the most ancient order of monks the world has ever seen, of which
the Buddha was only a member. I thank you in the name of the Mother
of religions, of which Buddhism and Jainism are but branches; and I
thank you, finally, in the name of the millions and millions of
Hindu people?
I am proud to belong to a religion that has taught the world both
tolerance and universal acceptance?We believe not only in universal
tolerance but we accept all religions to be true. I will quote to
you, brothers, a few lines from a hymn which every Hindu child
repeats every day. I feel that the very spirit of this hymn, which I
have repeated from my earliest boyhood, which is every day repeated
by millions and millions of men in India, has at last come to be
realized. "As the different streams, having their sources in
different places, all mingle their water in the sea; O Lord, so the
different paths which men take through different tendencies, various
though they appear, crooked or straight, all lead to Thee."
The present convention, which is one of the most august assemblies
ever held, is in itself an indication, a declaration to the world of
the wonderful doctrine preached in the Bhagavad Gita: "Whosoever
comes to Me, through whatsoever form I reach him, all are struggling
through paths that in the end always lead to Me."
Sectarianism, bigotry and its horrible descendant, fanaticism, have
possessed long this beautiful earth. It has filled the earth with
violence, drenched it often and often with human blood, destroyed
civilizations, and sent whole nations into despair. But its time has
come, and I fervently believe that the bell that tolled this morning
in honor of the representatives of the different religions of the
earth at this Parliament is the death-knell to all fanaticism, that
it is the death-knell to all persecution with the sword or the pen,
and to all uncharitable feelings between brethren winding their way
to the same goal, but through different ways.
The applause that had punctuated Swamiji’s talk thundered out at its
close. The people had recognized their hero and had taken him to
their hearts; thenceforth he was the star of the Parliament.
It was only a short talk, but its spirit of universality, its
fundamental earnestness, and its broadmindedness completely
captivated the whole assembly. The Swami announced the universality
of religious truths and the sameness of the goal of all religious
realizations. And he was able to do so because he had sat at the
feet of Paramahamsa Ramakrishna, a man of complete and authentic
Realization, in far-off India, and had learned from him the truth
that all religions were one, that they were all paths leading to the
selfsame goal, the selfsame God. When the Swami sat down, the
Parliament signified its approval by giving him a great and
continuous ovation.
Commenting on the reception accorded to the Swami’s first appearance
before the Parliament, the Rev. John Henry Barrows wrote in The
World’s Parliament of Religions, "When Swami Vivekananda addressed
the audience as ?Sisters and Brothers of America,? there arose a
standing ovation that lasted for several minutes." Another
eyewitness, Mrs. S. K. Blodgett, later recalled: "When that young
man got up and said, ‘Sisters and Brothers of America,’ seven
thousand people rose to their feet as a tribute to something they
knew not what."
There are several contemporaneous descriptions and appreciations of
Swamiji quoted in Life Magazine, and from various periodicals such
as the Boston Evening Transcript. One of the finest appraisals comes
from the Honorable Mr. Merwin-Marie Snell, President of the
Scientific Section of the Parliament, as reported in Life Magazine;
/Vivekananda was beyond question the most popular and influential
speaker in the Parliament, who on all occasions was received with
greater enthusiasm than any other speaker, Christian or Pagan.
Harriet Monroe, the founder of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, a
publication through which she introduced many of America’s now
famous poets, attended the World’s Fair, and recorded her
impressions of the Parliament and of Vivekananda:
The Congress of Religions was a triumph for all concerned,
especially for its generalissimo, the Reverend John H. Barrows, of
Chicago’s First Presbyterian Church, who had been preparing it for
two years. When he brought down his gavel upon the world’s first
Parliament of Religions, a wave of breathless silence swept over the
audience ?? it seemed a great moment in human history, prophetic of
the promised new era of tolerance and peace. On the stage with him,
at his left, was a black-coated array of bishops and ministers
representing the various familiar Protestant sects and the Russian
Orthodox and Roman Catholic Churches; at his right, a brilliant
group of strangely costumed dignitaries from afar ?? a Confucian
from China, a Jain from India, a Theosophist from Allahabad, a
white-robed Shinto priest and four Buddhists from Japan, and a monk
of the orange robe from Bombay.
It was the last of these, Swami Vivekananda, the magnificent, who
stole the whole show and captured the town. Others of the foreign
groups spoke well, but the handsome monk in the orange robe gave us
in perfect English a masterpiece. His personality, dominant,
magnetic; his voice, rich as a bronze bell; the controlled fervor of
his feeling; the beauty of his message to the Western world he was
facing for the first time ?? these combined to give us a rare and
perfect moment of supreme emotion. It was human eloquence at its
highest pitch.
On September 19, the Swami read his celebrated paper on "Hinduism"
?? a summary of the philosophy, psychology, and general ideas and
practices of Hinduism. Though the Swami was not the only Indian, or
even the only Bengali present, he was the only representative of
Hinduism proper. The other Hindu delegates stood for societies or
churches or sects, but the Swami stood for Hinduism in its universal
aspect. He gave forth the ideas of the Hindus concerning the soul
and its destiny; he expounded the doctrines of the Vedanta
philosophy, which harmonizes all religious ideals and all forms of
worship, viewing them as various presentations of truth and as
various paths to its realization. He preached the religious
philosophy of Hinduism, which declares the soul to be eternally
pure, eternally free, only appearing in the material world of the
senses to be limited and manifold. He spoke of the attainment of the
goal ?? the realization of One Eternal Divinity ?? as the result of
innumerable efforts of many lives. He said that in order to realize
our own Divinity, the self that says "I" and "mine" must vanish.
This, however, did not mean the denial of true individuality; it
meant, rather, its utmost fulfillment. By destroying the ignorance
of selfishness within, one attained to infinite, universal
individuality. The pervasive spirit of his address was the truth of
Oneness. And he insisted that the realization of the Divinity within
us inevitably led to our being able to see Divinity manifest
everywhere.
In this stunning talk, Swami Vivekananda gave coherence and unity to
the bewildering number of sects and beliefs that through untold ages
have gathered and flowered under the name of Hinduism. He revealed
the central beliefs common to each widely divergent sect. He made it
all not only clear but supremely inspiring, a living religion
springing eternally from the very soul of humanity itself.
Indeed, in this first statement of the Hindu religion that Swamiji
made to the American public lay the seeds of all his subsequent
teachings; that which he was later to develop and formulate in
language adapted to Western understanding and culture was all there.
Perhaps in that moment not only was Hinduism re-created, but a new
religion for the world was given its first enunciation in the West
?? a religion both fulfilling the past, and lighting up the future.
Among the many people who long remembered Swamiji?s paper on
Hinduism and were profoundly moved by it, was a young student who
went on to become a well-known and influential philosopher. In his
"Recollections of Swami Vivekananda," William Ernest Hocking wrote
in his later years:
/We all carry about with us unsolved problems of adjustment to this
many-angled world. Without formulating questions, we are living
quests, unless by some rare chance our philosophy of life is
entirely settled. And to meet such a person may resolve a quest
wholly without his knowledge; it may simply be a mode of being that
brings the release.
This was in measure the story of my first encounter with Swami
Vivekananda, though I was only one of an immense audience…I was a
casual visitor at the Fair, just turning twenty, interested in a
dozen exhibits on the Midway…But aside from all this, I had a
quietly disturbing problem of my own.
I had been reading all I could get of the works of Herbert
Spencer…I was convinced by him;…and yet it was somehow a vital
injury to think of man as merely of the animals ?? birth, growth,
mating, death ?? and nothing more ?? finis. I had had in my religion
?? Methodism ?? an experience of conversion with a strange
enlightenment that gave me three days of what felt like a new vision
of things, strangely lifted up. Spencer had explained that all away
as just an emotional flurry ?? the world must be faced with a steady
objective eye. The Christian cosmology was simply fancy.
But still, Christianity was not the only religion. There were to be
speakers from other traditions. They might have some insight that
would relieve the tension. I would go for an hour and listen. I
didn’t know the program. It happened to be Vivekananda’s period.
He spoke not as arguing from a tradition, or from a book, but as
from an experience and certitude of his own. I do not recall the
steps of his address. But there was a passage toward the end, in
which I can still hear the ring of his voice, and feel the silence
of the crowd ?? almost as if shocked. The audience was well-mixed,
but could be taken as one in assuming the Christian teachings that
there had been a "fall of man" resulting in a state of "original
sin," such that "All men have sinned and come short of the glory of
God." But what is the speaker saying? I hear his emphatic rebuke:
"Call men sinners?
It is a sin to call men sinners!"
Through the silence I felt something like a gasp running through
the hall as the audience waited for the affirmation which must
follow this blow. What his following words were, I cannot recall
with the same verbal clarity: they carried the message that in all
men there is that divine essence, undivided and eternal: reality is
One, and that One, which is Brahman, constitutes the central being
of each one of us.
For me, this doctrine was a startling departure from anything that
my scientific psychology could then recognize. One must live with
these ideas and consider how one’s inner experience could entertain
them. But what I could feel and understand was that this man was
speaking from what he knew, not from what he had been told. He was
well aware of the books; but he was more immediately aware of his
own experience and his own status in the world; and what he said
would have to be taken into account in any final world-view. I began
to realize that Spencer could not be allowed the last word. And
furthermore, that this religious experience of mine, which Spencer
would dismiss as a psychological flurry, was very akin to the
grounds of Vivekananda’s own certitude.
Day after day the Parliament went on, with the Swami often speaking
extemporaneously at its main sessions. He was allowed to speak
longer than the usual half-hour, and being the most popular speaker,
he was always scheduled last in order to hold the audience. The
people would sit from ten in the morning to ten at night, with only
a recess of a half-hour for lunch, listening to paper after paper,
in order to hear their favorite.
On September 27, the Swami delivered his "Address at the Final
Session," and here he again rose to one of his most prophetic and
luminous moods. He declared:
The Christian is not to become a Hindu or a Buddhist, nor a Hindu or
a Buddhist to become a Christian. But each must assimilate the
spirit of the others, and yet preserve his individuality and grow
according to his own law of growth….
If the Parliament of Religions has shown anything to the world, it
is this: It has proved to the world that holiness, purity, and
charity are not the exclusive possessions of any church in the
world, and that every system has produced men and women of the most
exalted character.
Thus did the unknown monk blossom into a world figure; the wandering
renunciate of solitary days in India had overnight become the
Prophet of a New Dispensation!
On all sides his name resounded. Life-size pictures of him were
posted in the streets of Chicago, with the words "The Monk
Vivekananda" beneath them, and passers-by would stop to do reverence
with bowed head. "From the day the wonderful Professor (Vivekananda)
delivered his speech, which was followed by other addresses, he was
followed by a crowd wherever he went," a contemporary newspaper
reported. The press rang with his fame. The best known and most
conservative of the metropolitan newspapers proclaimed him a Prophet
and a Seer. Indeed, the New York Herald spoke of him in these words:
/He is undoubtedly the greatest figure in the Parliament of
Religions. After hearing him we feel how foolish it is to send
missionaries to this learned nation.
The Boston Evening Transcript wrote on September 30:
He is a great favorite at the Parliament from the grandeur of his
sentiments and his appearance as well. If he merely crosses the
platform he is applauded, and yet this marked approval of thousands
he accepts in a childlike spirit of gratification without a trace of
conceit.
Other leading newspapers of the United States were also eloquent
about Swami Vivekananda. Well-known periodicals quoted his talks in
full. The Review of Reviews described his address as "noble and
sublime," and the Critic of New York spoke of him as "an orator by
Divine right." Similar accounts of the Swami’s triumph appeared in
other papers too numerous to quote here. Among personal
appreciations, the Honorable Merwin-Marie Snell wrote some time after:
No religious body made so profound an impression upon the
Parliament and the American people at large as did Hinduism. And by
far the most important representative of Hinduism was Swami
Vivekananda, who, in fact, was beyond question the most popular and
influential man in the Parliament. He frequently spoke, both on the
floor of the Parliament itself, and at the meetings of the
Scientific Section over which I had the honor to preside, and, on
all occasions, he was received with greater enthusiasm than any
other speaker, Christian or "Pagan." The people thronged about him
wherever he went, and hung with eagerness on his every word…The
most rigid of orthodox Christians say of him, "He is indeed a prince
among men!"
Dr. Annie Besant, who helped popularize the movement of Theosophy,
gave her impression of the Swami at the Parliament:
/A striking figure, clad in yellow and orange, shining like the sun
of India in the midst of the heavy atmosphere of Chicago, a lion
head, piercing eyes, mobile lips, movements swift and abrupt ?? such
was my first impression of Swami Vivekananda, as I met him in one of
the rooms set apart for the use of the delegates to the Parliament
of Religions. Off the platform, his figure was instinct with pride
of country, pride of race ?? the representative of the oldest of
living religions, surrounded by curious gazers of nearly the
youngest religion. India was not to be shamed before the hurrying
arrogant West by this her envoy and her son. He brought her message,
he spoke in her name, and the herald remembered the dignity of the
royal land whence he came. Purposeful, virile, strong, he stood out,
a man among men, able to hold his own.
On the platform another side came out. The dignity and the inborn
sense of worth and power still were there, but all was subdued to
the exquisite beauty of the spiritual message which he had brought,
to the sublimity of that matchless truth of the East which is the
heart and the life of India, the wondrous teaching of the Self.
Enraptured, the huge multitude hung upon his words; not a syllable
must be lost, not a cadence missed! "That man, a heathen!" said one,
as he came out of the great hall, "and we send missionaries to his
people! It would be more fitting that they should send missionaries
to us!"
So meteoric was the transformation of the Swami from obscurity to
fame, that it can be truly said that he "awoke one morning to find
himself famous."
Though the news about the proceedings of the Parliament of
Religions, and about the Swami, had been coming out in the Indian
newspapers since mid-September of 1893, it did not catch the
attention of the Indian people till November, when a long article
entitled "Hindus at the Fair," first published in the Boston Evening
Transcript of September 23, appeared in the leading papers of
Bombay, Calcutta and Madras. This article brought to India the first
inkling that something extraordinary was taking place halfway around
the globe. It read in part:
Vivekananda’s address before the Parliament was broad as the
heavens above us; embracing the best in all religions, as the
ultimate universal religion ?? charity to all mankind, good works
for the love of God, not for fear of punishment or hope of reward.
He is a great favorite at the Parliament, from the grandeur of his
sentiments and his appearance as well. If he merely crosses the
platform he is applauded, and this marked approval of thousands he
accepts in a childlike spirit of gratification, without a tram of
conceit. It must be a strange experience, too, for this humble young
Brahmin monk, this sudden transition from poverty and
self-effacement, to affluence and aggrandizement…
From that time on, as news of Swami Vivekananda’s spectacular
success at Chicago came from the American Press, it was reprinted in
the leading Indian newspapers, notably the Indian Mirror, with
enthusiastic editorial comments. It was not long before all of India
knew that a young monk, a penniless sannyasin, had crossed the
ocean, mixed with foreigners, and conquered the great international
Parliament of Religions.
Soon after came the publication of the Rev. John Henry Barrows’
two-volume work, The World’s Parliament of Religions ?? an official
and detailed history of the event. The book was reviewed
exhaustively in the January issue of the American periodical, the
Review of Reviews, which account was, in turn, commented upon at
length in an editorial in the Indian Mirror of February 21, 1894.
The fact that Barrows had given a prominent place to Swami
Vivekananda and to his paper on Hinduism in his history put an
official and impressive seal on the Swami?s great accomplishment.
His achievement could no longer be brushed aside as a passing
sensation by Christian missionaries and others to whose interest it
was to discredit him. The deep mark he had made was now a matter of
solid historical record. The Mirror’s editorial read in part:
Dr. John Henry Barrows, the President of the Parliament of
Religions, has just published the official report of the Parliament.
A prominent place has been accorded to Swami Vivekananda in the
report. "This speaker," says Dr. Barrows, "is a high-caste Hindu and
representative of orthodox Hinduism. He was one of the principal
personalities in the Parliament." Dr. Barrows characterizes the
Swami’s address as "noble and sublime," and it was so much
appreciated for its breadth, its sincerity and its excellent spirit
of toleration, that the Hindu representative soon came to be as much
liked outside the Parliament as within it…
Whatever may be the practical outcome of Swami Vivekananda’s mission
to America, there can be no question that it has already had the
effect of immensely raising the credit of true Hinduism in the eyes
of the civilized world, and that is, indeed, a work for which the
whole Hindu community should feel grateful to the Swami.
Mr. Merwin-Marie Snell, President of the Scientific Section of the
Parliament, wrote a long letter to the editor of the Pioneer, an
Anglo-Indian newspaper of Allahabad. His letter, dated January 30,
1894, was printed in the Pioneer on March 8 of the same year.
This laudatory letter, written by a highly respected Western
scholar, together with editorial reactions to it, added to India?s
amazement and journalistic attention relating to the Swami’s success
at the Parliament of Religions. A passage from Mr. Snell’s letter
has been quoted earlier in this chapter; other portions read as
follows:
I have felt inspired to voice the unanimous and heartfelt gratitude
and appreciation of the cultured and broadminded portion of our
public, and to give my personal testimony, as the President of the
Scientific Section of the Parliament and of all the Conferences
connected with the latter, and therefore an eyewitness, to the
esteem in which Paramahamsa Vivekananda is held here, the influence
that he is wielding, and the good that he is doing….
Intense is the astonished admiration which the personal presence and
bearing and language of Vivekananda have wrung from a public
accustomed to think of Hindus, thanks to the fables and half-truths
of the missionaries, as ignorant and degraded "heathen": there is no
doubt that the continued interest is largely due to a genuine hunger
for the spiritual truths which India through him has offered to the
American people…
Never before has so authoritative a representative of genuine
Hinduism, as opposed to the emasculated and Anglicized versions of
it so common in these days, been accessible to American inquirers:
and it is certain that the American people at large, will, when he
is gone, look forward with eagerness to his return…America thanks
India for sending him.
Mr. Snell’s letter was widely circulated, and thus the Swami’s
achievement, confirmed again and again by highly reputable sources,
was becoming deeply impressed upon the mind of the Indian people.
The next wave of amazement over the impact of Vivekananda at the
Parliament of Religions to sweep over India was the publication in
Madras and Calcutta of the text of the Swami’s paper on "Hinduism,"
which he had delivered on September 19, 1893. The Calcutta pamphlet
was distributed on March 11, 1894, at Dakshineswar, on the birthday
celebration of Sri Ramakrishna. The Swami’s address created perhaps
the greatest sensation of all, for it left no doubt of what
precisely he had said to the American people, and in what precisely
his achievement consisted. On March 21, the Indian Mirror printed a
lengthy excerpt from his paper, commenting in part:
/
The spirit that reigned over the Parliament and dominated the soul
of almost every religious representative present was that of
universal toleration and universal deliverance, and it ought to be a
matter of pride to India, to all Hindus specially, that no one
expressed, as the American papers say, this spirit so well as the
Hindu representative, Swami Vivekananda. His address struck the
keynote of the Parliament of Religions…The spirit of catholicity
and toleration which distinguishes Hinduism, forming one of its
broadest features, was never before so prominently brought to the
notice of the world as it has been by Swami Vivekananda, and we make
no doubt that the Swami’s address will have an effect on other
religions, whose teachers, preachers, and missionaries heard him,
and were impressed by his utterances. /
As the Swami’s "Paper on Hinduism" circulated through India, the
tremendous historical significance of his mission became apparent to
all. His epoch-making representation of Hinduism at the Parliament
was to raise India not only in the estimation of the West, but in
her own estimation as well, and was eventually to bring about a
profound change in her national life. Years later, on the Swami’s
passing from this world, the Brahmavadin commented:
Had the late lamented Swami Vivekananda done nothing more than
attend the Parliament of Religions in Chicago and deliver that one
speech that brought India and America together almost immediately,
he would still have been entitled to our fullest gratitude. That
speech compelled attention both in method and substance. To Swami
Vivekananda belongs the undying honor of being the pioneer in the
noble work of Hindu religious revival.
The Swami’s appearance at the Parliament of Religions had without
question made him irreversibly famous throughout the world. Never
again was he to wander alone, unknown through his beloved country.
His world mission in its public aspect had begun. But in the midst
of all the immediate acclaim and popularity that his appearance at
the Parliament had brought him, he had no thought for himself; his
heart continued to bleed for the impoverished in India. Personally
he had no more wants. The mansions of some of the wealthiest of
Chicago society were open to him, and he was received as an honored
guest. But instead of feeling happy in this splendid environment,
his heart continued to cry for the suffering souls in his beloved
India. Name and fame and the approval of thousands had in no way
affected him; though sumptuously cared for, he was the same monk as
of old, always thinking of India’s poor. As he retired the first
night and lay upon his bed, the terrible contrast between
poverty-stricken India and opulent America pressed on him. He could
not sleep for pondering over India’s plight. At length, overcome
with emotion, he cried, "O Mother, to what a sad pass have we poor
Indians come when millions of us die for want of a handful of rice,
and here they spend millions of rupees upon their personal comforts!
Who will raise the masses in India! Who will give them bread? Show
me, O Mother, how I can help them."
Over and over again one finds the same intense love for the
suffering shining out in his words and actions. The deep and
spontaneous love that welled in his heart for the poor, the
distressed, and the despised was the inexhaustible spring of all his
activities. From this point on, Swami’s life becomes a world of
intense thought and work. Hand in hand with giving the message of
Hinduism to the West, the Swami was to work constantly trying to
solve the problems of his country. Though the dusty roads and the
parched tongue and the hunger of his days as a wandering monk were
ascetic in the extreme, the experiences he was to undergo in foreign
lands were to be even more severe. He was to strain himself to the
utmost. He was to work until work was no longer possible and the
body dropped off from sheer exhaustion.
Discussion
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