The beginning of 1893 found the Swami plodding up to Madras from Rameswaram, staff and Kamandalu in hand. This, the thirty-first year of his life, was to be one of the most important in it._x000d_ It will be remembered that the Swami had parted from Manmathanath Bhattacharya on reaching Kanyakumari. It so happened that Manmathanath chanced to meet the Swami as the latter journeyed north. He insisted that the Swami travel with him to Madras via Pondicherry and be his guest there. They stayed at Pondicherry for some days, until Mr. Bhattacharya had completed the work for which he had gone there.

It was at Pondicherry that the Swami had a heated discussion with a bigoted pandit on topics relating to Hinduism and its reform. The pandit, being of the old school, opposed the Swami at every turn. He was more bellicose than learned, and he became fierce in his denunciation of the Swami's progressive ideas. The conversation turned to the question of going overseas. The Swami told the pandit that the time had come for Hinduism to take a look at itself; for it to contrast its glories, culture and worth with those of Western civilization; and for it to adjust itself to modern needs and problems, without sacrificing essentials. The pandit met these remarks with violent denunciation, saying that Hinduism was not in nerd of any reform, that Westerners were all Mlechchhas, and that contact with the West would pervert the Hindu people. Evidently the pandit had seen nothing outside his own province, and knew no better. The Swami felt that it was this narrow conservatism, characteristic of many, that was ruining the country. The argument became bitter, and both contestants excited. "My friend," the Swami cried out at last, "what do you mean? Upon every educated Hindu devolves the re-sponsibility of submitting the contents of Hinduism to the test. For this reason we must come out of the limited grooves of the past and take a look at the world as it moves onwards to progress at the present day. And if we find that there are hide bound customs which are impeding the growth of our social life or disturbing our philosophical outlook, it is time for us to advance a step by eschewing them." The Swami spoke also of the uplift of the masses, and said that the time was at hand when the Shudras (labouring class) would rise and demand their rights. He insisted that it was the duty of educated Indians to help the downtrodden classes by giving them education, to spread the ideal of social equality, and to root out the tyranny of priestcraft and the evils that pervasion of the caste system and of the higher principles of religion had brought about. This was altogether too much for the pandit. While the Swami was speaking, the man made insulting gestures, as much as to say, "What can a wandering beggar ¬monk know? He [the Swami] is only a child!" He kept inter¬rupting by blurting out "Kadapi na! Kadapi na!'---"Never! Never!"

It was natural for the pandit to be opposed to reform of any kind, for he was himself embedded in caste distinctions and rigid social customs. Nevertheless the Swami did not let up, but endeavoured to show him how Hinduism itself sanctioned a broadening of outlook and the breaking down of social barriers. He spoke of the levelling influence of Buddhism as the logical development of Hinduism in the social sphere; for the Vedantic ideal of oneness called for a social body imbued with the spirit of equality and fraternity: but of course the groundwork and orientation of reform were to be strictly Hindu. In the end the pandit was able to appreciate the force of the Swami's reasoning, though he still maintained that the Kalapani, or "black water" of the ocean, was the great dividing line between the land of the Hindus and the lands of the Mlechchhas, and was never to be crossed. It seems that what had particularly annoyed him was that a young man like the Swami should have dared to question his (the pandit's) learning and orthodox beliefs.

A few days before leaving Pondicherry, Manmathanath had written to a friend in Mysore that the Swami was with him and would be going to Madras. This friend in turn informed his own friends in Madras. So when the Swami arrived with his host in Madras, there were, awaiting his coming, a dozen or so of the city's finest young men; and these in time became his disciples.