The S.S. Brittanic, the ship on which Swami Vivekananda set sail from Liverpool on November 27, 1895, was by no means the most modern "luxury liner" afloat. Built over twenty years earlier, it had long since been outmoded in design, power, and speed by steamers three times its tonnage, and its comforts were nothing compared to theirs. But the voyage started well.On the second day out, the ship, as was customary, anchored for a few hours off Qneenstown, Ireland, to pick up the mail, and it was very likely from there that Swamiji wrote to Edward T. Sturdy, "So far the journey has been very beautiful.” He had been given a cabin to himself by a friendly purser ("Every Hindu is a Raja, they think, and are very polite, he wrote to Alberta Sturges) ; he had been promised that the fare, which, as he wrote, had been "meat, meat, meat," would be varied by the vegetables he preferred and had been eating exclusively for many months; and he found that the weather, though so foggy that the ship was delayed, was calm and cheerful. But after leaving Queenstown the Brittanic set forth onto the open seas and headed straightway into rough and stormy waters. From then on, the voyage was as Swamiji put it, the most "disastrous" he had ever had. The little ship, endlessly tossing and pitching, made slow, laborious headway through the turbulent Atlantic; and for the first time in his life Swamiji was "very badly seasick - and this for days on end.

R.M.S. "Britannic"_x000d_ Blessed and Beloved {E. T. Sturdy},_x000d_ So far the journey has been very beautiful. The purser has been very kind to me and gave me a cabin to myself. The only difficulty is the food-meat, meat, meat. Today they have promised to give me some vegetables._x000d_ We are standing at anchor now. The fog is too thick to allow the ship to proceed. So I take this opportunity to write a few letters._x000d_ It is a queer fog almost impenetrable though the sun is shining bright and cheerful. Kiss baby for me; and with love and blessings for you and Mrs. Sturdy,_x000d_ I remain, Yours,_x000d_ Vivekananda_x000d_ PS. Kindly convey my love to Miss Muller. I left the night shirt at Avenue Road. So I shall have to do without any until the trunk is brought out of the hold.

New York_x000d_ 1895_x000d_ {To E. T. Sturdy},_x000d_ The work here is going on splendidly. I have been working incessantly at two classes a day since my arrival. Tomorrow I go out of town with Mr. Leggett for a week's holiday. Did you know Madame Antoinette Sterling, one of your greatest singers? She is very much interested in the work._x000d_ I have made over all the secular part of the work to a committee and am free from all that botheration. I have no aptitude for organising. It nearly breaks me to pieces._x000d_ . . . What about the Narada-Sutra ? There will be a good sale of the book here, I am sure. I have now taken up the Yoga-Sutras and take them up one by one and go through all the commentators along with them. These talks are all taken down, and when completed will form the fullest annotated translation of Patanjali in English. Of course it will be rather a big work._x000d_ At Trubner's I think there is an edition of Kurma Purana . The commentator, Vijnana Bhikshu, is continually quoting from that book. I have never seen the book myself. Will you kindly find time to go and see if in it there are some chapters on Yoga? If so, will you kindly send me a copy? Also of the Hatha-Yoga-Pradipika, Shiva-Samhita , and any other book on Yoga? The originals of course. I shall send you the money for them as soon as they arrive. Also a copy of Sankhya-Karika of Ishwara Krishna by John Davies. Just now your letter reached along with Indian letters. The one man who is ready is ill. The others say that they cannot come over on the spur of the moment. So far it seems unlucky. I am sorry they could not come. What can be done? Things go slow in India!_x000d_ Ramanuja's theory is that the bound soul or Jiva has its perfections involved, entered, into itself. When this perfection again evolves, it becomes free. The Advaitin declares both these to take place only in show; there was neither involution nor evolution. Both processes were Maya, or apparent only._x000d_ In the first place, the soul is not essentially a knowing being. Sachchidananda is only an approximate definition, and Neti Neti is the essential definition. Schopenhauer caught this idea of willing from the Buddhists. We have it also in Vasana or Trishna, Pali tanha . We also admit that it is the cause of all manifestation which are, in their turn, its effects. But, being a cause, it must be a combination of the Absolute and Maya . Even knowledge, being a compound, cannot be the Absolute itself, but it is the nearest approach to it, and higher than Vasana, conscious or unconscious. The Absolute first becomes the mixture of knowledge, then, in the second degree, that of will. If it be said that plants have no consciousness, that they are at best only unconscious wills, the answer is that even the unconscious plant-will is a manifestation of the consciousness, not of the plant, but of the cosmos, the Mahat of the Sankhya Philosophy. The Buddhist analysis of everything into will is imperfect, firstly, because will is itself a compound, and secondly, because consciousness or knowledge which is a compound of the first degree, precedes it. Knowledge is action. First action, then reaction. When the mind perceives, then, as the reaction, it wills . The will is in the mind. So it is absurd to say that will is the last analysis. Deussen is playing into the hands of the Darwinists._x000d_ _x000d_ But evolution must be brought in accordance with the more exact science of Physics, which can demonstrate that every evolution must be preceded by an involution. This being so, the evolution of the Vasana or will must be preceded by the involution of the Mahat or cosmic consciousness._x000d_ _x000d_ Consciousness or Mahat _x000d_ _____________________________|___________________________x000d_ | | |_x000d_ Subconscious Conscious Superconscious | | |_x000d_ Unconscious Conscious Superconscious_x000d_ Will Will Proper Will_x000d_ _x000d_ There is no willing without knowing. How can we desire unless we know the object of desire?_x000d_ The apparent difficulty vanishes as soon as you divide knowledge also into subconscious and conscious. And why not? If will can be so treated, why not its father?_x000d_ Vivekananda

The disciples of the Swami were eager from the first to have his extempore lectures and class talks recorded as he made little effort to preserve his own teachings. Therefore in December of 1895 the office-bearers of the New York Vedanta Society, which the Swami had founded the previous year, engaged a stenographer to take down his lectures. But it was found that due to a lack of familiarity with the subject he was unable to keep up with the Swami's flow of words. Another was engaged with the same result. Finally, a young man named Josiah J. Goodwin, who had recently come to New York from England, offered himself for the work. His credentials were excellent. Besides having been a court reporter, he had had eleven years of journalistic training and experience in editing three news-papers. He was engaged, and the result was remarkable: he transcribed exactly the entire Swami's utterances. Further, although he had been a man of the world, with a variegated experience, he forsook the worldly life and all worldly pursuits almost from the moment his eyes fell upon the Swami. The Swami told him many incidents of his past, and this created such a moral revolution in him that his whole life was changed. He became a most ardent disciple, even to the point of attending to the Swami's personal needs. He would work day and night over the lectures, taking them down steno graphically and then typing them the same day, in order to hand over the manuscripts to the newspapers for publication and to be prepared for the same work on the following day. Goodwin's transcripts also served the Brahmavadin in far-off India. "Herewith I send some advance sheets on Bhakti and one lecture on Karma", the Swami wrote to Alasinga Perumal on December 20. "They have engaged a stenographer now to take down all the talks in my classes. So you will have plenty of material [for the magazine] now." The Swami prized "My faithful Goodwin", as he was wont to speak of him, and Goodwin accompanied him wherever he went, visiting Detroit and Boston when he went to those cities in the spring of 1896 and later following him to England and even to India. Without his tireless work, much of the Swami's thought and teachings would have been lost to us; for the Swami was comparatively little given to writing.

It is said in the Life that prior to Goodwin's coming, two stenographers had been tried out and, for one reason or another, been found unequal to the task of recording Swamiji's classes. One of them may have been Swami Kripananda, who, as we have seen earlier, had been working very hard for the past six weeks or so to learn shorthand and typing for this very purpose. But though he had worked for hours every day and had become fairly proficient, he was evidently not expert enough for the task. The second applicant, on the other hand, may have been technically skillful but wanting in comprehension. What was required was an expert shorthand writer and typist who was, at the same time, a man of intel-ligence and spiritual understanding. It would not seem likely that such a person, if available at all, would be available for a job that must have offered a salary lower than the prevailing one of fifteen to eighteen dollars a week. Yet J. J. Goodwin was just such a man. "I have intense faith in Truth," Swamiji had written earlier in the year. "The Lord will send help and hands to work with me. One cannot very well doubt that Goodwin, a handsome young Englishman recently come to America, was, literally, a godsend. Not only was he fully qualified for the task of taking down and transcribing Swamiji's class talks and lectures, but he was capable, as he soon proved, of handling many other matters as well.

Certainly from Mr. Goodwin's point of view, it was by the grace of God that he had found his way to 228 West Thirty ¬ninth Street. Although he was a very competent young man by the age of twenty-five he had behind him eleven years of journalistic training, experience in editing three newspapers, and a job as court reporter-he was also, one reads in Noble Lives by Nagendranath Gupta, "on the highroad to become a wastrel. This impending profligacy of Goodwin's was, one thinks, due more to frustration than to an inherent tendency to dissipate his gifts, for, as far as is known, he came from steady minded stock. Although his lineage has not been traced further back than two generations, one finds that his paternal grandfather, the Reverend Josiah Goodwin, was a Wesleyan minister of Scarborough, Yorkshire, and not given, one can guess, to wastry. The reverend's son, Josiah the younger, born in 1817, also followed a stable course, though not in the ministry. Early in life he discovered that he had an aptitude for journalism and, in line with this, became an expert shorthand writer (probably following the new and innovative Pitman system, first published in 1837). This special and then uncommon skill led him to become for a time the official reporter in connection with the disputes and arbitrations attendant upon the first laying of railway lines in England. Subsequently, Yorkshire left behind, he became a successful editor of, in turn, the Birmingham Advertiser, the Wilts County Mirror, and the Exeter Gazette. Exactly when he married and settled down permanently in Batheaston, a suburb of Bath, is not at present known, but it was there that his children, Margaretta and Josiah John, were born, the latter in September of 1870 and there that he became prominent in Bath's literary life. Though quiet and unassuming, he was soon appointed Honorary Secretary of a number of prestigious and learned institutions, including the Literary and Philosophical Association, the Royal Literary and Scientific Institution, and the Bath Centre of the Oxford Examinations. He was esteemed, as well, as an archaeologist (or, one might better say, an antiquarian) in both Bath and Exeter. From 1859 until his death in 1890, his primary responsibility was that of editor of the Journal of the Bath and West of England Agricultural Society, of which he also served as Secretary for some sixteen years, until poor health forced him to resign. From all accounts, Josiah Goodwin, aside from being a well-honored journalist, was a courtly, gentle, industrious, discreet, modest, and kindly man with a well stocked mind, retentive memory, and sound judgment.* He seems to have passed on most of these qualities to his son, our Josiah John, and to have given him in addition a training in journalism and in speedy shorthand. As for the "wastrel" part in the son's makeup, one could suppose that this was a restless¬ness of soul combined with high spirits, a restlessness that took him (after an unsuccessful newspaper venture in Bath in 1893) to Australia and then to America. He made a living of sorts as he went, editing things here and there, but in the process of this anchorless life his native buoyancy and trust began to bog down in agnosticism and perhaps in despair. And then one cold December day he came to 228 West Thirty-ninth Street._x000d_ * Information regarding Josiah Goodwin, father of Josiah John Goodwin, has been gathered from the (conc.) Journal of the Bath and West of England and Southern Counties Society, June 1890, which journal was un¬earthed through the research of Swami Yogeshananda.

The following report, published in the Brahmavadin of January 18, 1896, gives Swami Kripananda's account of its progress._x000d_ While our beloved Swami Vivekananda was away in England disseminating his sublime teaching with well-deserved success, the seed of truth sown in America did not die away as many were afraid it would in the absence of the Master, but developed and is now beginning to ripen its beautiful fruit. His followers continued his work eagerly, holding regular well-attended meetings, in which they endeavoured to enlighten each other on the difficult questions of Vedanta philosophy, urged one another to make the moral lessons it inculcates a living reality in their daily lives, and, by expanding the circle of its followers, awakened a widespread interest in, and love of, the Hindu people from whom this divine philosophy emanated. Some of the Swami's disciples who, following the example of their great sannyasin teacher, had renounced the world in order to devote themselves entirely to the service of their fellow-men, carried the Swami's message to other cities, and, as our people after a long period of religious indifference and crude materialism are beginning to thirst after spiritual truth, found a ready hearing and succeeded in forming new centres for the propagation of the doctrine of love to God and of universal brotherhood of man. Such independent circles were formed at Buffalo (New York), and Detroit (Michigan), and other cities of the Union where earnest truth-seeking men and women are carrying on the work with a devotion and zeal worthy of our great cause.

The renouncing disciples of the Swami mentioned in the above report were Madame Marie Louise and Leon Landsberg, to both of whom he had given Sannyasa at Thousand Island Park and who were thenceforth known, respectively, as Swami Abhayananda and Swami Kripananda. Both tried in their own enthusiastic ways to keep the message of Vedanta a living force until the Swami returned. Miss S. Ellen Waldo, the devoted follower of the Swami, also played her role in keeping the inspiration of the movement alive, though it would not appear that she engaged herself in any preaching work until October of 1896, when the Swami authorized her to do so.

Contrary to the belief generally held by his biographers-a belief traceable to a fairly exaggerated report given by Swami Kripananda in his newsletter of December 7, 1895, to the Brahmavadin-the work of spreading Vedanta had not been particularly successful during Swamiji's absence in England. The actual story, as far as it is known, is contained in letters written to Mrs. Bull by the two workers themselves-Swami Kripananda and Swami Abhayananda. (Aside from these two, Swamiji had authorized no one else to teach, and there is no indication that Miss Waldo was holding classes or lecturing during this period.)

As far as can be determined, the New York newspapers had not concerned themselves with Swamiji's stay earlier in the year. Cosmopolitan, sophisticated, and churning with people and ideas of all sorts, the city accepted him without fanfare or blazing headlines. Nor was he the controversial figure here that he had been elsewhere in America, giving rise to wordy debates, which the press delighted in. Yet even in this metropolis that took in its stride so much that was foreign and strange, Swamiji's arrival on the Brittanic did not go unremarked. It was, in fact, viewed with amazement by at least one reporter, who hastened to interview this extraordinay visitor. The result, which was reprinted in part in the Brahmavadin,appeared originally in the New York World on Sunday, December 8, 1895, and read in full:

ABOU BEN ADHEM'S IDEAL*_x000d_ _x000d_ Swami Vivekananda the Yogi, Comes from Bombay, Preaching Love for His Fellow-Man._x000d_ _x000d_ To find an ascetic of the Highest Eastern type clad in a red and flowing Hindoo cloak over unmistakable American trousers is necessarily a surprise. But in other thin besides dress is Swami Vivekananda astonishing. In the first place he declares that your religion or any one else's religion is just as good as his own, and if you should happen to be a Christian or Mussulman, Baptist or Brahmin, atheist, agnostic or Catholic, it will make no difference to him. All that he asks is that you act righteously according to your lights._x000d_ _x000d_ The Yogi, with his peculiar notions of dress and worship arrived Friday on the Brittanic. He went to No. 228 West Thirty-ninth street. While in New York he will lecture upon metaphysics and psychology, and will also dis¬seminate in a general way his ideas on the universal religion which asks no man to take another by the throat because his creed happens to be different. "Let me help my fellowman; that is all I seek," he says. _x000d_ _x000d_ There are four general types of men" he- says, "the rational, the emotional, the mystical and the worker. For Them we must have their proper worship. There comes the rational man, who says, I care not for this form of worship. Give me the philosophical, the rational--that I can appreciate.’ So for the rational man is the rational, philosophic worship. _x000d_ _x000d_ “There comes the worker. He says: I care not for the worship of the philosopher. Give me work to do for my fellow-men.' So for him is made a worship, as for the mystical the emotional. In the religion for all these men are the elements of their faith. _x000d_ _x000d_ "No, "said the Swami, very softly, in answer to a question, "I do not believe in the occult. If a thing be unreal it is not. What is unreal does not exist. Strange things are natural phenomena. I know them to be matters of science. Then they are not occult to me. I do not believe in occult societies. They do no good, and can never do good."_x000d_ _x000d_ In fact, the Swami belongs to no society, cult or creed. His is a religion which compasses all worship, all classes, all beliefs._x000d_ _x000d_ Swami, who is a very dark-featured and good-looking young fellow, explained his creed yesterday in remarkably pure English. One forgot when he spoke that an orthodox choker peered over the Bombay robe which in turn scantily concealed the American trousers. One saw instead a winning smile and a pair of deep, lustrous black eyes. One saw instead a winning smile and a pair of deep, lustrous black eyes._x000d_ _x000d_ Swami believes in reincarnation. He believes that with the purification of the body the soul rises to a higher condition, and as the purification through matter continues the spirit rises, until released from further migration and is joined with the universal spirit._x000d_ _x000d_ Such a man as the Jew-baiter Ahlwardt, who has just arrived in this country, the Swami cannot understand. "You say," he said, "that he comes here to preach hate against his fellow-men. Is he not of wrong mind? Is he allowed to spread this hate? The doctors should examine his brain to find out the wrong." _x000d_ _x000d_ The peculiar name of the Yogi signifies, literally, "the bliss of discrimination." He is the first Indian Yogi who ever came to this country. He comes from Bombay._x000d_ _x000d_ *Abou Ben Adhem, the hero of Leigh Hunt's famous poem, who asked a recording angel to list him as loving his fellowmen, was as familiar to Swamiji s contemporaries as was, say, Omar Khayyam.

After leaving Thousand Island Park on the morning of August I, Kripananda had gone to Buffalo, New York, to visit a German couple, a Mr. and Mrs. Tralles, the latter of whom had earlier become his disciple through correspondence. He stayed two weeks with the Tralleses, most pleased to see their natures undergo "a wonderful change." Before leaving, he gave them the vows of brahmacharya.

August 9:_x000d_ And these happy results [he wrote to Mrs. Bull on August 9] together with your kind suggestions indicate to me the line of work in which I may hope to be successful. It is not on the public platform but in the family circle where I must try to disseminate the truths brought to us from the east. And it occurs to me that it might prove a blessing for many if I were to walk afoot through the country, for a short time at least; touching towns and villages, and thus reaching people who, otherwise, might perhaps never have heard of the master's message. I might thus meet some soul thirsting after truth, but groping in the dark, to whom my gospel may prove a blessing. What do you think of this idea? It came to me like an inspiration.

August 15:_x000d_ It would appear from Kripananda's sub sequent letters that he visited New York around August 15 in order to see Swamiji off on his voyage to Europe. Then, perhaps at Swamiji's advice, he went on to Detroit, where he remained for about a month. During that period he wrote four times to Mrs. Bull telling her of his work and thoughts, and since his own words convey the intense sincerity of his efforts better than any other words could, his story can best be told through a few excerpts from his letters, which were almost always very long.

August 27:_x000d_ His first letter from Detroit, written about a week after his arrival, was dated August 27:_x000d_ Well, I have begun under very favorable auspices. So far I held two classes at Mrs. Phelps's residence and we have agreed to meet regularly twice a week. (Mrs. Phelps was a friend of Swamiji's) I have found some brave souls thirsting after truth, the very material Sanyasins are made of, and with the help of the Lord, I trust to be able to lead them to liberation._x000d_ As Miss Greenstidle (sic), a teacher of the public schools, at whose house I stopped on my arrival to Detroit, is very poor, having to support a mother and six sisters, I could not well accept her kind offer to stay in her house, and therefore rented a room for $2 1/2 a week. But I am not sure how long I am going to keep the room, as I intend in the days when free of the classes, to make foot excursions to the neighboring towns and so carry out my plans spoken of to you in New York. I find more and more that my chief force consists in individual teaching . . ._x000d_ _x000d_ I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Mrs. [John J.] Bagley who regularly attends my classes. She is a very lovely woman. She practices meditation under my directions and though I cannot expect to make of her a Sanyasyna [sic], I am sure that she will turn out a good Karma Yogi if not a sincere Bhakti Yogi.

September 6:_x000d_ _x000d_ Next Monday [September 9) I start a new class which will be composed of poor young men and women. Besides I have got now three individual disciples who earnestly desire to live the life of purity and renunciation. It is these for whom I care most. As regards the others who take up the study of Yoga in the hope of acquiring wonderful powers by means of breathing exercises, I tell them plainly that their hope is for nothing, and . . . their Breathing exercises . . . may result in physical and mental injury for them. . . . As I do not charge any fee, I am free to teach them what I please; and I am pleased to teach above all Karma Yoga & Bhakti. . . ._x000d_ _x000d_ As soon as I finish my work here I intend to perfectly isolate myself from the world at least for forty days. I do not know how this thought came to me, but I feel I ought to carry it out.

September 16:_x000d_ Your kind note with enclosure was received. [Mrs. Bull sent money to Kripananda almost regularly, as did Swamiji.)… The check came this time quite a propos. As I do not charge for my teachings I have to depend on the free contributions of my disciples.. The poor disciples cannot afford to make any contributions . . . While the wealthy ones seem to labor under the mistake that a Sanyasin can live on pure ether. The Lord bless them. What they principally want is to attain the power to make_x000d_ More money…_x000d_ What I crave for is to find some brave souls who for God's and Truth's sake are willing to give up everything¬even their lives. Thanks the Lord, I have found here two such souls. (To one of these two young men, he gave the vows of brahmacharya.)…_x000d_ _x000d_ I have a class of poor girls, from 18 to 24. Years of age, who are very eager to lead a holy life. Of course, I cannot expect to make of them Sanyasins; but I shall be very happy, if my teachings will turn them from worldly frivolities to God._x000d_ I am studying now very hard the Tattvas.* a subject which the Swami hardly touched in his lectures, but which seems to me one of the most important and interesting studies in the Science of Yoga. It gives the rationale of the breathing exercises, and opens a vast field of investiga¬tion that leads to a true knowledge of our nature…_x000d_ The more I meditate on the Advaita philosophy, the more I come to disagree with Sankaracharya and to accept Ramanuji's (sic) commentary. If this world be a mere illusion-as Sankara would have it-then we have no right to infer a reality behind it. From nothing we cannot infer something (There follows a long discussion of this point.)_x000d_ Next week I shall carry out my strong longing for a solitary life. I shall take-in a little town in the neighborhood a room, and become entirely invisible to the world. Letters will reach me through the old address._x000d_ * By the "Tattvas" Kripananda was very probably referring to a Theosophical work by Rama Prasad entitled Nature's Finer Forces, which included the author's translation from the Sanskrit of the Tantric work "The Science of Breath and the Philosophy of the Tattvas." The "Tattvas," as here defined, were the evolutes of cosmic force. The book dealt to a large extent with psychic phenomena. Its second edition had been published in London in 1894.. (It is also possible, but not likely, that Kripananda had in mind the pancatattva--the five "forbidden" things of Tantric practice, in which case the Detroit ladies could well have been aghast.)

September 18:_x000d_ I have closed my classes being with the results achieved very much pleased. Friedeberg writes me from New York that Abhayananda (formerly Mme Marie Louise) had made two Bramacharyas (sic). Now, I am much slower with making Bramacharyas. Many are called but few are chosen…_x000d_ I shall leave tomorrow for Buffalo where I intend to stay about a week. My presence there is necessitated by my two Bramacharyas who gave proof of their earnestness and sincerity. I feel as though I have to give them strength and courage in one of the most critical periods of their spiritual development…_x000d_ _x000d_ So, in answer to your question: Would you like to come to see me for a while? I answer: Yes. . . . I regard your kind invitation as a call from the Lord, and am sure that by following it, some good will result.

The three or four weeks that Swami Kripananda spent in Cambridge with Mrs. Bull and her two other guests, Miss Elizabeth Hamlen and a Mrs. Walling, were extremely happy ones for him, and perhaps for the others as well. In his good moods he could be an interesting and entertaining companion. "He had all the great qualities of his race-emotion, imagination, a passion for learning and a worship of genius," Sister Christine was later to write of him. ". . . His intimate knowledge of Europe, its philosophies, its languages, its culture, gave him a profundity and depth of mind which are rare." All this would have appealed to Mrs. Bull, and there must have been a flow of good talk between them. It was perhaps one of the few truly happy times of Landsberg's life; indeed, he seems to have had a sense of the oasis like quality of those weeks and a foreboding of difficult days ahead. Returning to New York, he wrote to Mrs. Bull on October 21 from Miss Thursby's home in Gramercy Park, where he was staying for a few days:_x000d_ When I look back upon the few weeks of my sojourn in your house, it appears to me as though my soul had spent there the blissful dream of Devachan [sic], and the reminiscence of the continuous calm and peace I enjoy in your presence will brighten and carry me over many a dark and troublesome day that may await me in the future…._x000d_ I saw Abhayananda last night, who held a class on the Sankya [sic] philosophy in her house. There were present about 8 or 9 persons. I am surprised to find how much knowledge in so short a time Abhayananda has acquired on these subjects. She looks very well…_x000d_ As soon as I settle somewhere, I shall begin writing out for you lessons as well as experimental texts of Yoga and the Tattvas.

October 27:_x000d_ Kripananda's next letter to Mrs. Bull was a very long one, dated October 27, and read in small part:_x000d_ Your kind note as usual, helped to strengthen me in my struggles to become perfect. Your letters always bring to me messages of peace, hope and faith, and inspire me with courage, whenever in view of the many obstacles in the way to liberation, my will becomes weak and my soul despondent…_x000d_ ....I have taken quarters at 228 W 39th street…. I am working very hard. In order to get rapidity in short¬hand I started a course of 20 lessons in Paine's Business College for $ I 2, taking a lesson every day and then practicing for four or five hours. [Kripananda had started studying shorthand a week or so before going to Thousand Island Park. His purpose was to be able to take down Swamiji's lectures.] Then I study and practice Yoga. By the way, I hope to get ready for you before the end of the week a lesson on the Kundalini, which will help you to more thoroughly understand the rationale of Raja Yoga, and besides give you a certain object for your meditations._x000d_ …. Abhayananda has made great progress; she must have studied hard the Hindu philosophy since my absence. I am glad to say that she also practices meditation, a thing which must be very difficult for her lively, mobile French mind._x000d_ I shall go this afternoon to Friedebergs in order to look up in my Kabalistic book some appropriate monogram for you and Miss (Mrs.] Walling._x000d_ A Day or so later, after consulting his Kabalistic book, Kripananda sent "a seal" to Mrs. Bull along with a very long exposition of the meaning of various Hebrew mantras. He enclosed also a seal for Mrs. Walling. Through November things went on in more or less the same way for him. He continued to practice his shorthand; he prepared long lessons on raja yoga for Mrs. Bull; he took over the Wednesday class of the Vedanta Society from Swami Abhayananda and spoke to the members on the Tattvas. He made two more disciples who were "ready to sacrifice everything for His sake he had another seal engraved with Hebrew letter's for Mrs. Bull, wrote many pages of spiritual counsel for her, and found her letters "permeated with that spirit of love which I endeavor to nourish in your heart." The Vedanta Society began to hold its classes in his lodging house, and he made "every effort to make the lessons both interesting and instructive. He lived an exceedingly austere life, eating very little and accepting no money, except, it would seem, from Swamiji and Mrs. Bull.

From Thousand Island Park she had gone to her small Greenwich Village house at 179 Waverly Place and had there started to hold classes. "I have worked very hard," she was to declare to Mrs. Bull, "making propaganda, preaching, teaching, talking, writing on Hinduism.But for all that, the classes were small, a fact for which Abhayananda, proud and quick to take offense, felt the officers of the Vedanta Society were to blame.

On November 22 she wrote an outraged letter to Mrs. Bull, which read in part:_x000d_ Dear Madam,_x000d_ I have just gone through the strangest experience of my life regarding those classes which I started in accordance to the specific instructions of Swami Vivekananda. The offers of the Society took in their heads that I wanted to teach them! and sent me Kripananda on his return here to tell me that "I try to force myself as a teacher on the society, that I create antagonism and offend every body." He; at that visit, promised me to come to my classes and be present on the following Saturday. But he never came, neither did he ever call on me since although I went to his own class (when he returned here, I vacated the chair at Wednesdays' meeting in his favor) and listened to what he had to say. _x000d_ Some ladies from Brooklyn and New York attended the meetings in my own house for a few times, but they have been persuaded to discontinue and leave me alone. _x000d_ Had the officers of the society had any common knowledge of what it is to propagate new ideas they had helped by their presence and other duties required by the starting of such a movement. But they shun my house as if the pest were in it, and have completely isolated me from everyone. It is not to me, they did the harm, but to the cause I endeavor to advocate, the truths I seek to preach. My residence as you know, is not well situated to attract people, the street is too crooked for New Yorkers to find their way easily. I spoke of moving (on my return from the [Thousand] Islands) but was told not to do it._x000d_ Indeed, I have moved in organized Societies of all kinds in my life, but I have never met anything so indescribable as the attitude assumed by those who believe themselves entrusted with the piloting of the Society of which I am a Sanyasin. Wonders will never cease.

To judge from a letter that Swamiji had written from England to Abhayananda in October of 1895, she had complained to him of her difficulties in somewhat the same vein and had, in addition, evidently expressed an intention, or threat, to defect.* The portion of Swamiji's letter that has been published in the Complete Works,** though magnificent in itself seems harmless. But when it is read as a reply to Abhayananda's grievances, its underlying reproofs suddenly glow like live coals. The following more complete version of this stunning rebuke has recently been found among Mrs. Bull's papers:_x000d_ * In what he supposed was a defense of Swamiji, Kripananda wrote to Mrs. Bull on December 22, 1895, "Do you know that [Abhayananda] threatened him in spite of all he had done for her--to go over to the Theosophists if he would not satisfy her constant demand for money, more money. Imagine! Apart from breaking a sanyasin's pledge not to belong to any society, she joined or threatened to join those who spread the filthiest calumnies against her Guru and benefactor!" Allowing for Kripananda's generally heated views of most matters, we can still assume that Abhayananda had written to Swamiji of the advantages of belonging to an organized and wealthy society, such as the Theosophical Society, which was (cont.) indeed inimical to him at that period._x000d_ ** As published in the Complete Works (7: 487-88) this letter (the original of which is no longer extant) is addressed to Alasinga. In the Life (first edition, volume 2, pages 396-97), however, it is rightly addressed to Swami Abhayananda. Miss Hamlen made two copies-at Mrs. Bull's behest-a complete copy, of which the last part is missing, and a partial copy, from which the version published in the Com¬plete Works has been taken. Neither copy as found today bears a salutation, but its contents make it certain that the letter was addressed to Abhayananda, not Alasinga.

I received your letter duly (Swamiji wrote) and many thanks to you for it. Perhaps you forget that we have no organization nor want to build any. Each one is quite independent to teach quite free to preach whatever he or she likes, you need not take the least notice who helps you or not, who comes or goes, you do your work whenever you like and in whatever manner you choose, if you have the spirit with in you will never fail to attract others.

The Theosophists' method cannot be ours, for the very simple reason that they are an organized sect-we are not. Nobody is bound to take any teaching from anybody unless he or she likes, nor have I any objections to my pupils going to other persons or societies to learn the truth. Lord bless them all, and so far as I know I teach if they find something beyond and better in any society or organization or person I am only too glad that they should go. Individuality is my motto; I have no ambition beyond training individuals up. I think you can learn much from the Chickering Hall lectures of Mr. Wright, and moreover they being well-to-do people can help you in your material needs a good deal. I am sure they will appreciate you and your efforts very much and as they are nearly in the same line of thought and most probably much more competent than me to express it, I am sure you will find immense help from them. As for me, I again repeat-I form no sect, nor organization-I know very little and that little I teach without reserve. Where I am ignorant I confess it as such and never never am I so glad as when I find people being helped by Theosophists or Christians or Mohammedans or anybody in the world. I am a Sanyasi, as such I hold myself as a servant not as a master in this world. Yet if people love me, they are welcome, if they hate they are also very welcome.

Each one will have to save himself. Each one to do his own work. I seek no help, I reject none (seek and none were underscored three times]; nor have I any right in the world to be helped. Whosoever has helped me or will help, it will be their mercy to me, not my right, and as such I am eternally grateful.

I am very sorry your circumstances are so bad-but you know, ma chere fille, I am in a worse plight. In this country (England] I have everything to spend and nothing to gain, the rooms in London alone cost me 3 pounds a week, then many other necessities. To whom shall I complain? It is my own Karma that will have to be worked out, and when I became a Sanyasi I consciously took the step, knowing that perhaps this body will have to die of starvation. What of that? A Sanyasi must never complain. In this world he is a traveller. Come what may, a blessing on all. I am so sorry I can not send you any help from here. I do not know what to advise you. Perhaps the best thing for you will be to identify yourself with some rich organized body as the Theosophists etc. I am a beggar, my friends are poor. I love the poor. I welcome poverty. I am glad that I sometimes have to starve. I ask help of none. What is the use? Truth will preach itself it will not die for the want of the helping hand of me!! "Making happiness and misery the same, making success or failure the same, fight thou on"-Gita. It is that eternal love, unruffled equanimity under all circumstances and above all perfect freedom from jealousy or animosity that will tell that alone will tell- nothing else. That you do not succeed, is your fault, because you can not attract, because you can not throw out that infinite power of love-who else to blame? I taught you the little that I know, I helped you with half a loaf so long I had one, but I am very sorry I have none now. There is only one friend in all England who gives me food and shelter when I am in need. I am sorry I have no more power to help you. I will be only too glad if any society takes you by the hands, you have talents, and you can speak well. The Theosophists especially will be too glad. [The remainder is missing.]

(As Swamiji reminded Abhayananda, he had done for her what he could, when he could. "Do you know," Kripananda would write to Mrs. Bull on December 22, 1895, "that for several months [Abhayananda] was supported from the few savings [Swamiji] left here for that purpose? It is also a fact [learned from her own letters)* that the Vedanta Society paid Abhayananda's rent and some expenses. Swamiji unobtrusively looked after his own as well as he could. Indeed, at one time he took French lessons from Abhayananda-then, perhaps; still Mme Marie Louise-in order to keep her from starving. but this is by the way.)_x000d_ * Swami Abhayananda's available letters are to be found among the papers of Mrs. Ole Bull.

Receiving Abhayananda's letter of November 22, Mrs. Bull, soothing friend to Swamiji's high-strung disciples, invited her to Cambridge for a few days to talk things over. Swami Abhayananda took the train from New York on November 26 in a happy mood; two days earlier she had delivered a successful lecture before the Philosophical Society of Brooklyn. "I was warmly received," she wrote in her reply to Mrs. Bull's invitation, "warmly applauded and I answered my critics in a manner that secured the verdict of the audience in my favor.

After Swamiji's return to New York in December, Abhayananda made a short and formal call upon him "to pay her respects" ("What nonsense!" Kripananda remarked) and then stayed strictly away from his classes. After a time, Swamiji, together with Miss Waldo, went to see her in her little house on the crooked street in Greenwich Village in order to smooth out whatever may then have been have difficulty.** How far he succeeded is not clear from the available evidence._x000d_ ** Greenwich Village, an area in the southwest part of New York City, had been actually a village before the city was laid out in a gridiron street plan, in which it then formed a sort of tangle. It was a maze of narrow, twisting streets, which, according to an 1897 account, "lead everywhere and nowhere and wander about in the most irregular ways." In the 1890s Greenwich Village was no longer inhabited by the respectable and sturdy gentry of its earlier days, but neither was it yet the bailiwick of rebel artists and writers. It was a fairly poor district of Irish and Italian immigrants. The houses were on the whole dilapidated, and the rents low. Waverly Place was a crooked, self-crossing street, twisting between Christopher and West Tenth streets. Without Miss Waldo's company, Swamiji would surely have become completely lost trying to find Abhayananda's house.

But be that as it may, it is clear enough that Swami Kripananda and Swami Abhayananda had done everything in their power to propagate Swamiji's message while he was away, and, having come straight from weeks of close association with him at Thousand Island Park, their power could not have been negligible. If in the course of their work they each ignited even one person, turning his or her life toward a spiritual ideal, then their work that autumn was successful. It does not appear to have been the case, however, that they "suc¬ceeded in forming new centres . . . At Buffalo, N.Y.; Detroit, Mich.; and other cities of the Union. Indeed, as far as can be judged, there was no outward growth of the Vedanta movement during Swamiji's absence. The New York Society had held weekly class meetings and had survived, but that seems to have been all.

Before starting his work, Swamiji had the weekend to recover from his days of illness at sea and to find his land legs once again. We do not know in any detail how he spent Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and most of Monday, but we do know that aside from being interviewed by a reporter from the New York World, one of the first things he did upon his arrival in the city, which he found "very dirty and miserable" after "the clean and beautiful cities of Europe, was to visit several of his friends. He called, for instance, on the newly wed Mr. and Mrs. Francis Leggett, delivering to these "birds of paradise" packages that Josephine MacLeod had sent in his care from England. "They are as usual very kind," he wrote to Miss MacLeod on Sunday, December 8, and in this same letter he mentioned others on whom he had paid calls. "Saw Mrs. And, Mr. Salomon and other friends. By chance met Mrs. Peak [Peake] at Mrs. Gurnsey's but yet have no news of Mrs. Rothlinburger [Dora Roethlesberger].

On his way to the Guernseys' he probably walked up Fifth Avenue in the bracing December air. From Thirty-ninth to Forty-Fourth Street the Avenue would have been serenely quiet on the weekend, its stone mansions and its churches facing a street empty of all but an occasional brougham or hansom cab drawn by smartly trotting horses. He would have passed the massive, ivy-covered granite wall of the Croton Reservoir and, across the street, the Temple Emanu-El with its twin Moorish towers, and further along a rural meat market and a placid country saloon. This was still the most composed of neighborhoods, but even here one could sense the vitality and exhilaration of a growing world metropolis in which new ideas were continually bubbling over.

As soon as possible Swamiji began his classes, eager, it would seem, to plunge into this second season of his New York work. From Kripananda's letter of December 10 to Mrs. Bull, we learn that his opening class was held on the evening of Monday, the ninth.

The Swami began his work last evening with a lecture [Kripananda wrote], in which he gave a general idea of the various methods of Yoga. He was all Bhakti. The two rooms were crowded, and the movement promises to assume this year immense proportions. Enclosed I send you the dates of the various Yoga classes. Provided the means will be forthcoming, the Swami intends to give free Sunday lectures in a larger Hall.

Unfortunately, the list of classes and their dates is lost, but from a letter Kripananda had written to Mrs. Bull on November 19 we learn something of Swamiji's plans for his coming work:

I expect to see the Swami on or about the first of December. In a letter written to Miss Waldo, he gives the subjects of the discourses he proposes to have in his classes. Among the topics are:Prana and its modifications; Mind its functions and control; the chief Yoga methods, the Upanishads etc.

Concurrently, the task of cooking fell on Sarah Ellen Waldo. As Sister Devamata (Laura Glenn in the 1890s) tells the story in her "Memories of India and Indians," the day following Swamiji's arrival (actually, it was probably not until after the classes had started) he said to Miss Waldo, "The food here seems so unclean, would it be possible for you to cook for me?" She was, of course, delighted.

She went at once to the landlady [Devamata writes] and obtained permission to use the kitchen. Then, from her own store, she gathered cooking utensils and groceries. These she carried with her on the following morning. She lived at the far end of Brooklyn. The only means of transportation was a jogging horse-car, and it required two hours to reach the Swami's lodging at 38th [39th] Street in New York. [Actually, cable cars ran across the Brooklyn Bridge at intervals of one minute (fare, three cents). But a jogging horse-car could also have been involved in the trip from the New York terminal of the Bridge to West Thirty-ninth Street, and in any event, the daily journey would have been an arduous one.] Undaunted, every morning found her on her way at eight o'clock or earlier; and at nine or ten at night, she was on her way home again.

Miss Waldo evidently did things with a vigor that swept all before it, and the name "Haridasi" (Servant of the Lord), which Swamiji had given (or was to give) her, seems to have become her well. "[She] moved about doing everything," Devamata writes. "Her service was continuous and untiring. She cooked, edited, cleaned, and took dictation, taught and managed, read proof and saw visitors."

As mentioned earlier, there is no known evidence that Miss Waldo had held Vedanta classes during Swamiji's absence from New York in 1895. The weekly classes of the Vedanta Society had been held by either Swami Abhayananda or Swami Kripananda; nor did Swamiji authorize Miss Waldo to lecture and hold classes until October of 1896, as is clear from a letter he wrote to her at that time. But however that may be, Ellen Waldo was close to him and was among those who best understood his teaching. It was, indeed, because of her ability to grasp his thought so well that he was to entrust her with the final editing of his lectures and class talks. It was she also whom he felt free to scold. "One morning the Swami found Miss Waldo in tears," Sister Devamata relates. " `What is the matter, Ellen?' he asked anxiously. `Has anything happened? ‘I seem unable to please you,' she replied. ‘Even when others annoy you, you scold me for it.' The Swami said quickly: `I do not know those people well enough to scold them. I cannot rebuke them, so I come to you. Whom can I scold if I cannot scold my own?’ Needless to say, Miss Waldo no longer felt his scoldings to be a cause of sorrow; on the contrary, they were thenceforth "a proof of nearness."

Almost at once after the start of Swamiji's classes another change took place in the "household": there appeared on the scene, out of the blue, Josiah John Goodwin-the young man whose work for Swamiji was to be of incalculable importance to the Vedanta movement. On December 12 the officers of the Society had inserted the following want ad in both the Herald and the World:

Wanted-A rapid shorthand writer to take down lectures for several hours a week. Apply at 228 West 39th Street.

Mr. Goodwin must have applied immediately and have been immediately engaged, for those three momentous lines appeared in the papers only once.

Swamiji's impact upon the young Goodwin was profound and evidently immediate. "The Swami told him many incidents of his past life, and this created such a moral revolution in him," the Life relates, "that henceforth his whole life was changed. Thus Swamiji sometimes startled a half-sleep soul into wakefulness. But it was also, perhaps, his infinite compassion and understanding that attracted Goodwin. "He was was as simple as a child," we learn from Mr. Gupta, "and ' wonderfully responsive to the slightest show of kindness." Would he not, then, be ready to fall at the feet of one who had ' no word of condemnation, but who offered unconditioned love? Fall at Swamiji's feet is, figuratively, what Josiah Goodwin did.Later he spoke of his meeting with Swamiji to Swami Saradananda. "Being poor from childhood, I have gone many places trying to make a living. I have hobnobbed with all kinds of people; they gave me work and a salary, but no one gave me his heart's love. Then in America I met Swami Vivekananda then alone could I understand what love was. So, income or no income, I am caught! Never have I found such a noble being as Swami Vivekananda. One is drawn to him as if to one's very own.

Goodwin forthwith plunged heart and soul into the Vedanta movement. It is not true, however, as has often been said (in Josephine MacLeod's reminiscences, for instance) that he refused' to accept a salary. Surely if it had been possible for him to work without pay, he would have done so. But it was not possible. When, in connection with a difficulty that will be touched upon in a later chapter, Miss Mary Phillips was to remind him that the members had subscribed his salary among themselves, he replied: "I am a poor man. For the sake of my part in the Vedanta movement, I wish I were not, but I am, and I am not ashamed of it. I simply had to take salary for my work in New York. The salary, however, was no doubt a small one, possibly barely enough to cover his expenses. Several months earlier-in August of 1896-he had written to Mrs. Bull: "If I am to work for the Vedanta and my wishes are all that way: I think I may say my heart is thoroughly in the work-I am afraid I shall have to accept bare living, but beyond that I would not consent to any arrangement.

From the beginning, "he would work day and night over the lectures" the Life tells us, "taking them down stenographically and then typewriting them, all in the same day. Even if he took down only the advanced morning class, this was in itself a feat, for, as Kripananda wrote in reference to Swamiji's karma yoga class, "These lectures are very long if taken down verbatim. To keep pace with Swamiji was to have little time to spare, and if there had been an unoccupied room in the same lodging house, Goodwin most probably would have taken it. As it was, he took a room almost directly across the street at 247 West Thirty-ninth, and it was undoubtedly there that he did his typing, going from the morning class to his typewriter and back again to the evening class, or first perhaps to dinner at Swamiji's table.

To sit at Swamiji's table was something Kripananda nowadays refused to do. "I thought it most practicable to live on my own resources and not to be supported by the Swami," he was to write to Mrs. Bull on December 20. "I occupy a small Garrett [sic] in the same house for which I pay two dollars a week, and as to my meals, I take once or twice a day a lunch outside, though the Swami has his meals cooked at home. Of course, the Swami insisted upon my sharing his meals with him, but I found it best to live for myself._x000d_ To tell you the truth-entre nous [he continued]-I am much tired of that committee of petticoats, which estranges me more and more from the Swami. They dispose of everything, even the money which comes in as contributions in the classes. They even grudge me, the Swami's Sanyasin, a copy of the Swami's lectures, of which there are furnished several transcripts by the shorthand man [Goodwin], and for which they have no special use. It is for this reason that I am anxious to get a, type-writer of my own, so as not to have to ask their favor._x000d_ Of this "committee of petticoats'' we shall say more later. Suffice it at present to note that with classes twice a day, a committee running everything, Miss Waldo everywhere, people , coming and going, temperaments following their own course, and Swamiji an immense and dynamic presence around whom everything revolved-with all this going on, things were abustle and aglow with astonishing life behind the drab front of 228 West Thirty-ninth Street.

One source of information regarding Swamiji's classes of this season is to be found in an article in the New York Herald of January 19, 1896, written by a reporter who had attended a class on karma yoga. From his very brief and none too astute description of this class ("Its theme was: ‘That which ye sow ye reap, whether of good or evil' "), one suspects that he attended it during December when Swamiji had explained the workings of karma. But however that may be, there was included in this article a summary of Swamiji's teachings on the four yogas, taken, it would appear, from a written statement. The paragraph in question was subheaded "The Doctrine of the Swami" and read:

The following is a brief sketch of the Swami's funda¬mental teachings:_x000d_ _x000d_ "Every man must develop according to his own nature. As every science has its methods so has every religion. Methods of attaining the end of our religion are called Yoga, and the different forms of Yoga that we teach are adapted to the different natures and temperaments of men. We classify them in the following way, under four heads:_x000d_ _x000d_ ( I ) Karma Yoga-The manner in which a man realizes his own divinity through works and duty._x000d_ _x000d_ (2) Bhakti Yoga-The realization of a divinity through devotion to and love of a personal God._x000d_ _x000d_ (3) Rajah Yoga-The realization of divinity through control of mind._x000d_ _x000d_ (4) Gnana Yoga-The realization of man's own divinity through knowledge.

"These are all different roads leading to the same center-God. Indeed, the varieties of religious belief are an advantage, since all faiths are good, so far as they encourage man to religious life. The more sects there are the more opportunities there are for making successful appeals to the divine instinct in all men."

In Swamiji's class talks on each of the four yogas he adapted the most important paths of spiritual life, as they had been known to the sages of India and as he himself knew them, to the requirements of the modern mind, emphasizing again and again the necessity for the tests of reason and experience, for initiative, strength, and courage, for practice and realization at every step of the way. He did not value any one method above another; each, if followed earnestly and practiced as¬siduously, would result in "the attenuating of the lower self, so that the real higher Self may shine forth. While the best path of all was, to his mind, a combination of all four equally perfected, he taught each singly and as complete in itself. He did not in his general teachings recommend any special way; nor did he ask any man or woman to retreat from the world as a necessary means of attaining the highest goal. He did not condemn the world as such, nor did he ignore it as unreal; rather, he deified it, transfigured it: Indeed, when one con¬siders Swamiji's teachings as a whole during this second season in New York; one finds him marking out a way for the active modern man and woman such as had never been defined before. His teachings were more than the orthodox philosophies of Vedanta and Yoga put into simple and modern language and infused with new power. True, he did indeed infuse them with a tremendous power, but he also gave them a new turn, such as made them fully relevant to and redemptive of an age whose ways and needs were not at all the ways and needs of any previous age on earth and which called for a new mode of spiritual struggle. Keenly aware of this need, he was marking out a new path and opening it to all mankind.

In the following chapter we shall try very briefly and in small measure to discuss Swamiji’s new path. It is enough to say here that his great mind, so vast in scope, so transcendent in quality-mind that can be called more divine than human -must have been facing problems and producing solutions which involved the destiny of all men and women for centuries ahead. He was to give full utterance to those solutions during the coming year, such as he had not given before. Although there are no incontestable records of the classes he held 'in New York during the spring of 1895, we can assume that while these may not have been different in essence from those he was to hold in the winter of 1895-96, they were, in a sense, preliminary to them and did not constitute so complete and detailed a presentation of his teachings. The very fact that he had felt the need to return to New York would indicate that he had more to say and to do than he had already said and done. The foundation, however, had been laid in the spring of 1895, and it had by no means disappeared.

The Vedanta Society, which he had founded in November of 1894, was still intact, and those who had drawn close to him were still eager to serve him. Aside from the two to whom he had given sannyasa, there were Miss Ellen Waldo, Miss Mary Phillips, Dr. Edward G. Day, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Goodyear, Mr. and Mrs. Francis Leggett, Miss Josephine MacLeod (who, although at the time abroad, was ready to give what support she could), Miss Emma Thursby, and, on her visits to New York, Mrs. Ole Bull. This is to say nothing of the many now mostly anonymous people who had come to his classes in the spring of 1895 and who had been waiting for his return. Then, too, he had close friends and loyal supporters in New York who belonged in a category somewhere between those who worked actively for the Vedanta movement and those who simply listened to him speak. Such may have been the New York attorney Myron H. Phelps, whose name one now and then reads in connection with Swamiji but of whom little more is known. A good majority of all these people must have flocked to his classes as soon as he reopened them in December of 1895.

According to Kripananda, the two parlor rooms could together hold 150 people, but this may have been an over estimate. Writing of this period, Miss Waldo was to recall that all the classes "were attended by large numbers to the full capacity of the rooms, and the highest figure we have for the class attendance is 120. At first the attendance was generally under 100; yet both rooms, though not full, were always needed-even during the days just before Christmas. "In spite of the holiday engagements," Kripananda wrote to Mrs. Bull on December 22, "people come in great numbers to the classes and always delight in hearing the Swami. (After the first week in January, when Swamiji began giving public lectures, the class attendance would grow. "The classes are constantly increasing," Kripananda was to write on January 14. "We have now in the average from 70 to 80 people. And in February Swamiji would write to Sturdy, "The general attendance varies between 70 and 120.

But if the attendance at Swamiji's classes was relatively small, it was, in a sense, selective. "I could have thousands at my lectures if I wanted them," he remarked in New York to a disciple who had expressed regret that his sublime teachings had no larger following. "It is the sincere student who will help to make this work a success and not merely the large audiences. If I succeed in my whole life to help one man to reach freedom, I shall feel that my labours have not been in vain, but quite successful. Again, he was to say during the course of a bhakti yoga class, “Perhaps only half a dozen men and women will follow me in all my life, but they will be real men and women, pure and sincere, and I do not want a crowd. What can crowds do? The history of the world was made by a few dozens, whom you can count on your fingers, and the rest were a rabble.

Sincerity was the only requirement for regular attendance at Swamiji's Classes, and aside from the automatic selection that took place (either one was sincere to start with, shortly became sincere, or dropped away) there were no prerequisites. All kinds came, many to both morning and evening classes, avidly drinking in every word-the women in long sweeping skirts, balloon sleeves, furs, and hats topheavy with flowers, fruit, feathers, and ribbons, the men in dark suits, ulsters, derbies and spats; but some, perhaps most, were plain and variously unfashionable. From Sister Devamata we learn something of these people. Unfortunately, by the time she wrote about the first and second seasons of Swamiji's New York work the two years had become somewhat confused in her memory, but while this robs her reminiscences of their value as a historical account, their several parts, when unscrambled, present us with clear, easily placed pictures of his life in New York, such as one cannot find elsewhere.

The following paragraphs, for instance, apply essentially to the second season. She wrote:_x000d_ It was a heterogeneous gathering at the classes in those shabby lodgings-old and young, rich and poor, wise and foolish; stingy ones who dropped a button in the collection basket, and more generous ones, who gave a dollar bill or even two. We all met day after day and became friends without words or association. Some of us never missed a meeting. We followed the course on Bhakti-Yoga and the course on Jnana-Yoga. We walked simultaneously along the paths of Raja-Yoga and Karma ¬Yoga. We were almost sorry that there were only four Yogas. We would have liked six or eight, that the number of classes might be multiplied. . . ._x000d_ The faithful group that followed the Swami wherever he spoke were as relentless as they were earnest. If he suggested tentatively omitting a class because of a holiday or for some other reason, there was a loud protest always. This one had come to New York specially for the teaching and wished to get all she could; another was leaving town soon and was unwilling to lose a single opportunity of hearing the Swami. They gave him no respite. He taught early and late. Among the most eager were a number of teachers, each with a blank book in hand; and the Swami's words were punctuated by the tap of their pencils taking rapid notes. Not a sentence went unrecorded; and I am sure that if, later, anyone had made the circuit of the New York Centres of New Thought, Metaphysics, or Divine Science, they would have heard everywhere Vedanta and Yoga in more or less diluted form.

Sister Devamata was, perhaps, too close to Swamiji's classes to be able to judge how the gathering might appear to a disinterested stranger, but we have also the impression of one who visited the class solely to observe it. In the Herald article quoted above, the reporter wrote of the "well-dressed audience of intellectual appearance." He picked out among the group of "between fifty and a hundred persons," not religious teachers avidly taking notes, but "doctors and lawyers, professional men and society ladies." And one could surely find scattered here and there people known to the world at large. In addition to Emma Thursby, who had sung before kings and been feted on both continents, there would be Antoinette Sterling, recently come from London, where she had been the most famous ballad singer of the 1880s. One might find the writers Mary Mapes Dodge and Kate Douglas Wiggin, both of whom took an active interest in Swamiji's work, and the popular poetess Ella Wheeler Wilcox, who, with her husband, always found in his classes "the same uplifted sense of soul and enlarged g vision. Again, among the teachers and students of metaphysics there might be the aristocratic Mrs. May Banks-Stacey, one of the founders of the Rosicrucian Order in the United States and Matre of the Grand Lodge of America, who is said to have "studied the mysteries of Hindoo philosophy under Swami Vivekananda. And now and then one would perhaps see the great scientist, Nikola Tesla, who was to take time off from his continuous work to attend Swamiji's public lectures.

From the same newspaper report we learn that Swamiji, in his ochre robe, sat between the two parlor rooms; the students, rich and poor, famous and unknown, grouped on either side of him. Some may have sat on sofas or divans upholstered in plush or horsehair, others on straight-backed chairs . rented or borrowed for the purpose. (Earlier in the year many of Swamiji's students in both New York and London-had sat, perforce, on the floor, and this may also have been so at Thirty-Ninth Street.) But wherever and however Swamiji's listeners sat, they were absorbed not only in his words, but in Swamiji himself. "He is possessed of a large amount of personal magnetism," the Herald reporter wrote in the same article. "One has but to glance at the grave, attentive faces of the men and women who attend his classes to be convinced that it is not the man's subject alone that attracts and holds his disciples. . . . Following the lecture or instruction, the Swami held an informal reception, and the magnetism of the man was shown by the eager manner in which those who had been listening to him hastened to shake hands or begged the favor of an introduction.

It was, indeed, difficult to distinguish Swamiji from his message. Like all great prophets, he was his message, the embodiment of it, and almost all who were drawn to the one seem to have been drawn to the other also. At first, some had come to him simply as to one more religious teacher, including him in their rounds of incessant lecture-going. "We were insatiable knowledge-seekers," Devamata writes of herself and her friends, referring now to the spring of 1895. "We did not limit ourselves to any one doctrine or scripture. We went to one lecture in the morning, a second one in the afternoon, and sometimes to a third in the evening. Philosophy, metaphysics, astrology, each had its turn. Yet, although we seemed to scatter our interest, our real loyalty belonged to the Swami. We recognized in him a power that no other teacher pos¬sessed. It was he alone who was shaping our thought and conviction.

Soon Devamata (then Laura Glenn) and her friends no longer even seemed to scatter their interest. "Through the late winter and spring of 1895," she writes (meaning, as the context makes clear, the winter of 1895-1896), "the work-carried on without the intermittence of the earlier teaching-gained tremendous momentum and fervor. We divided our interest no longer. It was wholly focussed on the message the Swami had to give. That had become the foundation of our daily living, the stimulus that urged us onward. It is little wonder that it was so. Speaking of Swamiji's power to revolutionize the world, Swami Turiyananda once said, "[He] used to tell us, `Do you think I only lecture? I know I give tangible, living spirituality to them, and they know they receive it.' In New York Swamiji was lecturing to a class. Oh, the tremendous effect of it! K. [Swami Abhedananda] said that while listening to the lecture he felt as if some force was drawing the Kundalini up, as at the time of meditation. (The reference here was to a class held in New York in 1900, but in 1895 and 1896 Swamiji's power was no less.)

To be stirred to one's depths was not always a comfortable experience. Even Laura Glenn, who attended all his New York classes through two seasons, felt so shy in his presence that she never came "in close personal touch with him." "There seemed," she wrote, "to be an intangible barrier. Some people reacted with more than shyness. In the Life an unidentified disciple is quoted as having said, "It would be impossible for me to describe the overwhelming force of Swamiji's presence. He could rivet attention upon himself: and when he spoke in all seriousness and intensity though it seems wellnigh incredible-there were some among his hearers who were literally exhausted. The subtlety of his thought and arguments swept them off their feet. In one case, I know of a man who was forced to rest in bed for three days as the result of a nervous shock received by a discussion with the Swami. His personality was at once awe-inspiring and sublime. He had the faculty of literally annihilating one if he so chose.

But while Swamiji's personality alarmed some and caused others to take to their beds, it attracted far more, for his extraordinary power was penetrated through and through with a consummate benevolence and simplicity. "Those who feared to be caught in the current of this great power were but few " Sister Christine wrote;' "the others by thousands were drawn with the irresistible force, even as iron filings to a magnet. He had the power of attraction so great, that those who came near him, men and women alike, even children, fell under the magic spell he cast and, one might add, even animals. "Even my dog-an Irish setter-felt this," Sister Devamata wrote. "He would stand perfectly still and a quiver would run through his body whenever Swamiji would lay his hand on his head and tell him he was a true Yogi.

Again in Sturdy's Karma—Yoga one hears Swamiji on the subject of "helping the world." The following passage differs in some respects from the parallel passage in volumes one and five of the Complete Works, notably in its greater length, and it is perhaps as close as we can come to what was actually said:

"Those whose whole soul is gone into the Self, whose desires are confined in the Self, who have ever become associated with the Self, for them there is no work." A ship once passed over a mountain of magnet and all the bolts and bars were drawn out, and it went to pieces. It is in ignorance that all struggles remain, because we are alt really Atheists. Real Theists can never work. We are all Atheists more or less; we do not see God, believe in Him. He is G-O-D to us, and nothing more. There are moments when we think He is near, but then we fall down again. When you see Him, who struggles for whom? Help the Lord! There is a proverb in our language, "Shall we teach the Architect of the Universe how to build?" So those are the highest of mankind who do not work. The next time you use these silly phrases of the world, and how we must all help God, do this, and do that for Him, remember this. Do not think it; it is too selfish. All the work you do is subjective, for your own benefit. God has not fallen into a ditch for you and me to help Him out by building a hospital or something of that sort. He allows you to work. He allows you to exercise in this great gymnasium, not to help Him, but to help yourself. Do you think even an ant will die for want of your help? Most arrant blasphemy! Do you think you can help the least thing in this universe? You cannot. You only help yourself in this gymnasium of the Lord. He allows you to work, and it is in order to help yourself. This is the attitude of work. If you work in this way you will never be attached. If you always remember that it is a privilege which has been given to you. The world does not need you at all. This world goes on. Millions of men and women in this world think . . . they are great ones, and when they die they are like a drop in the ocean; nobody thinks of them. God is living infinitely. . . . Blessed are we that we are given the privilege, allowed the great privilege of working for Him, not helping Him.

As for the dates of the eight karma yoga classes, Swamiji almost certainly held them on the Friday mornings and evenings of December 13 and 20, and January 3 and 10. Of the two outside dates we can be positive: we know that the class "Each Is Great in His Own Place" was held on Friday, December 13, it having been published in the Brahmanadin of February 1 1896, together with information regarding its date; further, as mentioned earlier, a dated transcript of the class "Freedom" has recently come to light, leaving no doubt that it was held on the morning of Friday, January.10

In Swamiji's next beginners’ jnana yoga class (entitled in the Complete Works "Steps to Realisation" and in Prabuddha Bharata [1897], where it was first published, "Sadhanas or Preparations") he continued with the further prerequisites of jnana yoga: the six steps of sensory and mental control; intense desire for freedom; and discrimination between the Real and the unreal. Their purpose was not, as might be thought in connection with this path and in connection with Swamiji's emphasis on reason, to clarify the intellect as such but rather to deepen and purify the heart, for, as he said, "the pure heart is the best mirror for the reflection of truth." By "heart" in this context Swamiji did not, of course, mean the devotional love of the bhakta but the unclouded knowledge of the jnani ¬the insight into the underlying meaning of things and the selfless, reverential, and uncompromising response that such insight evokes. "These preparations will make us pure and light," he said. "Bondages will fall off by themselves, and we shall be buoyed up beyond this plane of sense-perception to which we are tied down." And there was a grand ending to this class: "Every being that is in the universe has the potentiality of transcending the senses; even the little worm will one day transcend the senses and reach God. No life will be a failure; there is no such thing as failure in the universe. A hundred times man will hurt himself, a thousand times he will tumble, but in the end he will realise that he is God. . . . No one will be lost.

Swamiji's work' in New York this second season did not consist alone in delivering his message, but in providing the means by which it would be perpetuated after he had left America. His primary move in this direction was to train a permanent body of workers-a process he had begun, as we have seen earlier, by taking several of his disciples to a summer retreat at Thousand Island Park to finish their training in yoga and bhakti and jnana. "Then they will be able to help carry the work on, he had written to Alasinga on May 6 of 1895.

But aside from this, it was, he knew, essential for him to establish an organization of some sort through which those he had trained could function, and without which, as he had written to Mrs. Bull in March of 1895, "nothing could be done." To this end, he had wanted for some time to give the secular side of his work a definite form. In the summer of 1895, he had written to Alasinga from Thousand Island Park, "Here [in America] I have already got a respectable following. Next year I will organise it on a working basis, and then the work will be carried on. The time was now ripe for this organization to take shape.

For one thing, it was no longer essential, as it had been the previous season, for him to keep the secular aspect of his work in his own hands and out of the hands of those who wanted him to cultivate "the right sort of New Yorkers" and whose well-meaning help, as he had said, "frightened" him. He had by now convinced his friends and supporters that his own method of work, unconventional, uncompromising, and fearless, would not spell disaster either to himself or to his mission. Even Mrs. Bull no longer counseled him from Cambridge to "keep society in good humor." She now simply watched, with bated breath perhaps, but for the time being in silence, wisely concluding, no doubt, that there was no other course possible. "I always wish to be of help to his work, however and wherever he determines to direct it himself," she wrote to Kripananda toward the end of December 1895 and added with motherly resignation, "He is gaining in experience.

As has been seen in chapter one, the Society as it existed prior to this time had been nebulous and largely ineffectual. Its officers still untrained and uncomprehending of Swamiji's method of work, had had very little voice in the management of his affairs and left little trace behind them. It was, in fact, long thought by Swamiji's biographers that the Vedanta Society of New York did not come into existence until the end of February of 1896-a date based on a misleading sentence in one of Kripananda's news-letters to the Brahmavadin. But unobtrusive as the Society was in 1895, we can say definitely, on the basis of information that has come to light, that it did exist.

Well aware at an early date of the need for at least a skeletal organization, Swamiji had founded the Society in November of 1894, writing at the end of that month to Alasinga, "I have started [an organisation] already in New York and the Vice President will soon write to you. Keep correspondence with them. Soon I hope to get up a few in other places.

In connection with this new born Society (or parallel to it, or perhaps for a time identical with it) was something called a "Temple Universal" What this was is not clear from any available records. We know that when Swamiji was in Baltimore in October of 1894, he was much interested in a project to found an "international university." According to the Reverend Hiram Vrooman, his host in Baltimore, this university was "one of Mr. Vivecananda's pet ideas." "[It] has the full sympathy of myself and my brothers," Mr. Vrooman went on, "and also a number of gentlemen of wealth and position, including several religions. Among its promoters are members of the Roman Catholic and Hebrew religions. The idea of the university is education in general religion... One of Mr. Vivecananda's ideas in the establishing of the university is that it may serve to educate a superior kind of missionary for work in India.... I can say relative to the university that it is to be located near Boston, and that a meeting to give it definite shape will be held soon. Mr. Vivecananda will not leave this country until it is established.

Nothing seems to have come of this idea of an international university, but out of it may have evolved Swamiji's idea for a "Temple Universal." The Indian Mirror of January 31, 1895 writes of this latter project as though it were well on its way. Under the heading "News and Notes" one reads the following:_x000d_ We learn that an organisation named `Temple Universal' has been started by Swami Vivekananda in America. Mr. Edward G. Day, M.D., the Vice-President of the Association, writing to a friend here says: "The expressed object of the organisation is to help the spiritual growth of man by the aid of all forms of religion which are recognised as so many paths, leading to the same goal." So the Swami's stay in America will be of permanent good to both India and America. He means starting a few more societies, like the above, in other cities. Mr. Day further says: "The Swami is highly esteemed in our midst, and earnest seekers after truth cluster round him. He will shed a great light on the West, and will lead many to a more perfect knowledge of God, and a closer communion with him.

The news rapidly spread. On February 7, 1895, Mr. Sarat Chandra (Chakravarty?) and Swami Subodhananda wrote a joint letter to Mr. Lala Badri Shah, a friend of Swamiji's in Almora: "Swami Vivekananda has founded a society for a place of worship there at America. The place is called the Temple Universal & men of all creeds can use it to preach their own faith. Again on August 22, 1895, the Indian Mirror reported:_x000d_ ....The Swami has established in every principal town in the United States a branch of his new association, called `Temple Universal'.

Swamiji did not altogether give up the idea of building a temple in the West. In a heretofore unpublished portion of a letter dated in the Complete Works March 1896 he was to write to Alasinga, "That Temple Universal I have given up. I have a new name, the "Mumukshu" ["Desire for Liberation"]. . . . Patience, patience. Next year I expect to build a temple in New York and then the Lord knows. But Swamiji was not to return the following year to America; nor, as far as it is known at present, did he again mention building a temple in New York. Thus, unless more information comes to light, we cannot really know what he had in mind. (Perhaps, as in the temple he envisioned for Madras, OM was to be the all inclusive symbol of veneration, and perhaps mumukshu was to be recognized as the unifying theme of and power behind all religious paths. But whatever Swamiji's idea may have been, the time was not ripe for its realization.)

Although the Temple Universal proposed at the end of 1894 or beginning of 1895 did not take tangible form, the Society that Swamiji founded at that period did not disband. Once or twice after he had left America for England in August of 1895, we hear, if not the voice of the society itself, the reverberation of its activities, or lack of them. As we have seen, for instance, its officers had managed to incense Swami Abhayananda by not attending her lectures. On the more positive side, it had paid her rent during the summer of 1895 and "what [she] had to spend in postage stamps and carfare for the propaganda. The Society again gave evidence of its existence in November: at the classes Swami Kripananda was then holding at 228 West Thirty-ninth Street, it was the Society's treasurer who took up the collection. "I have not made one cent," Kripananda wrote on December 10 to Mrs. Bull in reply to her inquiry. "The small collection that was taken up in the classes were taken by the Treasurer Mr. Goodyear. He offered me several times assistance, and so did Miss Waldo. But I did not accept anything as I had still some means; I paid all the time my own rent, until last week when the two rooms were engaged for the Swami and myself.We need no further evidence to show that the Society existed throughout 1895. An inadequate organization it undoubtedly had been; nevertheless, it was a society and thought of itself as such.*_x000d_ * It was not until October of 1898, when Swamiji was in India, that the New York Vedanta Society was (cont.) incorporated and registered under the laws of the State of New York, with Mr. Francis Leggett as its president, and not until the spring of 1900, when Swamiji was in California, that the trustees of the Society opened a membership roll. The Society's first Constitution, drawn up by Swami Abhedananda in 1898, when many of the first officers were still active, read: "The Vedanta Society of the City of New York was founded by Swami Vivekananda in 1894, and incorporated according to the Laws of the State of New York by Swami Abhedananda on October 28, 1898." (See Swami Abhedananda, Complete Works, 10: 67; Sister Shivani, Swami Abhedananda in America [Calcutta: Ramakrishna Vedanta Math], pages 289, 291.)_x000d_ _x000d_ It may also be noted here that in 1899 the stationery of the New York Vedanta Society bore the letterhead:_x000d_ _x000d_ Vedanta Society_x000d_ Office and Library 146 E 55th Street _x000d_ Established-1894. Incorporated--1898 _x000d_ _x000d_ Any official records relevant to the first years of the Society were very probably destroyed by fire-if they existed at all. (See Sister Shivani, op. cit., page x.)

It should be mentioned here that while the Society had officers from the start and, to judge from Kripananda's description (see chapter one), trustees and at least one committee, it had no formal membership outside this small group of officiaries, nor was it to have one for several years. It had what one might call sympathizers, but no members in the usual sense. This was as Swamiji wanted, for while he knew that the work of spreading his teachings and, at the same time, of keeping them pure and intact required an organization, the last thing he wanted was to create a membership that would savor in any way of exclusiveness. It has been more or less taken for granted by Swamiji's biographers that the New York Vedanta Society, at the time of its inception, "invited members of all religious creeds and organizations to become its members without change of faith . . . [who] became known as `Vedantins. This is not in accordance with the facts as they are now known nor with what Swamiji seems to have had in mind at that time. A large group of people known as "Ved¬antins" (whatever their religious creed) he wanted to avoid for as long as possible. He wanted to keep his message fluid and unconfined, so that it would reach all levels of society, touch all philosophies, and flow through all religions, breaking down the barriers between them. He wanted Vedanta to be a religion that one could, to be sure, follow directly if one wished, but he wanted it also to be a teaching that could find its place in the lives of those who followed any other religion in the world, or of those who followed no religion at all. The initial carrying out of this purpose did not require-indeed, it precluded-the enlistment of an organized following, which, in those early days, could so easily have formed itself into an exclusive sect and thereby have nipped the fulfillment of Swamiji's purpose in the bud. It was a danger he was aware of and one which he was careful to guard against. Again and again, he told reporters in America and others who questioned him that he was not founding a new religion or a religious society, but was simply teaching a philosophy. "Preach the philosophy, the spiritual part, and let people suit it to their own forms, he wrote in May of 1895 in connection with the editorial policy of the Brahmavadin, which was meant for both Indian and Western readers.

Nor did Swamiji feel at this time that a religious organization with a membership was essential for the spread and preservation of his message. "Neither numbers, nor powers, nor wealth, nor learning, nor eloquence, nor anything else will prevail, but purity, living the life, in one word, anubhuti, realization. Let there be but a dozen such lion-souls in each country, lions who have broken their own bonds, who have touched the Infinite, whose whole soul is gone to Brahman, who care neither for wealth, nor power, nor fame, and these will be enough to shake the world," he had written to Sturdy on August 9, 1895. "As to societies and organisations," he had added, "these will come of themselves.Thus in America, as in England, Swamiji "let things grow," laying down no rules, giving no preaching directions to his ordained disciples, enlisting no followers, introducing no rituals, and establishing no society except that which was essential to handle the secular, or external, side of his work. "As to the teaching part," he would write to Mr. Sturdy on January 16, 1896, "my friends will go over this country from place to place, each one independent, and let them form independent circles. That is the easiest way to spread. Then, when there will be sufficient strength, we shall have yearly gatherings to concentrate our energies.

The establishment of an efficient Executive Committee within the Vedanta Society was a vast relief to Swamiji. "I have made over all the secular part of the work to a committee and am free from all that botheration," he wrote to Mr. Sturdy on December 23, 1895. "I have no aptitude for organising. It nearly breaks me to pieces. There are no available records of who constituted this committee, but we can be fairly certain that Miss Mary Phillips, Miss Ellen Waldo, and Mr. Walter Goodyear were among its first members. There were others as well, for we find Swami Kripananda writing to Mrs. Bull on December 20 of those who were then managing Swamiji's secular affairs as "mostly to me unknown people who constitute a self made committee of the Swami's move¬ment. (In this same letter, he also referred to "that com¬mittee of petticoats.") Who these unknown-to Kripananda people (mostly women) may have been it is hard to say, for he was acquainted with all those whose names are familiar to us. Many New Yorkers, however, could have become interested in Swamiji's work during the spring of 1895, when Kripananda (then Leon Landsberg) had decided to live apart from his Guru, and there must, indeed, have been workers whose names have not come down to us. One thing that is certain is that Kripananda was mistaken when he called the Committee "self made." It had been appointed by Swamiji to serve a definite purpose, namely, to raise funds, to take up collections, to rent halls, to advertise, to engage a "typewriter"-in short, to handle the business aspect of the classes and lectures-and also to attend to whatever other business matters might come along, For instance, on January 16, 1896, Swamiji wrote to Mr. Sturdy, "I have a chance of getting a piece of land in the country to serve as a summer meditation resort. That, of course, requires a committee to look after it in my absence, also, the handling of money and printing and other matters. And then there was to be the project of publishing Swamiji's pamphlets and books, which would require a committee of its own, but of this more later.

According to Kripananda's letter of December 20 to Mrs. Bull the Executive Committee was by that date functioning in full force-disposing of everything, "even the money which comes in as contributions in the classes." This was, of course, as Swamiji wished. Out of the collection money and donations, the committee met the expenses of the work. While these dis¬bursements may not have always been wise or practical (Mrs. Bull would take a dim view of them in general),* it was owing to them that Swamiji was able to give his lectures and class talks entirely free of charge. Nor did the committee handle financial matters alone, it also made resolutions. "I do not think the Swami will come to Boston," Kripananda wrote to Mrs. Bull on December 26. "The Committee resolved that he should not start his intended tour to Detroit or Chicago before the close of his work in New York which will be in April. Needless to say, to make resolutions in connection with Swamiji's work was like deciding in which direction the wind should blow or where lightning should or should not strike, and, to be sure, things would not work out at all as the committee resolved. Nevertheless, it is interesting to note that at this time the committee members were solemnly making well-intentioned, albeit superfluous, resolutions and plans._x000d_ * For Mrs. Bull's opinion of the New York Vedanta Society's handling of money see World Teacher-2 chapter 14. section two.

Those December days were full ones. "The Swami works very hard," Kripananda wrote on December 20, "lecturing twice a day, and then spending the rest of the time in hard study over the Sanskrit books [for which he had sent to India and London], not allowing himself half an hour a day for going outdoors. He eats very little-vegetable food. I am afraid [sic] he will make himself sick. Certainly anyone else would have made himself sick. "You must always remember how much work I have to do," Swamiji wrote on this same day to his Madras disciples. "Sometimes I have to deliver two or three lectures a day*and thus I make my way against all odds-hard work; any weaker man would die. Nor, as he was to write to Mrs. Bull on February 6, 1896, had he "slept even one night soundly in New York." _x000d_ * It is not surprising that Swamiji sometimes held three classes a day during this period. Often in America he would hold classes in the homes of his friends, in addition to those at his own lodgings. At the present writing, however, we have no records of his extra classes in December of 1895. According to Kripananda's letter of December 23 to the Brahmavadin, "during this short time he lectured seventeen times, morning and evening." (Brahmavadin, February 1894, pages 134--35•) Swamiji's regular class-lectures more than account for this number.

Even before Swamiji's second season hit its full stride, as it would do in January, there was work for everyone around him: Mr. Goodwin and Miss Waldo were fully occupied; other members of the Committee bustled about; Kripananda, aloof in his garret, worked far into the night, pounding out all manner of things on a Smith Premier typewriter, which with the help of Mrs. Bull he had rented for five dollars a month and which, he assured her, "I understand to handle."

"I am now preparing on the typewriter some newspaper articles from [the Swami's] lectures," he wrote to her in his letter of December 26, though I am afraid that the daily papers care little for religious matter. The last few days I worked very hard till late at night. My head is dizzy.[And on December 29:] I have not been well at all in the last few days, and so I could not finish a few more very long lessons [for Mrs. Bull] on Raja Yoga. I was crowded with work. So far I have arranged three lessons for the papers, which I shall try to place. Besides, I am translating Deussen for the Swami and writing for the Brahmavadin, and typewriting the Swami's articles [on bhakti yoga] for the same paper.

In addition, Kripananda wrote long letters to Mrs. Bull at least once a week; thus, as he said, his time was "filled out from the early morning to late in the night." He contributed what he could to the young Vedanta movement. On December 22 there appeared in the Herald an article he had "succeeded in placing in that paper." This was a compilation, with his introductory remarks, of the "Sayings of Sri Ramakrishna," taken from four issues of the Brahmavadin. The following week (Sunday, December 29) the Herald published one of the articles he had prepared from Swamiji's karma yoga class entitled "Each Is Great in His Own Place." Again, on January 19 the Herald brought forth an article in which he had quoted at length from Swamiji's bhakti yoga class of the morning of December 23. These three articles, which appeared under large and provocative headings, were no doubt read by many people, some of whom may have thereby discovered Swamiji; Kripananda's articles themselves, however, would not add anything to the present narrative and we need not reproduce them here.

Into a period of two weeks or so-from the ninth of December through the twenty-third-Swamiji had crammed a full season's activity. He had held at least twenty classes, and perhaps several more, most of which, together with his classes of the next two months, were to form a large part of the books he was to speak of as the "text-books which will be the basis of work when I am gone." These were, of course, the now famous books Karma-Yoga, Bhakti--Yoga, and Raja--Yoga. (Of Jnana--Yoga we shall say more later on.) He had dictated part of his transla¬tion of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, had written two or three chapters of Bhakti--Yoga, had directed, as always, the Indian work through his fiery letters to his brother monks and to his disciples in Madras, and had formed an executive committee to handle the secular aspect of his work in New York. In addition, he had no doubt given many private interviews, refusing none who came to him for help, guidance, and instruction.

Despite the fact that his students, as Sister Devamata writes, wanted to give him no holiday, these two weeks of unremitting work and sleepless nights made a Christmas vacation imperative. Indeed, Swamiji was longing around this time to "bury" himself in a remote Himalayan cave, there to plunge into the furthest depths of meditation. "Narendra belongs . . . To the realm of the Absolute, Sri Ramakrishna had said of him. And throughout his life, his longing for the Absolute was intense and constant. From time to time, he expressed it in a cry of anguish or in a resolve to withdraw entirely from the world, a plan that he must have known could not be carried out until the towering structure of his mission was built and his work on earth done. One such plan he communicated to Swami Kripananda, who, taking it seriously (for who could not take Swamiji's moods seriously?), wrote in his letter of December 26 to Mrs. Bull, "In May he will sail to England, to go from there to India where he intends burying himself in a cave for several years. Thus it is the last season we shall have the blessing of having him in our midst."

Swamiji was never to know, outwardly, the peace of a Himalayan cave. But at least he had a respite from work during the Christmas holidays of 1895. As early as December 8, his good friends Mr. and Mrs. Francis Leggett had invited him to spend the holidays with them at their country home in Ulster County, New York. "Going with the birds of paradise to Ridgely this Christmas, he had written to Josephine MacLeod, and accordingly he closed his New York classes on the evening of December 23 with a bhakti yoga class and the next day took off.

Before going, he wrote at least two notes (both dated December 24.), one of which, heretofore unpublished, was to Christina Greenstidel. It read in full:_x000d_ Dear Christina--Merry Christmas and happy Newyear to you. I am going today to the country. I return in 10 days._x000d_ _x000d_ As about the tour through Detroit, I will fix it later on. I am afraid if I go just now everything here will fall to pieces._x000d_ _x000d_ I will come anyway and I am afraid it will be later than I expected._x000d_ _x000d_ My love to Mrs. Phelps Mrs. Phunkey & all our friends & Christmas greetings_x000d_ _x000d_ ever yours in the Lord_x000d_ Vivekananda_x000d_ P.S. Kripananda sends his greetings too

Swamiji's other note was a short greeting to Mrs. Bull:_x000d_ _x000d_ Merry Christmas and happy New Year to you Dear Mrs. Bull. And may peace and health rest on you and yours for ever. I am going out of town today and will be back in ten days._x000d_ _x000d_ My love to all_x000d_ _x000d_ Yours affiy,_x000d_ Vivekananda

Towards the end of December of 1895 the Swami took advantage of the Christmas holidays and the invitation of his friends Mr. and Mrs. Francis Leggett, to make a ten-day visit to Ridgely Manor,"1 their country estate in Ulster County, New York._x000d_ 1 Recent study has established that the Swami spent the Christmas holidays of 1895 at Ridgely Manor, leaving New York on Christmas Eve, rather than as a guest of Mrs. Ole Bull at Cambridge, Massachusetts, as has been previously though.

R.M.S. "Britannic",_x000d_ Thursday morning, Dec.5, 1895_x000d_ Dear Alberta,_x000d_ Received your nice letter last evening. Very kind of you to remember me. I am going soon to see the "Heavenly Pair". Mr. Leggett is a saint as I have told you already, and your mother is a born empress, every inch of her, with a saint's heart inside._x000d_ I am so glad you are enjoying the Alps so much. They must be wonderful. It is always in such places that the human soul aspires for freedom. Even if the nation is spiritually poor, it aspires for physical freedom. I met a young Swiss in London. He used to come to my classes. I was very successful in London, and though I did not care for the noisy city, I was very much pleased with the people. In your country, Alberta, the Vedantic thought was introduced in the beginning by ignorant "cranks", and one has to work his way through the difficulties created by such introductions. You may have noticed that only a few men or women of the upper classes ever joined my classes in America. Again in America the upper classes being the rich, their whole time is spent in enjoying their wealth and imitating (aping?) the Europeans. On the other hand in England the Vedantic ideas have been introduced by the most learned men in the country, and there are a large number among the upper classes in England who are very thoughtful. So you will be astonished to hear that I found my grounds all prepared, and I am convinced that my work will have more hold on England than America. Add to this the tremendous tenacity of the English character, and judge for yourself. By this you will find that I have changed a good deal of my opinion about England,and I am glad to confess it. I am perfectly sure that we will do still better in Germany. I am coming back to England next summer. In the meanwhile my work is in very able hands. Joe Joe has been the same kind good pure friend to me here as in America, and my debt to your family is simply immense. My love and blessings to Hollister and you. The steamer is standing at anchor on account of fog. The purser has very kindly given me a whole cabin by myself. Every Hindu is a Raja, they think, and are very polite--and the charm will break, of course, when they find that the Raja is penniless!!_x000d_ Yours with love and blessings,_x000d_ Vivekananda

Swamiji did not depend on others for any financial help and set himself to the task of teaching etc._x000d_ Swami Vivekananda arrived at New York on Friday, December 6, 1895, in excellent health and spirits, not withstanding the seasickness he had suffered during the voyage. His visit to England and his energetic work there, though a strenuous experience had been most pleasant. Together with Swami Kripananda, he now made his headquarters at 228 West Thirty-Ninth Street, a lodging house, where the latter had been living and holding classes during November. The Swami and his disciple occupied two spacious rooms, which could accommodate as many as one hundred and fifty people, and which were used for the Swami's regular scriptural classes. Later on, as will be seen, halls of larger capacity were rented for his Sunday lectures._x000d_ The lady referred to in the previous chapter who had promised him financial help for his winter work was hindered in giving it. But he did not depend on men and external things for his success. Almost at once he set himself to the task of teaching, taking as his subjects, even as he had done the previous season, the four Yogas-Karma, Bhakti, Raja, and Jnana. After starting his classes on the evening of December 9, .he worked incessantly until the Christmas holidays, regularly holding two classes daily. In addition, he carried on a voluminous correspondence; dictated his commentary on Patanjali's Yoga-Sutras, which was embodied in his famous work Raja-Yoga; and granted many private interviews. He also wrote some articles on Bhakti for the Brahmavadin.

On Friday, December 6, at 4:24 a.m., the Brittanic at last crossed Sandy Hook Bar outside the harbor of New York. The temperature was six degrees below freezing and a sharp wind was blowing, but the sky was clear and the sun rising when, after the usual long stop at the quarantine station at Ellis Island, the ship was piloted toward the docks of Manhattan. Although the skyline that greeted Swamiji who surely stood on deck, had little resemblance to the spectacular skyline of today, its massive buildings-one of which, the first true skyscraper, rose to an awesome twenty-one stories-and the colossal stone towers of its great Brooklyn Bridge were impressive sights and among the wonders of the world.

There is no record of who met him at that early hour, but most probably his disciple Swami Kripananda was waiting at the North River dock to greet him, to look after his luggage, and to escort him to the lodging house at where a few days earlier two large parlor rooms had been rented for his and Kripananda's use. "My friends had already engaged some rooms . . . Where I am living now,he was to write to Mr. Sturdy two days later, and we can be almost certain that these friends were officers of the Society that he had founded in 1894. The lodging house was one in which Kripananda (then Leon Landsberg) had lived from April 19 to July 10 of this same year and to which he had returned in October; in November he had held classes there under the auspices of the Vedanta Society, and thus the house, familiar now to Swamiji's students, had no doubt seemed the logical place for him to make his headquarters.

The neighborhood, though dreary, was somewhat more respectable than that in which he had lived the previous season, it being six blocks farther north. Yet one cannot agree that the house was, as Kripananda wrote in a letter of December 7 to the Brahmavadin, "in the best part of the city.Though farther north, it was also farther west; and west in New York, particularly around Thirty-ninth Street, could scarcely be called "best." The house was a three-story, twenty-foot-wide brick building with a brownstone front and a slate roof. According to Sister Devamata, whose memories of this period were first published in Prabuddha Bharata of 1923, it was "one in a long monotonous row of dingy boarding houses a row, as an early photograph of this particular block shows, of those narrow, high-stooped, brownstone fronts, each almost identical with the one jammed next to it, which had sprung up every where in New York during the, latter half of the nineteenth century, and many of which, in their old or middle age, had been converted into lodging houses. Two redeeming features of this house were the low rent of its rooms and the handy fact that it could be easily reached, as Kripananda correctly pointed out, from all parts of the city. The house, which stood in the middle of the block between Seventh and Eighth avenues, was not far from the Broadway cable cars, or for that matter, from the Sixth Avenue Elevated, whose wooden coaches, drawn by steam locomotive, thundered into a station at Forty-second Street; and on Forty-second Street itself ran a cross-town horesecar.

The two parlor rooms that Swamiji's friends had engaged were on the first floor, running front to back alongside a narrow hall and opening onto one another, as parlors in those days generally did. The front windows, tall and narrow, faced north onto the street, and it was they, presumably, that provided most of the light, for the back parlor could have had, at best, only a side window that looked onto an airwell. There was neither private bath nor kitchen connected with the rooms; they were simply rooms. The lodging house kitchen, shared in common by the roomers, was, as we learn from Sister Devamata's memoirs, on the floor below (the basement or ground floor), and, to judge from the usual arrangement of houses such as this, the bathroom, also shared by all, was on the floor above. It was to this unremarkable lodging house that Swamiji, "clad in a red and flowing Hindoo cloak," came on the morning of December 6.

To Sister Christine_x000d_ 228 W. 39th Street_x000d_ [New York]_x000d_ 8th Dec. '95_x000d_ Dear Christina,_x000d_ I am once more on American Soil and have taken lodgings at 228 W. 39, where I begin work from Monday next. Some¬time after Christmas I intend to make a tour through Detroit and Chicago._x000d_ I do not care for public lecturings at all__and do not think I shall have any more public lectures charging admission. If you will see Mrs. Phelps and others of our friends and arrange some classes (strictly on nonpayment basis), it will facilitate things a good deal._x000d_ Write at your earliest opportunity and give Mrs. Phunkey [Funke] and all our friends my deepest love and gratitude._x000d_ Yours ever in the Lord,_x000d_ Vivekananda_x000d_ P.S. Kripananda is over full of praise of you and Mrs. Funkey [Funke] and sends his loving regards for you.

228 West 39th Street_x000d_ New York,_x000d_ 8th December, 1895_x000d_ Dear Joe Joe {MacLeod},_x000d_ After 10 days of the most disastrous voyage I ever had I arrived in New York. I was so so sick for days together. _x000d_ After the clean and beautiful cities of Europe, New York appears very dirty and miserable. I am going to begin work next Monday. Your bundles have been safely delivered to the heavenly pair, as Alberta calls them. They are as usual very kind. Saw Mrs. and Mr. Salomon and other friends. By chance met Mrs. Peak at Mrs. Guernsey's but yet have no news of Mrs. Rothinburger. Going with the birds of paradise to Ridgely this Christmas. Wish ever so much you were there._x000d_ Had you a nice visit with Lady Isabelle? Kindly give my love to all our friends and know oceans yourself._x000d_ Excuse this short letter. I shall write bigger ones by the next._x000d_ Ever yours in the Lord,_x000d_ Vivekananda

228 West 39th St. New York_x000d_ 8th Dec. 1895_x000d_ Dear Mrs. Bull,_x000d_ Many thanks for your kind note of welcome. I arrived last Friday after ten days of a very tedious voyage. It was awfully rough and for the first time in my life I was very badly seasick. . . . I have left some strong friends in England who will work in my absence expecting my arrival next summer. My plans are not settled yet about the work here. Only I have an idea to run to Detroit and Chicago meanwhile, and then come back to New York. The public lecture plan I intend to give up entirely, as I find the best thing for me to do is to step entirely out of the money question--either in public lectures or private classes. In the long run it does harm and sets a bad example._x000d_ In England I worked on this principle and refused even the voluntary collections they made. Mr. Sturdy, being a rich man, bore the major part of the expenses of lecturing in big halls--the rest I bore. It worked well._x000d_ Again, to use rather a vulgar illustration, even in religion there is no use overstocking the market. The supply must follow the demand, and the demand alone. If people want me, they will get up lectures. I need not bother myself about these things. If you think after consultation with Mrs. Adams and Miss Locke that it would be practicable for me to come to Chicago for a course of lectures, write to me. Of course the money question should be left entirely out._x000d_ My idea is for autonomic, independent groups in different places. Let them work on their own account and do the best they can. As for myself, I do not want to entangle myself in any organisation. Hoping you are enjoying good health both physically and mentally,_x000d_ I am yours, in the Lord,_x000d_ Vivekananda

It is clear that this season Swamiji wanted to give all aspects of his message a detailed and complete form. Nor did his plan of work pertain to New York alone; from the start he intended to hold classes in Chicago and Detroit. "My plans are not settled yet about the work here," he wrote on Sunday, December 8, to Mrs. Bull, who was at that time visiting Chicago. "Only I have an idea to run to Detroit and Chicago meanwhile, and then come back to New York... . If you think after consulting Mrs. Adams and Miss Locke that it would be practicable for me to come to Chicago for a course of lectures, write to me.

228 West 39th Street,_x000d_ New York,_x000d_ 8th December, 1895_x000d_ Dear Friend {E. T. Sturdy},_x000d_ After ten days of a most tedious and rough voyage I safely arrived in New York. My friends had already engaged some rooms at the above where I am living now and intend to hold classes ere long. In the meanwhile the Theosophists have been alarmed very much and are trying their best to hurt me; but they and their followers are of no consequence whatever._x000d_ I went to see Mrs. Leggett and other friends, and they are as kind and enthusiastic as ever._x000d_ Did you hear anything from India about the coming Sannyasin?_x000d_ I will write later fuller particulars of the work here._x000d_ Kindly convey my best love to Miss Muller and to Mrs. Sturdy and all the other friends and kiss baby for me._x000d_ Yours ever in the Sat ,_x000d_ Vivekananda

But as it happened, Swamiji's New York work was to prove to be too concentrated to admit of his taking "a quick turn through Detroit and Chicago" until the beginning of March, 1896. His full schedule began at once: from December ninth through the twenty-second he held classes twice daily on four days of the week and a question-and-answer class on Sundays.

According to Swami Kripananda (writing to Mrs. Bull on December 27), “the morning lectures are for the advanced class, and the evening lectures for the beginners. Although Kripananda’s list of the classes is lost, Miss Waldo, writing in 1905, recalls that there were at first nine classes a week.This statement, together with other scraps of information, gives us the following schedule for December:

Monday eveni Decemr 9 Introductory_x000d_ Wednesday morning and_x000d_ eveni December11, Jnana Yoga _x000d_ Friday morning and_x000d_ evening December 13, 20 Karma Yoga_x000d_ _x000d_ Saturday morning and_x000d_ eveni December 14, Raja Yoga _x000d_ _x000d_ Sunday (afternoon?) December 15, 22—Question class_x000d_ _x000d_ Monday morning and_x000d_ evening December 16, 23—Bhakti Yoga

Even as Swamiji’s schedule settled into a pattern, so also did the “household,” everyone finding his or her own place in the scheme of things. From the day of his arrival in New York until a few days after his classes began, Swamiji shared the two parlor rooms at 228 West Thirty-ninth Street with Kripananda. On December 10 the latter wrote to Mrs. Bull, “Since the Swami arrived, we had common house holding, and I gave my share to defraying the expenses of the victuals. These victuals were cooked, no doubt, in the community kitchen on the floor below. But shortly the situation changed. AT the crowded preliminary class meeting of December 9, it had become apparent that both parlor rooms would be needed for the morning and evening classes; Kripananda would require a room of his own. Thus, within a few days, he moved to a small room on the top floor of the house, which he called his garret and for which he paid two dollars a week.

228 W. 39th Street, New York_x000d_ 10th Dec., 1895_x000d_ Dear Mrs. Bull,_x000d_ . . . I have received the Secretary's letter and will be glad to lecture before the Harvard Philosophical Club as requested. The difficulty in the way is: I have begun to write in earnest, as I want to finish some text-books to form the basis of work when I am gone. I have to hurry through four little books before I go._x000d_ This month, notices are out for the four Sunday lectures. The lectures for the first week of February in Brooklyn are being arranged by Dr. Janes and others._x000d_ Yours, with best wishes,_x000d_ Vivekananda

To Sister Christine_x000d_ 228 W. 39th Street_x000d_ [New York]_x000d_ Dec. 10, 1895_x000d_ Dear Christina,_x000d_ Perhaps by this time you have received my first letter. I received yours just now._x000d_ I had a splendid success in England and have left a nucleus there to work till my arrival next summer. You will be aston ished to learn that some of my strongest friends are big "guns" of the Church of England._x000d_ This Christmas I am going away a week, from 24th Decem., to the country with Mr. and Mrs. Leggett__after that I resume my work. In the meanwhile the classes have begun._x000d_ I have written to you my intention of taking a quick turn through Detroit and Chicago in the meanwhile and [then] return back._x000d_ Give Mrs. Phelps my love and kindly arrange the classes [in Detroit] with her. The best thing is to arrange for a public lec¬ture where I give out my general plan of work. The Unitarian church is available; and if the lecture is free, there will be a big crowd. The collection most possibly will cover the expenses. Then out of this we will get the materials of a big class and then hurry them through, leaving Mrs. Phelps and you and Mrs. Funkey [Funke] to work on with them._x000d_ This plan is entirely feasible and if Mrs. Phelps and Mrs. Bagley desire it, they can work it out very quickly._x000d_ Ever yours with love and blessings,_x000d_ Vivekananda

This is the rational and philosophic side of Yoga and very difficult, but I will take you slowly through it. _x000d_ Yoga means the method of joining man and God. When you understand this, you can go on with your own definitions of man and God, and you will find the term Yoga fits in with every definition. Remember always, there are different Yogas for different minds, and that if one does not suit you, another may. All religions are divided into theory and practice. The Western mind has given itself up to the theory and only sees the practical part of religion as good works. Yoga is the practical part of religion and shows that religion is a practical power apart from good works._x000d_ At the beginning of the nineteenth century man tried to find God through reason, and Deism was the result. What little was left of God by this process was destroyed by Darwinism and Millism. Men were then thrown back upon historical and comparative religion. They thought, religion was derived from element worship (see Max Muller on the sun myths etc.); others thought that religion was derived from ancestor worship (see Herbert Spencer). But taken as a whole, these methods have proved a failure. Man cannot get at Truth by external methods._x000d_ "If I know one lump of clay, I know the whole mass of clay." The universe is all built on the same plan. The individual is only a part, like the lump of clay. If we know the human soul--which is one atom--its beginning and general history, we know the whole of nature. Birth, growth, development, decay, death--this is the sequence in all nature and is the same in the plant and the man. The difference is only in time. The whole cycle may be completed in one case in a day, in the other in three score years and ten; the methods are the same. The only way to reach a sure analysis of the universe is by the analysis of our own minds. A proper psychology is essential to the understanding of religion. To reach Truth by reason alone is impossible, because imperfect reason cannot study its own fundamental basis. Therefore the only way to study the mind is to get at facts, and then intellect will arrange them and deduce the principles. The intellect has to build the house; but it cannot do so without bricks, and it cannot make bricks. Jnana-Yoga is the surest way of arriving at facts. _x000d_ First we have the physiology of mind. We have organs of the senses, which are divided into organs of action and organs of perception. By organs I do not mean the external sense-instruments. The ophthalmic centre in the brain is the organ of sight, not the eye alone. So with every organ, the function is internal. Only when the mind reacts, is the object truly perceived. The sensory and motor nerves are necessary to perception._x000d_ Then there is the mind itself. It is like a smooth lake which when struck, say by a stone, vibrates. The vibrations gather together and react on the stone, and all through the lake they will spread and be felt. The mind is like the lake; it is constantly being set in vibrations, which leave an impression on the mind; and the idea of the Ego, or personal self, the "I", is the result of these impressions. This "I" therefore is only the very rapid transmission of force and is in itself no reality. _x000d_ The mind-stuff is a very fine material instrument used for taking up the Prana. When a man dies, the body dies; but a little bit of the mind, the seed, is left when all else is shattered; and this is the seed of the new body called by St. Paul "the spiritual body". This theory of the materiality of the mind accords with all modern theories. The idiot is lacking in intelligence because his mind-stuff is injured. Intelligence cannot be in matter nor can it be produced by any combinations of matter. Where then is intelligence? It is behind matter; it is the Jiva, the real Self, working through the instrument of matter. Transmission of force is not possible without matter, and as the Jiva cannot travel alone, some part of mind is left as a transmitting medium when all else is shattered by death._x000d_ How are perceptions made? The wall opposite sends an impression to me, but I do not see the wall until my mind reacts, that is to say, the mind cannot know the wall by mere sight. The reaction that enables the mind to get a perception of the wall is an intellectual process. In this way the whole universe is seen through our eyes plus mind (or perceptive faculty); it is necessarily coloured by our own individual tendencies. The real wall, or the real universe, is outside the mind, and is unknown and unknowable. Call this universe X, and our statement is that the seen universe is X plus mind._x000d_ What is true of the external must also apply to the internal world. Mind also wants to know itself, but this Self can only be known through the medium of the mind and is, like the wall, unknown. This self we may call Y, and the statement would then be, Y plus mind is the inner self. Kant was the first to arrive at this analysis of mind, but it was long ago stated in the Vedas. We have thus, as it were, mind standing between X and Y and reacting on both._x000d_ If X is unknown, then any qualities we give to it are only derived from our own mind. Time, space, and causation are the three conditions through which mind perceives. Time is the condition for the transmission of thought, and space for the vibration of grosser matter. Causation is the sequence in which vibrations come. Mind can only cognise through these. Anything therefore, beyond mind must be beyond time, space, and causation._x000d_ To the blind man the world is perceived by touch and sound. To us with five senses it is another world. If any of us developed an electric sense and the faculty of seeing electric waves, the world would appear different. Yet the world, as the X to all of these, is still the same. As each one brings his own mind, he sees his own world. There is X plus one sense; X plus two senses, up to five, as we know humanity. The result is constantly varied, yet X remains always unchanged. Y is also beyond our minds and beyond time, space, and causation._x000d_ But, you may ask, "How do we know there are two things (X and Y) beyond time, space, and causation?" Quite true, time makes differentiation, so that, as both are really beyond time, they must be really one. When mind sees this one, it calls it variously--X, when it is the outside world, and Y, when it is the inside world. This unit exists and is looked at through the lens of mind._x000d_ The Being of perfect nature, universally appearing to us, is God, is Absolute. The undifferentiated is the perfect condition; all others must be lower and not permanent._x000d_ What makes the undifferentiated appear differentiated to mind? This is the same kind of question as what is the origin of evil and free will? The question itself is contradictory and impossible, because the question takes for granted cause and effect. There is no cause and effect in the undifferentiated; the question assumes that the undifferentiated is in the same condition as the differentiated. "Whys" and "wherefores" are in mind only. The Self is beyond causation, and It alone is free. Its light it is which percolates through every form of mind. With every action I assert I am free, and yet every action proves that I am bound. The real Self is free, yet when mixed with mind and body, It is not free. The will is the first manifestation of the real Self; the first limitation therefore of this real Self is the will. Will is a compound of Self and mind. Now, no compound can be permanent, so that when we will to live, we must die. Immortal life is a contradiction in terms, for life, being a compound, cannot be immortal. True Being is undifferentiated and eternal. How does this Perfect Being become mixed up with will, mind, thought--all defective things? It never has become mixed. You are the real you (the Y of our former statement); you never were will; you never have changed; you as a person never existed; It is illusion. Then on what, you will say, do the phenomena of illusion rest? This is a bad question. Illusion never rests on Truth, but only on illusion. Everything struggles to go back to what was before these illusions, to be free in fact. What then is the value of life? It is to give us experience. Does this view do away with the evolution? On the contrary, it explains it. It is really the process of refinement of matter allowing the real Self to manifest Itself. It is as if a screen or a veil were between us and some other object. The object becomes clear as the screen is gradually withdrawn. The question is simply one of manifestation of the higher Self.

We can be certain that Swamiji held his December jnana yoga classes on the Wednesdays of the eleventh and the eighteenth, and almost certain of what they were. As will be seen in the following chapter, we have recently been able to identify all of the jnana yoga classes of January and February of 1896, and in the light of this knowledge, as well as in the light of their own nature and tone, it is reasonable to infer that the notes of at least two of the jnana yoga classes of December 1895, are published in the Complete Works as "Introduction to Jnana Yoga" (volume six) and "Steps to Realisation" (volume one). Further, two dated transcripts of Swami Kripananda's that have recently surfaced give us two more classes: the advanced class "Cosmology" (volume two) and a heretofore unknown introduction to the beginners (evening) jnana yoga class, which for convenience let us temporarily entitle "The First Step towards Jnana." In December, then, Swamiji's beginners jnana yoga classes, held on the evenings of December 11 and 18, were, respectively, "The First Step towards Jnana" and "Steps to Realisation." His advanced (morning) classes were probably "Introduction to Jnana Yoga" and certainly "Cosmology" (also known as "Sankhya Cosmology"). Of the advanced classes we shall speak in a later chapter; let me here quote at some length from the heretofore unknown introductory and most wonderful beginners class, "The First Step," that Swami Kripananda ably took down (Mr. Goodwin had not yet appeared on the scene) typed out, and sent to Mrs. Bull, among whose papers it has been preserved for all these years.

[A Jnâna Yoga class delivered in New York, Wednesday, December 11, 1895, and recorded by Swami Kripananda]_x000d_ The word Jnâna means knowledge. It is derived from the root Jnâ__to know__the same word from which your English word to know is derived. Jnana Yoga is Yoga by means of knowledge. What is the object of the Jnana Yoga? Freedom. Freedom from what? Freedom from our imperfections, freedom from the misery of life. Why are we miserable? We are miser¬able because we are bound. What is the bondage? The bondage is of nature. Who is it that binds us? We, ourselves._x000d_ The whole universe is bound by the law of causation. There cannot be anything, any fact__either in the internal or in the external world__that is uncaused; and every cause must produce an effect. _x000d_ Now this bondage in which we are is a fact. It need not be proved that we are in bondage. For instance: I would be very glad to get out of this room through this wall, but I cannot; I would be very glad if I never became sick, but I cannot prevent it; I would be very glad not to die, but I have to; I would be very glad to do millions of things that I cannot do. The will is there, but we do not succeed in accomplishing the desire. When we have any desire and not the means of fulfilling it, we get that peculiar reaction called misery. Who is the cause of desire? I, myself. Therefore, I myself am the cause of all the miseries I am in._x000d_ Misery begins with the birth of the child. Weak and help¬less, he enters the world. The first sign of life is weeping. Now, how could we be the cause of misery when we find it at the very beginning? We have caused it in the past. [Here Swami Viveka nanda entered into a fairly long discussion of "the very interest¬ing theory called Reincarnation". He continued:] _x000d_ To understand reincarnation, we have first to know that in this universe something can never be produced out of nothing. If there is such a thing as a human soul, it cannot be produced out of nothing. If something can be produced out of nothing, then something would disappear into nothing also. If we are pro¬duced out of nothing, then we will also go back into nothing. That which has a beginning must have an end. Therefore, as souls we could not have had any beginning. We have been ex¬isting all the time. _x000d_ Then again, if we did not exist previously, there is no explanation of our present existence. The child is born with a bundle of causes. How many things we see in a child which can never be explained until we grant that the child has had past experience__for instance, fear of death and a great number of innate tendencies. Who taught the baby to drink milk and to do so in a peculiar fashion? Where did it acquire this knowledge? We know that there cannot be any knowledge without experi¬ence, for to say that knowledge is intuitive in the child, or in¬stinctive, is what the logicians would call a "petitio principii". _x000d_ It would be the same [logic] as when a man asks me why light comes through a glass, and I answer him, "Because it is transparent". That would be really no answer at all because I am simply translating his word into a bigger one. The word "transparent" means "that through which light comes"__and that was the question. The question was why light comes through the glass, and I answered him, "Because it comes through the glass"._x000d_ In the same way, the question was why these tendencies are in the child. Why should it have fear of death if it never saw death? If this is the first time it was ever born, how did it know to suck the mother's milk? If the answer is "Oh, it was instinct", that is simply returning the question. If a man stands up and says, "I do not know", he is in a better position than the man who says, "It is instinct" and all such nonsense._x000d_ There is no such thing as instinct; there is no such thing as nature separate from habit. Habit is one's second nature, and habit is one's first nature too. All that is in your nature is the result of habit, and habit is the result of experience. There can¬not be any knowledge but from experience. _x000d_ So this baby must have had some experience too. This fact is granted even by modern materialistic science. It proves beyond doubt that the baby brings with it a fund of experience. It does not enter into this world with a "tabula rasa"__a blank mind upon which nothing is written__as some of the old philosophers believed, but ready equipped with a bundle of knowledge. So far so good. _x000d_ But while modern science grants that this bundle of knowl¬edge which the child brings with it was acquired through experi¬ence, it asserts, at the same time, that it is not its own__but its father's and its grandfather's and its great grandfather's. Knowl¬edge comes, they say, through hereditary transmission._x000d_ Now this is one step in advance of that old theory of "instinct", that is fit only for babies and idiots. This "instinct" theory is a mere pun upon words and has no meaning whatso¬ever. A man with the least thinking power and the least insight into the logical precision of words would never dare to explain innate tendencies by "instinct", a term which is equivalent to saying that something came out of nothing. _x000d_ But the modern theory of transmission through experience __though, no doubt, a step in advance of the old one__is not sufficient at all. Why not? We can understand a physical trans¬mission, but a mental transmission is impossible to understand. _x000d_ What causes me__who am a soul__to be born with a father who has transmitted certain qualities? What makes me come back? The father, having certain qualities, may be one binding cause. Taking for granted that I am a distinct soul that was existing before and wants to reincarnate__what makes my soul go into the body of a particular man? For the explanation to be sufficient, we have to assume a hereditary transmission of ener¬gies and such a thing as my own previous experience. This is what is called Karma, or, in English, the Law of Causation, the law of fitness._x000d_ For instance, if my previous actions have all been towards drunkenness, I will naturally gravitate towards persons who are transmitting a drunkard's character. I can only take advantage of the organism produced by those parents who have been trans¬mitting a certain peculiar influence for which I am fit by my previous actions. Thus we see that it is true that a certain hered¬itary experience is transmitted from father to son, and so on. At the same time, it is my past experience that joins me to the particular cause of hereditary transmission. _x000d_ A simply hereditary transmission theory will only touch the physical man and would be perfectly insufficient for the internal soul of man. Even when looking upon the matter from the purest materialistic standpoint__viz. that there is no such thing as a soul in man, and man is nothing but a bundle of atoms acted upon by certain physical forces and works like an automaton_x000d_ __even taking that for granted, the mere transmission theory would be quite insufficient._x000d_ The greatest difficulties regarding the simple hypothesis of mere physical transmission will be here: If there be no such thing as a soul in man, if he be nothing more than a bundle of atoms acted upon by certain forces, then, in the case of trans¬mission, the soul of the father would decrease in ratio to the number of his children; and the man who has five, six or eight children must, in the end, become an idiot. India and China__where men breed like rats__would then be full of idiots. But, on the contrary, we find that the least amount of lunacy is in India and China._x000d_ The question is, What do we mean by the word transmis¬sion? It is a big word, but, like so many other impossible and nonsensical terms of the same kind, it has come into use without people understanding it. If I were to ask you what transmission is, you would find that you have no real conception of its meaning because there is no idea attached to it. _x000d_ Let us look a little closer into the matter. Say, for instance, here is a father. A child is born to him. We see that the same qualities [which the father possesses] have entered into his child. Very good. Now how did the qualities of the father come to be in the child? Nobody knows. So this gap the modern physicists want to fill with the big word transmission. And what does this transmission mean? Nobody knows._x000d_ How can mental qualities of experience be condensed and made to live in one single cell of protoplasm? There is no differ¬ence between the protoplasm of a bird and that of a human brain. All we can say with regard to physical transmission is that it consists of the two or three protoplasmic cells cut from the father's body. That is all. But what nonsense to assume that ages and ages of past human experience got compressed into a few protoplasmic cells! It is too tremendous a pill they ask you to swallow with this little word transmission._x000d_ In olden times the churches had prestige, but today science has got it. And just as in olden times people never inquired for themselves__never studied the Bible, and so the priests had a very good opportunity to teach whatever they liked__so even now the majority of people do not study for themselves and, at the same time, have a tremendous awe and fear before anything called scientific. You ought to remember that there is a worse popery coming than ever existed in the church__the so called scientific popery, which has become so successful that it dictates to us with more authority than religious popery._x000d_ These popes of modern science are great popes indeed, but sometimes they ask us to believe more wonderful things than any priest or any religion ever did. And one of those wonderful things is that transmission theory, which I could never under¬stand. If I ask, "What do you mean by transmission?" they only make it a little easier by saying, "It is hereditary transmission". And if I tell them, "That is rather Greek to me", they make it still easier by saying, "It is the adherence of paternal qualities in the protoplasmic cells". In that way it becomes easier and easier, until my mind becomes muddled and disgusted with the whole thing._x000d_ Now one thing we see: we produce thought. I am talking to you this evening and it is producing thought in your brain. By this act of transmission we understand that my thoughts are being transmitted into your brain and your mind, and producing other thoughts. This is an everyday fact. _x000d_ It is always rational to take the side of things which you can understand__to take the side of fact. Transmission of thought is perfectly understandable. Therefore we are able to take up the [concept of] transmission of thought, and not of hereditary impressions of protoplasmic cells alone. We need not brush aside the theory, but the main stress must be laid upon the transmission of thought._x000d_ Now a father does not transmit thought. It is thought alone that transmits thought. The child that is born existed previously as thought. We all existed eternally as thought and will go on existing as thought. _x000d_ What we think, that our body becomes. Everything is man¬ufactured by thought, and thus we are the manufacturers of our own lives. We alone are responsible for whatever we do. It is foolish to cry out: "Why am I unhappy?" I made my own unhappiness. It is not the fault of the Lord at all. _x000d_ Someone takes advantage of the light of the sun to break into your house and rob you. And then when he is caught by the policeman, he may cry: "Oh sun, why did you make me steal?" It was not the sun's fault at all, because there are thousands of other people who did much good to their fellow beings under the light of the same sun. The sun did not tell this man to go about stealing and robbing. _x000d_ Each one of us reaps what we ourselves have sown. These miseries under which we suffer, these bondages under which we struggle, have been caused by ourselves, and none else in the universe is to blame. God is the least to blame for it. _x000d_ "Why did God create this evil world?" He did not create this evil world at all. We have made it evil, and we have to make it good. "Why did God create me so miserable?" He did not. He gave me the same powers as [He did] to every being. I brought myself to this pass. _x000d_ Is God to blame for what I myself have done? His mercy is always the same. His sun shines on the wicked and the good alike. His air, His water, His earth give the same chances to the wicked and the good. God is always the same eternal, merciful Father. The only thing for us to do is to bear the results of our own acts._x000d_ We learn that, in the first place, we have been existing eternally; in the second place that we are the makers of our own lives. There is no such thing as fate. Our lives are the result of our previous actions, our Karma. And it naturally follows that having been ourselves the makers of our Karma, we must also be able to unmake it._x000d_ The whole gist of Jnana Yoga is to show humanity the method of undoing this Karma. A caterpillar spins a little cocoon around itself out of the substance of its own body and at last finds itself imprisoned. It may cry and weep and howl there; nobody will come to its rescue until it becomes wise and then comes out, a beautiful butterfly. So with these our bondages. We are going around and around ourselves through countless ages. And now we feel miserable and cry and lament over our bondage. But crying and weeping will be of no avail. We must set ourselves to cutting these bondages._x000d_ The main cause of all bondage is ignorance. Man is not wicked by his own nature__not at all. His nature is pure, per¬fectly holy. Each man is divine. Each man that you see is a God by his very nature. This nature is covered by ignorance, and it is ignorance that binds us down. Ignorance is the cause of all mis¬ery. Ignorance is the cause of all wickedness; and knowledge will make the world good. _x000d_ Knowledge will remove all misery. Knowledge will make us free. This is the idea of Jnana Yoga: knowledge will make us free! What knowledge? Chemistry? Physics? Astronomy? Geol¬ogy? They help us a little, just a little. But the chief knowledge is that of your own nature. "Know thyself." You must know what you are, what your real nature is. You must become con¬scious of that infinite nature within. Then your bondages will burst._x000d_ Studying the external alone, man begins to feel himself to be nothing. These vast powers of nature, these tremendous changes occurring__whole communities wiped off the face of the earth in a twinkling of time, one volcanic eruption shattering to pieces whole continents__perceiving and studying these things, man begins to feel himself weak. Therefore, it is not the study of external nature that makes [one] strong. But there is the internal nature of man__a million times more powerful than any volcanic eruption or any law of nature__which conquers nature, triumphs over all its laws. And that alone teaches man what he is. _x000d_ "Knowledge is power", says the proverb, does it not? It is through knowledge that power comes. Man has got to know. Here is a man of infinite power and strength. He himself is by his own nature potent and omniscient. And this he must know. And the more he becomes conscious of his own Self, the more he manifests this power, and his bonds break and at last he becomes free._x000d_ How to know ourselves? the question remains now. There are various ways to know this Self, but in Jnana Yoga it takes the help of nothing but sheer intellectual reasoning. Reason alone, intellect alone, rising to spiritual perception, shows what we are. _x000d_ There is no question of believing. Disbelieve everything___x000d_ that is the idea of the Jnâni. Believe nothing and disbelieve everything__that is the first step. Dare to be a rationalist. Dare to follow reason wherever it leads you._x000d_ We hear everyday people saying all around us: "I dare to reason". It is, however, a very difficult thing to do. I would go two hundred miles to look at the face of the man who dares to reason and to follow reason. Nothing is easier to say, and noth¬ing is more difficult to do. We are bound to follow superstitions all the time__old, hoary superstitions, either national or be¬longing to humanity in general__superstitions belonging to family, to friends, to country, to fashion, to books, to sex and to what not. _x000d_ Talk of reason! Very few people reason, indeed. You hear a man say, "Oh, I don't like to believe in anything; I don't like to grope through darkness. I must reason". And so he reasons. But when reason smashes to pieces things that he hugs unto his breast, he says, "No more! This reasoning is all right until it breaks my ideals. Stop there!" That man would never be a Jnani. That man will carry his bondage all his life and his lives to come. Again and again he will come under the power of death. Such men are not made for Jnana. There are other methods for them__such as Bhakti Yoga, Karma Yoga, or Râja Yoga__but not Jnana Yoga._x000d_ I want to prepare you by saying that this method can be followed only by the boldest. Do not think that the man who believes in no church or belongs to no sect, or the man who boasts of his unbelief, is a rationalist. Not at all. In modern times it is rather bravado to do anything like that._x000d_ To be a rationalist requires more than unbelief. You must be able not only to reason, but also to follow the dictates of your reason. If reason tells you that this body is an illusion, are you ready to give it up? Reason tells you that heat and cold are mere illusions of your senses; are you ready to brave these things? If reason tells you that nothing that the senses convey to your mind is true, are you ready to deny your sense perception? If you dare, you are a rationalist._x000d_ It is very hard to believe in reason and follow truth. This whole world is full either of the superstitious or of half hearted hypocrites. I would rather side with superstition and ignorance than stand with these half hearted hypocrites. They are no good. They stand on both sides of the river._x000d_ Take anything up, fix your ideal and follow it out boldly unto death. That is the way to salvation. Half heartedness never led to anything. Be superstitious, be a fanatic if you please, but be something. Be something, show that you have something; but be not like these shilly shallyers with truth__these jacks of all trades who just want to get a sort of nervous titillation, a dose of opium, until this desire after the sensational becomes a habit. _x000d_ The world is getting too full of such people. Contrary to the apostles who, according to Christ, were the salt of the earth, these fellows are the ashes, the dirt of the earth. So let us first clear the ground and understand what is meant by following rea¬son, and then we will try to understand what the obstructions are to our following reason._x000d_ The first obstruction to our following reason is our unwill¬ingness to go to truth. We want truth to come to us. In all my travels, most people told me: "Oh, that is not a comfortable religion you talk about. Give us a comfortable religion!" _x000d_ I do not understand what they mean by this "comfortable religion". I was never taught any comfortable religion in my life. I want truth for my religion. Whether it be comfortable or not, I do not care. Why should truth be comfortable always? Truth many times hits hard__as we all know by our experience. Gradually, after a long intercourse with such persons, I came to find out what they meant by their stereotypical phrase. These people have got into a rut, and they do not dare to get out of it. Truth must apologize to them._x000d_ I once met a lady who was very fond of her children and her money and her everything. When I began to preach to her that the only way to God is by giving up everything, she stopped coming the next day. One day she came and told me that the reason for her staying away was because the religion I preached was very uncomfortable. "What sort of religion would be comfortable to you?" I asked in order to test her. She said: "I want to see God in my children, in my money, in my dia¬monds". _x000d_ "Very good, madam", I replied. "You have now got all these things. And you will have to see these things millions of years yet. Then you will be bumped somewhere and come to reason. Until that time comes, you will never come to God. In the meantime, go on seeing God in your children and in your money and your diamonds and your dances." _x000d_ It is difficult, almost impossible, for such people to give up sense enjoyment. It has grown upon them from birth to birth. If you ask a pig to give up his sty and to go into your most beauti¬ful parlour, why it will be death to the pig. "Let go, I must live there", says the pig. _x000d_ [Here Swami Vivekananda explained the story of the fish wife: "Once a fishwife was a guest in the house of a gardener who raised flowers. She came there with her empty basket, after selling fish in the market, and was asked to sleep in a room where flowers were kept. But, because of the fragrance of the flowers, she couldn't get to sleep for a long time. Her hostess saw her condition and said, 'Hello! Why are you tossing from side to side so restlessly?' The fishwife said: 'I don't know, friend. Perhaps the smell of the flowers has been disturbing my sleep. Can you give me my fish basket? Perhaps that will put me to sleep'."] _x000d_ So with us. The majority of mankind delights in this fish smell__this world, this enjoyment of the senses, this money and wealth and chattel and wife and children. All this nonsense of the world__this fishy smell__has grown upon us. We can hear nothing beyond it, can see nothing beyond it; nothing goes beyond it. This is the whole universe. _x000d_ All this talk about heaven and God and soul means nothing to an ordinary man. He has heaven already here. He has no other idea beyond this world. When you tell him of something higher, he says, "That is not a comfortable religion. Give us something comfortable". That is to say that religion is nothing but what he is doing. _x000d_ If he is a thief and you tell him that stealing is the highest thing we can do, he will say, "That is a comfortable religion". If he is cheating, you have to tell him that what he is doing is all right; then he will accept your teaching as a "comfortable reli¬gion". The whole trouble is that people never want to get out of their ruts__never want to get rid of the old fish basket and smell, in order to live. If they say, "I want the truth", that sim¬ply means that they want the fish basket._x000d_ When have you reached knowledge? When you are equipped with those four disciplines [i. e. the four qualifications for attainment discussed in Vedantic literature: discrimination between the real and the unreal, renunciation, the six treasures of virtue beginning with tranquillity, and longing for libera¬tion]. You must give up all desire of enjoyment, either in this life or the next. All enjoyments of this life are vain. Let them come and go as they will._x000d_ What you have earned by your past actions none can take away from you. If you have deserved wealth, you can bury yourself in the forest and it will come to you. If you have deserved good food and clothing, you may go to the north pole and they will be brought to you. The polar bear will bring them. If you have not deserved them, you may conquer the world and will die of starvation. So, why do you bother about these things? And, after all, what is the use of them?_x000d_ As children we all think that the world is made so very nice, and that masses of pleasures are simply waiting for our going out to them. That is every schoolboy's dream. And when he goes out into the world, the everyday world, very soon his dreams vanish. So with nations. When they see how every city is built upon ruins__every forest stands upon a city__then they become convinced of the vanity of this world._x000d_ All the power of knowledge and wealth once made has passed away__all the sciences of the ancients, lost, lost forever. Nobody knows how. That teaches us a grand lesson. Vanity of vanities; all is vanity and vexation of the spirit. If we have seen all this, then we become disgusted with this world and all it offers us. This is called Vairâgya, non attachment, and is the first step towards knowledge._x000d_ The natural desire of man is to go towards the senses. Turning away from the senses takes him back to God. So the first lesson we have to learn is to turn away from the vanities of the world. _x000d_ How long will you go on sinking and diving down and going up for five minutes, to again sink down, again come up and sink, and so on__tossed up and down? How long will you be whirled on this wheel of Karma__up and down, up and down? How many thousands of times have you been kings and rulers? How many times have you been surrounded by wealth and plunged into poverty? How many thousands of times have you been possessed of the greatest powers? But again you had to become men, rolling down on this mad rush of Karma's waters. This tremendous wheel of Karma stops neither for the widow's tears nor the orphan's cry. _x000d_ How long will you go on? How long? Will you be like that old man who had spent all his life in prison and, when let out, begged to be brought back into his dark and filthy dungeon cell? This is the case with us all! We cling with all our might to this low, dark, filthy cell called this world__to this hideous, chimerical existence where we are kicked about like a football by every wind that blows._x000d_ We are slaves in the hands of nature__slaves to a bit of bread, slaves to praise, slaves to blame, slaves to wife, to hus¬band, to child, slaves to everything. Why, I go about all over the world__beg, steal, rob, do anything__to make happy a boy who is, perhaps, hump backed or ugly looking. I will do every wicked thing to make him happy. Why? Because I am his father. And, at the same time, there are millions and millions of boys in this world dying of starvation__boys beautiful in body and in mind. But they are nothing to me. Let them all die. I am apt to kill them all to save this one rascal to whom I have given birth. This is what you call love. Not I. Not I. This is brutality. _x000d_ There are millions of women__beautiful in body and mind, good, gentle, virtuous__dying of starvation this minute. I do not care for them at all. But that Jennie who is mine__who beats me three times a day, and scolds me the whole day__for that Jennie I am going to beg, borrow, cheat and steal so that she will have a nice gown. _x000d_ Do you call that love? Not I. This is mere desire, animal desire__nothing more. Turn away from these things. Is there no end to these hideous dreams? Put a stop to them._x000d_ When the mind comes to that state of disgust with all the vanities of life, it is called turning away from nature. This is the first step. All desires must be given up__even the desire of get¬ting heaven. _x000d_ What are these heavens anyhow? Places where to sing psalms all the time. What for? To live there and have a nice healthy body with phosphorescent light or something of this kind coming out of every part, with a halo around the head, and with wings and the power to penetrate the wall? _x000d_ If there be powers, they must pass away sooner or later. If there is a heaven__as there may be many heavens with various grades of enjoyment__there cannot be a body that lives forever. Death will overtake us, even there. _x000d_ Every conjunction must have a disjunction. No body, finer or coarser, can be manufactured without particles of matter coming together. Whenever two particles come together, they are held by a certain attraction; and there will come a time when those particles will separate. This is the eternal law. So, wher¬ever there is a body__either grosser or finer, either in heaven or on earth__death will overcome it._x000d_ Therefore, all desires of enjoyment in this life, or in a life to come, should be given up. People have a natural desire to enjoy; and when they do not find their selfish enjoyments in this life, they think that after death they will have a lot of enjoyment somewhere else. If these enjoyments do not take us towards knowledge in this life, in this world, how can they bring us knowledge in another life?_x000d_ Which is the goal of man? Enjoyment or knowledge? Cer¬tainly not enjoyment. Man is not born to have pleasure or to suffer pain. Knowledge is the goal. Knowledge is the only plea¬sure we can have. _x000d_ All the sense pleasures belong to the brute. And the more the pleasure in knowledge comes, these sense pleasures fall down. The more animal a man is, the more he enjoys the plea¬sures of the senses. No man can eat with the same gusto as a famished dog. No man was ever born who could feel the same pleasure in eating as an ordinary bull. See how their whole soul is in that eating. Why, your millionaires would give millions for that enjoyment in eating__but they cannot have it._x000d_ This universe is like a perfectly balanced ocean. You cannot raise a wave in one place without making a hollow in another one. The sum total of energy in the universe is the same throughout. You spend it in some place, you lose it in another. The brute has got it, but he spent it on his senses; and each of his senses is a hundred times stronger than that of man._x000d_ How the dog smells at a distance! How he traces a footstep! We cannot do that. So, in the savage man. His senses are less keen than the animal's, but keener than the civilized man's. _x000d_ The lower classes in every country intensely enjoy every¬thing physical. Their senses are stronger than those of the cul¬tured. But as you go higher and higher in the scale, you see the power of thought increasing and the powers of the senses decreasing, in the same ratio. _x000d_ Take a [brute], cut him [as it were] to pieces, and in five days he is all right. But if I scratch you, it is ten to one you will suffer for weeks or months. That energy of life which he dis¬plays__you have it too. But with you, it is used in making up your brain, in the manufacture of thought. So with all enjoy¬ments and all pleasures. Either enjoy the pleasure of the senses__live like the brute and become a brute__or renounce these things and become free. _x000d_ The great civilizations__what have they died of? They went for pleasure. And they went further down and down until, under the mercy of God, savages came to exterminate them, lest we would see human brutes growling about. Savages killed off those nations that became brutalized through sense enjoyment, lest Darwin's missing link would be found._x000d_ True civilization does not mean congregating in cities and living a foolish life, but going Godward, controlling the senses, and thus becoming the ruler in this house of the Self._x000d_ Think of the slavery in which we are [bound]. Every beauti¬ful form I see, every sound of praise I hear, immediately attracts me; every word of blame I hear immediately repels me. Every fool has an influence over my mind. Every little movement in the world makes an impression upon me. Is this a life worth living? _x000d_ So when you have realized the misery of this physical exis¬tence__when you have become convinced that such a life is not worth living__you have made the first step towards Jnana.

To Sister Christine_x000d_ 228 W. 39th Street_x000d_ New York_x000d_ 12 December 1895_x000d_ Dear Christina,_x000d_ I am going away out of town from the 24th of this month and will come back on the 2nd of January. From the 24th__x000d_ the 2nd I will not be here. I will settle the dates for Detroit and Chicago after hearing from you and from Chicago._x000d_ [Paragraph excised from the original letter.]_x000d_ My love to Mrs. Phunkey [Funke] [excised] and all other friends._x000d_ Ever yours in the Lord,_x000d_ Vivekananda

According to the Sankhya philosophy, nature is composed of three forces called, in Sanskrit, Sattva, Rajas, and Tamas. These as manifested in the physical world are what we may call equilibrium, activity, and inertness. Tamas is typified as darkness or inactivity; Rajas is activity, expressed as attraction or repulsion; and Sattva is the equilibrium of the two._x000d_ In every man there are these three forces. Sometimes Tamas prevails. We become lazy, we cannot move, we are inactive, bound down by certain ideas or by mere dullness. At other times activity prevails, and at still other times that calm balancing of both. Again, in different men, one of these forces is generally predominant. The characteristic of one man is inactivity, dullness and laziness; that of another, activity, power, manifestation of energy; and in still another we find the sweetness, calmness, and gentleness, which are due to the balancing of both action and inaction. So in all creation--in animals, plants, and men--we find the more or less typical manifestation of all these different forces._x000d_ Karma-Yoga has specially to deal with these three factors. By teaching what they are and how to employ them, it helps us to do our work better. Human society is a graded organisation. We all know about morality, and we all know about duty, but at the same time we find that in different countries the significance of morality varies greatly. What is regarded as moral in one country may in another be considered perfectly immoral. For instance, in one country cousins may marry; in another, it is thought to be very immoral; in one, men may marry their sisters-in-law; in another, it is regarded as immoral; in one country people may marry only once; in another, many times; and so forth. Similarly, in all other departments of morality, we find the standard varies greatly- yet we have the idea that there must be a universal standard of morality._x000d_ So it is with duty. The idea of duty varies much among different nations. In one country, if a man does not do certain things, people will say he has acted wrongly; while if he does those very things in another country, people will say that he did not act rightly--and yet we know that there must be some universal idea of duty. In the same way, one class of society thinks that certain things are among its duty, while another class thinks quite the opposite and would be horrified if it had to do those things. Two ways are left open to us--the way of the ignorant, who think that there is only one way to truth and that all the rest are wrong, and the way of the wise, who admit that, according to our mental constitution or the different planes of existence in which we are, duty and morality may vary. The important thing is to know that there are gradations of duty and of morality--that the duty of one state of life, in one set of circumstances, will not and cannot be that of another._x000d_ To illustrate: All great teachers have taught, "Resist not evil," that non-resistance is the highest moral ideal. We all know that, if a certain number of us attempted to put that maxim fully into practice, the whole social fabric would fall to pieces, the wicked would take possession of our properties and our lives, and would do whatever they like with us. Even if only one day of such non-resistance were practised, it would lead to disaster. Yet, intuitively, in our heart of hearts we feel the truth of the teaching "Resist not evil." This seems to us to be the highest ideal; yet to teach this doctrine only would be equivalent to condemning a vast portion of mankind. Not only so, it would be making men feel that they were always doing wrong, and cause in them scruples of conscience in all their actions; it would weaken them, and that constant self-disapproval would breed more vice than any other weakness would. To the man who has begun to hate himself the gate to degeneration has already opened; and the same is true of a nation._x000d_ Our first duty is not to hate ourselves, because to advance we must have faith in ourselves first and then in God. He who has no faith in himself can never have faith in God. Therefore, the only alternative remaining to us is to recognise that duty and morality vary under different circumstances; not that the man who resists evil is doing what is always and in itself wrong, but that in the different circumstances in which he is placed it may become even his duty to resist evil._x000d_ In reading the Bhagavad-Gita, many of you in Western countries may have felt astonished at the second chapter, wherein Sri Krishna calls Arjuna a hypocrite and a coward because of his refusal to fight, or offer resistance, on account of his adversaries being his friends and relatives, making the plea that non-resistance was the highest ideal of love. This is a great lesson for us all to learn, that in all matters the two extremes are alike. The extreme positive and the extreme negative are always similar. When the vibrations of light are too slow, we do not see them, nor do we see them when they are too rapid. So with sound; when very low in pitch, we do not hear it; when very high, we do not hear it either. Of like nature is the difference between resistance and non-resistance. One man does not resist because he is weak, lazy, and cannot, not because he will not; the other man knows that he can strike an irresistible blow if he likes; yet he not only does not strike, but blesses his enemies. The one who from weakness resists not commits a sin, and as such cannot receive any benefit from the non-resistance; while the _x000d_ other would commit a sin by offering resistance. Buddha gave up his throne and renounced his position, that was true renunciation; but there cannot be any question of renunciation in the case of a beggar who has nothing to renounce. So we must always be careful about what we really mean when we speak of this non-resistance and ideal love. We must first take care to understand whether we have the power of resistance or not. Then, having the power, if we renounce it and do not resist, we are doing a grand act of love; but if we cannot resist, and yet, at the same time, try to deceive ourselves into the belief that we are actuated by motives of the highest love, we are doing the exact opposite. Arjuna became a coward at the sight of the mighty array against him; his "love" make him forget his duty towards his country and king. That is why Sri Krishna told him that he was a hypocrite; Thou talkest like a wise man, but thy actions betray thee to be a coward; therefore stand up and fight!_x000d_ Such is the central idea of Karma-Yoga. The Karma-Yogi is the man who understands that the highest ideal is non-resistance, and who also knows that this non-resistance is the highest manifestation of power in actual possession, and also what is called the resisting of evil is but a step on the way towards the manifestation of this highest power, namely, non-resistance. Before reaching this highest ideal, man's duty is to resist evil; let him work, let him fight, let him strike straight from the shoulder. Then only, when he has gained the power to resist, will non-resistance be a virtue._x000d_ I once met a man in my country whom I had known before as a very stupid, dull person, who knew nothing and had not the desire to know anything, and was living the life of a brute. He asked me what he should do to know God, how he was to get free. "Can you tell a lie?" I asked him. "No," he replied. "Then you must learn to do so. It is better to tell a lie than to be a brute, or a log of wood. You are inactive; you have not certainly reached the highest state, which is beyond all actions, calm and serene; you are too dull even to do something wicked." That was an extreme case, of course, and I was joking with him; but what I meant was that a man must be active in order to pass through activity to perfect calmness._x000d_ Inactivity should be avoided by all means. Activity always means resistance. Resist all evils, mental and physical; and when you have succeeded in resisting, then will calmness come. It is very easy to say, "Hate nobody, resist not evil," but we know what that kind of thing generally means in practice. When the eyes of society are turned towards us, we may make a show of non-resistance, but in our hearts it is canker all the time. We feel the utter want of the calm of non-resistance; we feel that it would be better for us to resist. If you desire wealth, and know at the same time that the whole world regards him who aims at wealth as a very wicked man, you, perhaps, will not dare to plunge into the struggle for wealth, yet your mind will be running day and night after money. This is hypocrisy and will serve no purpose. Plunge into the world, and then, after a time, when you have suffered and enjoyed all that is in it, will renunciation come; then will calmness come. So fulfil your desire for power and everything else, and after you have fulfilled the desire, will come the time when you will know that they are all very little things; but until you have fulfilled this desire, until you have passed through that activity, it is impossible for you to come to the state of calmness, serenity, and self-surrender. These ideas of serenity and renunciation have been preached for thousands of years; everybody has heard of them from childhood, and yet we see very few in the world who have really reached that stage. I do not know if I have seen twenty persons in my life who are really calm and non-resisting, and I have travelled over half the world._x000d_ Every man should take up his own ideal and endeavour to accomplish it. That is a surer way of progress than taking up other men's ideals, which he can never hope to accomplish. For instance, we take a child and at once give him the task of walking twenty miles. Either the little one dies, or one in a thousand crawls the twenty miles, to reach the end exhausted and half-dead. That is like what we generally try to do with the world. All the men and women, in any society, are not of the same mind, capacity, or of the same power to do things; they must have different ideals, and we have no right to sneer at any ideal. Let every one do the best he can for realising his own ideal. Nor is it right that I should be judged by your standard or you by mine. The apple tree should not be judged by the standard of the oak, nor the oak by that of the apple. To judge the apple tree you must take the apple standard, and for the oak, its own standard._x000d_ Unity in variety is the plan of creation. However men and women may vary individually, there is unity in the background. The different individual characters and classes of men and women are natural variations in creation. Hence, we ought not to judge them by the same standard or put the same ideal before them. Such a course creates only an unnatural struggle, and the result is that man begins to hate himself and is hindered from becoming religious and good. Our duty is to encourage every one in his struggle to live up to his own highest ideal, and strive at the same time to make the ideal as near as possible to the truth._x000d_ In the Hindu system of morality we find that this fact has been recognised from very ancient times; and in their scriptures and books on ethics different rules are laid down for the different classes of men--the householder, the Sannyasin (the man who has renounced the world), and the student._x000d_ The life of every individual, according to the Hindu scriptures, has its peculiar duties apart from what belongs in common to universal humanity. The Hindu begins life as a student; then he marries and becomes a householder; in old age he retires; and lastly he gives up the world and becomes a Sannyasin. To each of these stages of life certain duties are attached. No one of these stages is intrinsically superior to another. The life of the married man is quite as great as that of the celibate who has devoted himself to religious work. The scavenger in the street is quite as great and glorious as the king on his throne. Take him off his throne, make him do the work of the scavenger, and see how he fares. Take up the scavenger and see how he will rule. It is useless to say that the man who lives out of the world is a greater man than he who lives in the world; it is much more difficult to live in the world and worship God than to give it up and live a free and easy life. The four stages of life in India have in later times been reduced to two--that of the householder and of the monk. The householder marries and carries on his duties as a citizen, and the duty of the other is to devote his energies wholly to religion, to preach and to worship God. I shall read to you a few passages from the Maha-Nirvana-Tantra, which treats of this subject, and you will see that it is a very difficult task for a man to be a householder, and perform all his duties perfectly:_x000d_ The householder should be devoted to God; the knowledge of God should be his goal of life. Yet he must work constantly, perform all his duties; he must give up the fruits of his actions to God._x000d_ It is the most difficult thing in this world to work and not care for the result, to help a man and never think that he ought to be grateful, to do some good work and at the same time never look to see whether it brings you name or fame, or nothing at all. Even the most arrant coward becomes brave when the world praises him. A fool can do heroic deeds when the approbation of society is upon him, but for a man to constantly do good without caring for the approbation of his fellow men is indeed the highest sacrifice man can perform. The great duty of the householder is to earn a living, but he must take care that he does not do it by telling lies, or by cheating, or by robbing others; and he must remember that his life is for the service of God, and the poor._x000d_ Knowing that mother and father are the visible representatives of God, the householder, always and by all means, must please them. If the mother is pleased, and the father, God is pleased with the man. That child is really a good child who never speaks harsh words to his parents._x000d_ Before parents one must not utter jokes, must not show restlessness, must not show anger or temper. Before mother or father, a child must bow down low, and stand up in their presence, and must not take a seat until they order him to sit._x000d_ If the householder has food and drink and clothes without first seeing that his mother and his father, his children, his wife, and the poor, are supplied, he is committing a sin. The mother and the father are the causes of this body; so a man must undergo a thousand troubles in order to do good to them._x000d_ Even so is his duty to his wife. No man should scold his wife, and he must always maintain her as if she were his own mother. And even when he is in the greatest difficulties and troubles, he must not show anger to his wife._x000d_ He who thinks of another woman besides his wife, if he touches her even with his mind--that man goes to dark hell. Before women he must not talk improper language, and never brag of his powers. He must not say, "I have done this, and I have done that."_x000d_ The householder must always please his wife with money, clothes, love, faith, and words like nectar, and never do anything to disturb her. That man who has succeeded in getting the love of a chaste wife has succeeded in his religion and has all the virtues._x000d_ The following are duties towards children:_x000d_ A son should be lovingly reared up to his fourth year; he should be educated till he is sixteen. When he is twenty years of age he should be employed in some work; he should then be treated affectionately by his father as his equal. Exactly in the same manner the daughter should be brought up, and should be educated with the greatest care. And when she marries, the father ought to give her jewels and wealth._x000d_ Then the duty of the man is towards his brothers and sisters, and towards the children of his brothers and sisters, if they are poor, and towards his other relatives, his friends and his servants. Then his duties are towards the people of the same village, and the poor, and any one that comes to him for help. Having sufficient means, if the householder does not take care to give to his relatives and to the poor, know him to be only a brute; his is not a human being._x000d_ Excessive attachment to food, clothes, and the tending of the body, and dressing of the hair should be avoided. The householder must be pure in heart and clean in body, always active and always ready for work._x000d_ To his enemies the householder must be a hero. Them he must resist. That is the duty of the householder. He must not sit down in a corner and weep, and talk nonsense about non-resistance. If he does not show himself a hero to his enemies he has not done his duty. And to his friends and relatives he must be as gentle as a lamb.It is the duty of the householder not to pay reverence to the wicked; because, if he reverences the wicked people of the world, he patronises wickedness; and it will be a great mistake if he disregards those who are worthy of respect, the good people. He must not be gushing in his friendship; he must not go out of the way making friends everywhere; he must watch the actions of the men he wants to make friends with, and their dealings with other men, reason upon them, and then make friends._x000d_ These three things he must not talk of. He must not talk in public of his own fame; he must not preach his own name or his own powers; he must not talk of his wealth, or of anything that has been told to him privately._x000d_ A man must not say he is poor, or that he is wealthy--he must not brag of his wealth. Let him keep his own counsel; this is his religious duty. This is not mere worldly wisdom; if a man does not do so, he may be held to be immoral._x000d_ The householder is the basis, the prop, of the whole society. He is the principal earner. The poor, the weak, the children and the women who do not work--all live upon the householder; so there must be certain duties that he has to perform, and these duties must make him feel strong to perform them, and not make him think that he is doing things beneath his ideal. Therefore, if he has done something weak, or has made some mistake, he must not say so in public; and if he is engaged in some enterprise and knows he is sure to fail in it, he must not speak of it. Such self-exposure is not only uncalled for, but also unnerves the man and makes him unfit for the performance of his legitimate duties in life. At the same time, he must struggle hard to acquire these things--firstly, knowledge, and secondly, wealth. It is his duty, and if he does not do his duty, he is nobody. A householder who does not struggle to get wealth is immoral. If he is lazy and content to lead an idle life, he is immoral, because upon him depend hundreds. If he gets riches, hundreds of others will be thereby supported._x000d_ If there were not in this city hundreds who had striven to become rich, and who had acquired wealth, where would all this civilisation, and these alms-houses and great houses be?_x000d_ Going after wealth in such a case is not bad, because that wealth is for distribution. The householder is the centre of life and society. It is a worship for him to acquire and spend wealth nobly, for the householder who struggles to become rich by good means and for good purposes is doing practically the same thing for the attainment of salvation as the anchorite does in his cell when he is praying; for in them we see only the different aspects of the same virtue of self-surrender and self-sacrifice prompted by the feeling of devotion to God and to all that is His._x000d_ He must struggle to acquire a good name by all means. He must not gamble, he must not move in the company of the wicked, he must not tell lies, and must not be the cause of trouble to others._x000d_ Often people enter into things they have not the means to accomplish, with the result that they cheat others to attain their own ends. Then there is in all things the time factor to be taken into consideration; what at one time might be a failure, would perhaps at another time be a very great success._x000d_ The householder must speak the truth, and speak gently, using words which people like, which will do good to others; nor should he talk of the business of other men._x000d_ The householder by digging tanks, by planting trees on the roadsides, by establishing rest-houses for men and animals, by making roads and building bridges, goes towards the same goal as the greatest Yogi. _x000d_ This is one part of the doctrine of Karma-Yoga--activity, the duty of the householder. There is a passage later on, where it says that "if the householder dies in battle, fighting for his country or his religion, he comes to the same goal as the Yogi by meditation," showing thereby that what is duty for one is not duty for another. At the same time, it does not say that this duty is lowering and the other elevating. Each duty has its own place, and according to the circumstances in which we are placed, must we perform our duties._x000d_ One idea comes out of all this--the condemnation of all weakness. This is a particular idea in all our teachings which I like, either in philosophy, or in religion, or in work. If you read the Vedas, you will find this word always repeated--fearlessness--fear nothing. Fear is a sign of weakness. A man must go about his duties without taking notice of the sneers and the ridicule of the world._x000d_ If a man retires from the world to worship God, he must not think that those who live in the world and work for the good of the world are not worshipping God: neither must those who live in the world, for wife and children, think that those who give up the world are low vagabonds. Each is great in his own place. This thought I will illustrate by a story. _x000d_ A certain king used to inquire of all the Sannyasins that came to his country, "Which is the greater man--he who gives up the world and becomes a Sannyasin, or he who lives in the world and performs his duties as a householder?" Many wise men sought to solve the problem. Some asserted that the Sannyasin was the greater, upon which the king demanded that they should prove their assertion. When they could not, he ordered them to marry and become householders. Then others came and said, "The householder who performs his duties is the greater man." Of them, too the king demanded proofs. When they could not give them, he made them also settle down as householders._x000d_ At last there came a young Sannyasin, and the king similarly inquired of him also. He answered, "Each, O king, is equally great in his place." "Prove this to me," asked the king. "I will prove it to you," said the Sannyasin, "but you must first come and live as I do for a few days, that I may be able to prove to you what I say." The king consented and followed the Sannyasin out of his own territory and passed through many other countries until they came to a great kingdom. In the capital of that kingdom a great ceremony was going on. The king and the Sannyasin heard the noise of drums and music, and heard also the criers; the people were assembled in the streets in gala dress, and a great proclamation was being made. The king and the Sannyasin stood there to see what was going on. The crier was proclaiming loudly that the princess, daughter of the king of that country, was about to choose a husband from among those assembled before her._x000d_ It was an old custom in India for princesses to choose husbands in this way. Each princess had certain ideas of the sort of man she wanted for a husband. Some would have the handsomest man, others would have only the most learned, others again the richest, and so on. All the princes of the neighbourhood put on their bravest attire and presented themselves before her. Sometimes they too had their own criers to enumerate their advantages and the reasons why they hoped the princess would choose them. The princess was taken round on a throne, in the most splendid array, and looked at and heard about them. If she was not pleased with what she saw and heard, she said to her bearers, "Move on," and no more notice was taken of the rejected suitors. If, however, the princess was pleased with any one of them, she threw a garland of flowers over him and he became her husband._x000d_ The princess of the country to which our king and the Sannyasin had come was having one of these interesting ceremonies. She was the most beautiful princess in the world, and the husband of the princess would be ruler of the kingdom after her father's death. The idea of this princess was to marry the handsomest man, but she could not find the right one to please her. Several times these meetings had taken place, but the princess could not select a husband. This meeting was the most splendid of all; more people than ever had come it it. The princess came in on a throne, and the bearers carried her from place to place. She did not seem to care for any one, and every one became disappointed that this meeting also was going to be a failure. Just then came a young man, a Sannyasin, handsome as if the sun had come down to the earth, and stood in one corner of the assembly, watching what was going on. The throne with the princess came near him, and as soon as she saw the beautiful Sannyasin, she stopped and threw the garland over him. The young Sannyasin seized the garland and threw it off, exclaiming, "What nonsense is this? I am a Sannyasin. What is marriage to me?" The king of that country thought that perhaps this man was poor and so dared not marry the princess, and said to him, "With my daughter goes half my kingdom now, and the whole kingdom after my death!" and put the garland again on the Sannyasin. The young man threw it off once more, saying, "Nonsense! I do not want to marry," and walked quickly away from the assembly._x000d_ Now the princess had fallen so much in love with this young man that she said, "I must marry this man or I shall die"; and she went after him to bring him back. Then our other Sannyasin, who had brought the king there, said to him, "King, let us follow this pair"; so they walked after them, but at a good distance behind. The young Sannyasin who had refused to marry the princess walked out into the country for several miles. When he came to a forest and entered into it, the princess followed him, and the other two followed them. Now this young Sannyasin was well acquainted with that forest and knew all the intricate paths in it. He suddenly passed into one of these and disappeared, and the princess could not discover him. After trying for a long time to find him she sat down under a tree and began to weep, for she did not know the way out. Then our king and the other Sannyasin came up to her and said, "Do not weep; we will show you the way out of this forest, but it is too dark for us to find it now. Here is a big tree; let us rest under it, and in the morning we will go early and show you the road."_x000d_ Now a little bird and his wife and their three little ones lived on that tree, in a nest. This little bird looked down and saw the three people under the tree and said to his wife, "My dear, what shall we do? Here are some guests in the house, and it is winter, and we have no fire." So he flew away and got a bit of burning firewood in his beak and dropped it before the guests, to which they added fuel and made a blazing fire. But the little bird was not satisfied. He said again to his wife, "My dear, what shall we do? There is nothing to give these people to eat, and they are hungry. We are householders; it is our duty to feed any one who comes to the house. I must do what I can, I will give them my body." So he plunged into the midst of the fire and perished. The guests saw him falling and tried to save him, but he was too quick for them._x000d_ The little bird's wife saw what her husband did, and she said, "Here are three persons and only one little bird for them to eat. It is not enough; it is my duty as a wife not to let my husband's effort go in vain; let them have my body also." Then she fell into the fire and was burned to death._x000d_ Then the three baby-birds, when they saw what was done and that there was still not enough food for the three guests, said, "Our parents have done what they could and still it is not enough. It is our duty to carry on the work of our parents; let our bodies go too." And they all dashed down into the fire also._x000d_ Amazed at what they saw, the three people could not of course eat these birds. They passed the night without food, and in the morning the king and the Sannyasin showed the princess the way, and she went back to her father._x000d_ Then the Sannyasin said to the king, "King, you have seen that each is great in his own place. If you want to live in the world, live like those birds, ready at any moment to sacrifice yourself for others. If you want to renounce the world, be like that young man to whom the most beautiful woman and a kingdom were as nothing. If you want to be a householder, hold your life a sacrifice for the welfare of others; and if you choose the life of renunciation, do not even look at beauty and money and power. Each is great in his own place, but the duty of the one is not the duty of the other."

The word Karma is derived from the Sanskrit Kri, to do; all action is Karma. Technically, this word also means the effects of actions. In connection with metaphysics, it sometimes means the effects, of which our past actions were the causes. But in Karma-Yoga we have simply to do with the word Karma as meaning work. The goal of mankind is knowledge. That is the one ideal placed before us by Eastern philosophy. Pleasure is not the goal of man, but knowledge. Pleasure and happiness come to an end. It is a mistake to suppose that pleasure is the goal. The cause of all the miseries we have in the world is that men foolishly think pleasure to be the ideal to strive for. After a time man finds that it is not happiness, but knowledge, towards which he is going, and that both pleasure and pain are great teachers, and that he learns as much from evil as from good. As pleasure and pain pass before his soul they have upon it different pictures, and the result of these combined impressions is what is called man's "character". If you take the character of any man, it really is but the aggregate of tendencies, the sum total of the bent of his mind; you will find that misery and happiness are equal factors in the formation of that character. Good and evil have an equal share in moulding character, and in some instances misery is a greater teacher than happiness. In studying the great characters the world has produced, I dare say, in the vast majority of cases, it would be found that it was misery that taught more than happiness, it was poverty that taught more than wealth, it was blows that brought out their inner fire more than praise._x000d_ Now this knowledge, again, is inherent in man. No knowledge comes from outside; it is all inside. What we say a man "knows", should, in strict psychological language, be what he "discovers" or "unveils"; what a man "learns" is really what he "discovers", by taking the cover off his own soul, which is a mine of infinite knowledge._x000d_ We say Newton discovered gravitation. Was it sitting anywhere in a corner waiting for him? It was in his own mind; the time came and he found it out. All knowledge that the world has ever received comes from the mind; the infinite library of the universe is in your own mind. The external world is simply the suggestion, the occasion, which sets you to study your own mind, but the object of your study is always your own mind. The falling of an apple gave the suggestion to Newton, and he studied his own mind. He rearranged all the previous links of thought in his mind and discovered a new link among them, which we call the law of gravitation. It was not in the apple nor in anything in the centre of the earth._x000d_ All knowledge, therefore, secular or spiritual, is in the human mind. In many cases it is not discovered, but remains covered, and when the covering is being slowly taken off, we say, "We are learning," and the advance of knowledge is made by the advance of this process of uncovering. The man from whom this veil is being lifted is the more knowing man, the man upon whom it lies thick is ignorant, and the man from whom it has entirely gone is all-knowing, omniscient. There have been omniscient men, and, I believe, there will be yet; and that there will be myriads of them in the cycles to come. Like fire in a piece of flint, knowledge exists in the mind; suggestion is the friction which brings it out. So with all our feelings and actions--our tears and our smiles, our joys and our griefs, our weeping and our laughter, our curses and our blessings, our praises and our blames--every one of these we may find, if we calmly study our own selves, to have been brought out from within ourselves by so many blows. The result is what we are. All these blows taken together are called Karma--work, action. Every mental and physical blow that is given to the soul, by which, as it were, fire is struck from it, and by which its own power and knowledge are discovered, is Karma, this word being used in its widest sense. Thus we are all doing Karma all the time. I am talking to you: that is Karma. You are listening: that is Karma. We breathe: that is Karma. We walk: Karma. Everything we do, physical or mental, is Karma, and it leaves its marks on us._x000d_ There are certain works which are, as it were, the aggregate, the sum total, of a large number of smaller works. If we stand near the seashore and hear the waves dashing against the shingle, we think it is such a great noise, and yet we know that one wave is really composed of millions and millions of minute waves. Each one of these is making a noise, and yet we do not catch it; it is only when they become the big aggregate that we hear. Similarly, every pulsation of the heart is work. Certain kinds of work we feel and they become tangible to us; they are, at the same time, the aggregate of a number of small works. If you really want to judge of the character of a man, look not at his great performances. Every fool may become a hero at one time or another. Watch a man do his most common actions; those are indeed the things which will tell you the real character of a great man. Great occasions rouse even the lowest of human beings to some kind of greatness, but he alone is the really great man whose character is great always, the same wherever he be._x000d_ Karma in its effect on character is the most tremendous power than man has to deal with. Man is, as it were, a centre, and is attracting all the powers of the universe towards himself, and in this centre is fusing them all and again sending them off in a big current. Such a centre is the real man--the almighty, the omniscient--and he draws the whole universe towards him. Good and bad, misery and happiness, all are running towards him and clinging round him; and out of them he fashions the mighty stream of tendency called character and throws it outwards. As he has the power of drawing in anything, so has he the power of throwing it out._x000d_ All the actions that we see in the world, all the movements in human society, all the works that we have around us, are simply the display of thought, the manifestation of the will of man. Machines or instruments, cities, ships, or men-of-war, all these are simply the manifestation of the will of man; and this will is caused by character, and character is manufactured by Karma. As is Karma, so is the manifestation of the will. The men of mighty will the world has produced have all been tremendous workers--gigantic souls, with wills powerful enough to overturn worlds, wills they got by persistent work, through ages, and ages. Such a gigantic will as that of a Buddha or a Jesus could not be obtained in one life, for we know who their fathers were. It is not known that their fathers ever spoke a word for the good of mankind. Millions and millions of carpenters like Joseph had gone; millions are still living. Millions and millions of petty kings like Buddha's father had been in the world. If it was only a case of hereditary transmission, how do you account for this petty prince, who was not, perhaps, obeyed by his own servants, producing this son, whom half a world worships? How do you explain the gulf between the carpenter and his son, whom millions of human beings worship as God? It cannot be solved by the theory of heredity. The gigantic will which Buddha and Jesus threw over the world, whence did it come? Whence came this accumulation of power? It must have been there through ages and ages, continually growing bigger and bigger, until it burst on society in a Buddha or a Jesus, even rolling down to the present day._x000d_ All this is determined by Karma, work. No one can get anything unless he earns it. This is an eternal law. We may sometimes think it is not so, but in the long run we become convinced of it. A man may struggle all his life for riches; he may cheat thousands, but he finds at last that he did not deserve to become rich, and his life becomes a trouble and a nuisance to him. We may go on accumulating things for our physical enjoyment, but only what we earn is really ours. A fool may buy all the books in the world, and they will be in his library; but he will be able to read only those that he deserves to; and this deserving is produced by Karma. Our Karma determines what we deserve and what we can assimilate. We are responsible for what we are; and whatever we wish ourselves to be, we have the power to make ourselves. If what we are now has been the result of our own past actions, it certainly follows that whatever we wish to be in future can be produced by our present actions; so we have to know how to act. You will say, "What is the use of learning how to work? Everyone works in some way or other in this world." But there is such a thing as frittering away our energies. With regard to Karma-Yoga, the Gita says that it is doing work with cleverness and as a science; by knowing how to work, one can obtain the greatest results. You must remember that all work is simply to bring out the power of the mind which is already there, to wake up the soul. The power is inside every man, so is knowing; the different works are like blows to bring them out, to cause these giants to wake up._x000d_ Man works with various motives. There cannot be work without motive. Some people want to get fame, and they work for fame. Others want money, and they work for money. Others want to have power, and they work for power. Others want to get to heaven, and they work for the same. Others want to leave a name when they die, as they do in China, where no man gets a title until he is dead; and that is a better way, after all, than with us. When a man does something very good there, they give a title of nobility to his father, who is dead, or to his grandfather. Some people work for that. Some of the followers of certain Mohammedan sects work all their lives to have a big tomb built for them when they die. I know sects among whom, as soon as a child is born, a tomb is prepared for it; that is among them the most important work a man has to do, and the bigger and the finer the tomb, the better off the man is supposed to be. Others work as a penance; do all sorts of wicked things, then erect a temple, or give something to the priests to buy them off and obtain from them a passport to heaven. They think that this kind of beneficence will clear them and they will go scot-free in spite of their sinfulness. Such are some of the various motives for work._x000d_ Work for work's sake. There are some who are really the salt of the earth in every country and who work for work's sake, who do not care for name, or fame, or even to go to heaven. They work just because good will come of it. There are others who do good to the poor and help mankind from still higher motives, because they believe in doing good and love good. The motive for name and fame seldom brings immediate results, as a rule; they come to us when we are old and have almost done with life. If a man works without any selfish motive in view, does he not gain anything? Yes, he gains the highest. Unselfishness is more paying, only people have not the patience to practise it. It is more paying from the point of view of health also. Love, truth and unselfishness are not merely moral figures of speech, but they form our highest ideal, because in them lies such a manifestation of power. In the first place, a man who can work for five days, or even for five minutes, without any selfish motive whatever, without thinking of future, of heaven, of punishment, or anything of the kind, has in him the capacity to become a powerful moral giant. It is hard to do it, but in the heart of our hearts we know its value, and the good it brings. It is the greatest manifestation of power--this tremendous restraint; self-restraint is a manifestation of greater power than all outgoing action. A carriage with four horses may rush down a hill unrestrained, or the coachman may curb the horses. Which is the greater manifestation of power, to let them go or to hold them? A cannon-ball flying through the air goes a long distance and falls. Another is cut short in its flight by striking against a wall, and the impact generates intense heat. All outgoing energy following a selfish motive is frittered away; it will not cause power to return to you; but if restrained, it will result in development of power. This self-control will tend to produce a mighty will, a character which makes a Christ or a Buddha. Foolish men do not know this secret; they nevertheless want to rule mankind. Even a fool may rule the whole world if he works and waits. Let him wait a few years, restrain that foolish idea of governing; and when that idea is wholly gone, he will be a power in the world. The majority of us cannot see beyond a few years, just as some animals cannot see beyond a few steps. Just a little narrow circle--that is our world. We have not the patience to look beyond, and thus become immoral and wicked. This is our weakness, our powerlessness._x000d_ Even the lowest forms of work are not to be despised. Let the man, who knows no better, work for selfish ends, for name and fame; but everyone should always try to get towards higher and higher motives and to understand them. "To work we have the right, but not to the fruits thereof." Leave the fruits alone. Why care for results? If you wish to help a man, never think what that man's attitude should be towards you. If you want to do a great or a good work, do not trouble to think what the result will be._x000d_ There arises a difficult question in this ideal of work. Intense activity is necessary; we must always work. We cannot live a minute without work. What then becomes of rest? Here is one side of the life-struggle--work, in which we are whirled rapidly round. And here is the other--that of calm, retiring renunciation: everything is peaceful around, there is very little of noise and show, only nature with her animals and flowers and mountains. Neither of them is a perfect picture. A man used to solitude, if brought in contact with the surging whirlpool of the world, will be crushed by it; just as the fish that lives in the deep sea water, as soon as it is brought to the surface, breaks into pieces, deprived of the weight of water on it that had kept it together. Can a man who has been used to the turmoil and the rush of life live at ease if he comes to a quiet place? He suffers and perchance may lose his mind. The ideal man is he who, in the midst of the greatest silence and solitude, finds the intensest activity, and in the midst of the intensest activity finds the silence and solitude of the desert. He has learnt the secret of restraint, he has controlled himself. He goes through the streets of a big city with all its traffic, and his mind is as calm as if he were in a cave, where not a sound could reach him; and he is intensely working all the time. That is the ideal of Karma- Yoga, and if you have attained to that you have really learnt the secret of work._x000d_ But we have to begin from the beginning, to take up the works as they come to us and slowly make ourselves more unselfish every day. We must do the work and find out the motive power that prompts us; and, almost without exception, in the first years, we shall find that our motives are always selfish; but gradually this selfishness will melt by persistence, till at last will come the time when we shall be able to do really unselfish work. We may all hope that some day or other, as we struggle through the paths of life, there will come a time when we shall become perfectly unselfish; and the moment we attain to that, all our powers will be concentrated, and the knowledge which is ours will be manifest.

The highest man cannot work, for there is no binding element, no attachment, no ignorance in him. A ship is said to have passed over a mountain of magnet ore, and all the bolts and bars were drawn out, and it went to pieces. It is in ignorance that struggle remains, because we are all really atheists. Real theists cannot work. We are atheists more or less. We do not see God or believe in Him. He is G-O-D to us, and nothing more. There are moments when we think He is near, but then we fall down again. When you see Him, who struggles for whom? Help the Lord! There is a proverb in our language, "Shall we teach the Architect of the universe how to build?" So those are the highest of mankind who do not work. The next time you see these silly phrases about the world and how we must all help God and do this or that for Him, remember this. Do not think such thoughts; they are too selfish. All the work you do is subjective, is done for your own benefit. God has not fallen into a ditch for you and me to help Him out by building a hospital or something of that sort. He allows you to work. He allows you to exercise your muscles in this great gymnasium, not in order to help Him but that you may help yourself. Do you think even an ant will die for want of your help? Most arrant blasphemy! The world does not need you at all. The world goes on, you are like a drop in the ocean. A leaf does not move, the wind does not blow without Him. Blessed are we that we are given the privilege of working for Him, not of helping Him. Cut out this word "help" from your mind. You cannot help; it is blaspheming. You are here yourself at His pleasure. Do you mean to say, you help Him? You worship. When you give a morsel of food to the dog, you worship the dog as God. God is in that dog. He is the dog. He is all and in all. We are allowed to worship Him. Stand in that reverent attitude to the whole universe, and then will come perfect non-attachment. This should be your duty. This is the proper attitude of work. This is the secret taught by Karma-Yoga.

Isolation of the soul from all objects, mental and physical, is the goal; when that is attained, the soul will find that it was alone all the time, and it required no one to make it happy. As long as we require someone else to make us happy, we are slaves. When the Purusha finds that It is free, and does not require anything to complete Itself, that this nature is quite unnecessary, then freedom (Kaivalya) is attained._x000d_ Men run after a few dollars and do not think anything of cheating a fellow-being to get those dollars; but if they would restrain themselves, in a few years they would develop such characters as would bring them millions of dollars--if they wanted them. Then their will would govern the universe. But we are all such fools!_x000d_ What is the use of talking of one's mistakes to the world? They cannot thereby be undone. For what one has done one must suffer; one must try and do better. The world sympathises only with the strong and the powerful._x000d_ It is only work that is done as a free-will offering to humanity and to nature that does not bring with it any binding attachment._x000d_ Duty of any kind is not to be slighted. A man who does the lower work is not, for that reason only, a lower man than he who does the higher work; a man should not be judged by the nature of his duties, but by the manner in which he does them. His manner of doing them and his power to do them are indeed the test of a man. A shoemaker who can turn out a strong, nice pair of shoes in the shortest possible time is a better man, according to his profession and his work, than a professor who talks nonsense every day of his life._x000d_ Every duty is holy, and devotion to duty is the highest form of the worship of God; it is certainly a source of great help in enlightening and emancipating the deluded and ignorance-encumbered souls of the Baddhas--the bound ones._x000d_ By doing well the duty which is nearest to us, the duty which is in our hands now, we make ourselves stronger; and improving our strength in this manner step by step, we may even reach a state in which it shall be our privilege to do the most coveted and honoured duties in life and in society._x000d_ Nature's justice is uniformly stern and unrelenting._x000d_ The most practical man would call life neither good nor evil._x000d_ Every successful man must have behind him somewhere tremendous integrity, tremendous sincerity, and that is the cause of his signal success in life. He may not have been perfectly unselfish; yet he was tending towards it. If he had been perfectly unselfish, his would have been as great a success as that of the Buddha or of the Christ. The degree of unselfishness marks the degree of success everywhere._x000d_ The great leaders of mankind belong to higher fields than the field of platform work._x000d_ However we may try, there cannot be any action which is perfectly pure or any which is perfectly impure, taking purity or impurity in the sense of injury or non-injury. We cannot breathe or live without injuring others, and every morsel of food we eat is taken from another's mouth; our very lives are crowding out some other lives. It may be those of men, or animals, or small fungi, but someone somewhere we have to crowd out. That being the case, it naturally follows that perfection can never be attained by work. We may work through all eternity, but there will be no way out of this intricate maze: we may work on and on and on, but there will be no end._x000d_ The man who works through freedom and love cares nothing for results. But the slave wants his whipping; the servant wants his pay. So with all life; take for instance the public life. The public speaker wants a little applause or a little hissing and hooting. If you keep him in a corner without it, you kill him, for he requires it. This is working through slavery. To expect something in return, under such conditions, becomes second nature. Next comes the work of the servant, who requires some pay; I give this, and you give me that. Nothing is easier to say, "I work for work's sake", but nothing is so difficult to attain. I would go twenty miles on my hands and knees to look on the face of the man who can work for work's sake. There is a motive somewhere. If it is not money, it is power. If it is not power, it is gain. Somehow, somewhere, there is a motive power. You are my friend, and I want to work for you and with you. This is all very well, and every moment I may make protestation of my sincerity. But take care, you must be sure to agree with me! If you do not, I shall no longer take care of you or live for you! This kind of work for a motive brings misery. That work alone brings unattachment and bliss, wherein we work as masters of our own minds._x000d_ The great lesson to learn is that I am not the standard by which the whole universe is to be judged; each man is to be judged by his own idea, each race by its own standard and ideal, each custom of each country by its own reasoning and conditions. American customs are the result of the environment in which the Americans live, and Indian customs are the result of the environment in which the Indians are; and so of China, Japan, England, and every other country._x000d_ We all find ourselves in the position for which we are fit, each ball finds its own hole; and if one has some capacity above another, the world will find that out too, in this universal adjusting that goes on. So it is no use to grumble. There may be a rich man who is wicked, yet there must be in that man certain qualities that made him rich; and if any other man has the same qualities, he will also become rich. What is the use of fighting and complaining? That will not help us to better things. He who grumbles at the little thing that has fallen to his lot to do will grumble at everything. Always grumbling, he will lead a miserable life, and everything will be a failure. But that man who does his duty as he goes, putting his shoulder to the wheel, will see the light, and higher and higher duties will fall to his share.

Since the dawn of history, various extraordinary phenomena have been recorded as happening amongst human beings. Witnesses are not wanting in modern times to attest to the fact of such events, even in societies living under the full blaze of modern science. The vast mass of such evidence is unreliable, as coming from ignorant, superstitious, or fraudulent persons. In many instances the so-called miracles are imitations. But what do they imitate? It is not the sign of a candid and scientific mind to throw overboard anything without proper investigation. Surface scientists, unable to explain the various extraordinary mental phenomena, strive to ignore their very existence. They are, therefore, more culpable than those who think that their prayers are answered by a being, or beings, above the clouds, or than those who believe that their petitions will make such beings change the course of the universe. The latter have the excuse of ignorance, or at least of a defective system of education, which has taught them dependence upon such beings, a dependence which has become a part of their degenerate nature. The former have no such excuse._x000d_ For thousands of years such phenomena have been studied, investigated, and generalised, the whole ground of the religious faculties of man has been analysed, and the practical result is the science of Raja-Yoga. Raja- Yoga does not, after the unpardonable manner of some modern scientists, deny the existence of facts which are difficult to explain; on the other hand, it gently yet in no uncertain terms tells the superstitious that miracles, and answers to prayers, and powers of faith, though true as facts, are not rendered comprehensible through the superstitious explanation of attributing them to the agency of a being, or beings, above the clouds. It declares that each man is only a conduit for the infinite ocean of knowledge and power that lies behind mankind. It teaches that desires and wants are in man, that the power of supply is also in man; and that wherever and whenever a desire, a want, a prayer has been fulfilled, it was out of this infinite magazine that the supply came, and not from any supernatural being. The idea of supernatural beings may rouse to a certain extent the power of action in man, but it also brings spiritual decay. It brings dependence; it brings fear; it brings superstition. It degenerates into a horrible belief in the natural weakness of man. There is no supernatural, says the Yogi, but there are in nature gross manifestations and subtle manifestations. The subtle are the causes, the gross the effects. The gross can be easily perceived by the senses; not so the subtle. The practice of Raja-Yoga will lead to the acquisition of the more subtle perceptions._x000d_ All the orthodox systems of India philosophy have one goal in view, the liberation of the soul through perfection. The method is by Yoga. The word Yoga covers an immense ground, but both the Sankhya and the Vedanta Schools point to Yoga in some form or other._x000d_ The subject of the present book is that form of Yoga known as Raja- Yoga. The aphorisms of Patanjali are the highest authority on Raja-Yoga, and form its textbook. The other philosophers, though occasionally differing from Patanjali in some philosophical points, have, as a rule, acceded to his method of practice a decided consent. The first part of this book comprises several lectures to classes delivered by the present writer in New York. The second part is a rather free translation of the aphorisms (Sutras) of Patanjali, with a running commentary. Effort has been made to avoid technicalities as far as possible, and to keep to the free and easy style of conversation. In the first part some simple and specific directions are given for the student who want to practise, but all such are especially and earnestly reminded that, with few exceptions, Yoga can only be safely learnt by direct contact with a teacher. If these conversations succeed in awakening a desire for further information on the subject, the teacher will not be wanting._x000d_ The system of Patanjali is based upon the system of the Sankhyas, the points of difference being very few. The two most important differences are, first, that Patanjali admits a Personal God in the form of a first teacher, while the only God the Sankhyas admit is a nearly perfected being, temporarily in charge of a cycle of creation. Second, the Yogis hold the mind to be equally all-pervading with the soul, or Purusha, and the Sankhyas do not._x000d_ The Author_x000d_ Each soul is potentially divine._x000d_ The goal is to manifest this Divinity within by controlling nature, external and internal._x000d_ Do this either by work, or worship, or psychic control, or philosophy--by one, or more, or all of these--and be free._x000d_ This is the whole of religion. Doctrines, or dogmas, or rituals, or books, or temples, or forms, are but secondary details.

All our knowledge is based upon experience. What we call inferential knowledge, in which we go from the less to the more general, or from the general to the particular, has experience as its basis. In what are called the exact sciences, people easily find the truth, because it appeals to the particular experiences of every human being. The scientist does not tell you to believe in anything, but he has certain results which come from his own experiences, and reasoning on them when he asks us to believe in his conclusions, he appeals to some universal experience of humanity. In every exact science there is a basis which is common to all humanity, so that we can at once see the truth or the fallacy of the conclusions drawn therefrom. Now, the question is: Has religion any such basis or not? I shall have to answer the question both in the affirmative and in the negative._x000d_ Religion, as it is generally taught all over the world, is said to be based upon faith and belief, and, in most cases, consists only of different sets of theories, and that is the reason why we find all religions quarrelling with one another. These theories, again, are based upon belief. One man says there is a great Being sitting above the clouds and governing the whole universe, and he asks me to believe that solely on the authority of his assertion. In the same way, I may have my own ideas, which I am asking others to believe, and if they ask a reason, I cannot give them any. This is why religion and metaphysical philosophy have a bad name nowadays. Every educated man seems to say, "Oh, these religions are only bundles of theories without any standard to judge them by, each man preaching his own pet ideas." Nevertheless, there is a basis of universal belief in religion, governing all the different theories and all the varying ideas of different sects in different countries. Going to their basis we find that they also are based upon universal experiences._x000d_ In the first place, if you analyse all the various religions of the world, you will find that these are divided into two classes, those with a book and those without a book. Those with a book are the strongest, and have the largest number of followers. Those without books have mostly died out, and the few new ones have very small followings. Yet, in all of them we find one consensus of opinion, that the truths they teach are the results of the experiences of particular persons. The Christian asks you to believe in his religion, to believe in Christ and to believe in him as the incarnation of God, to believe in a God, in a soul, and in a better state of that soul. If I ask him for reason, he says he believes in them. But if you go to the fountain-head of Christianity, you will find that it is based upon experience. Christ said he saw God; the disciples said they felt God; and so forth. Similarly, in Buddhism, it is Buddha's experience. He experienced certain truths, saw them, came in contact with them, and preached them to the world. So with the Hindus. In their books the writers, who are called Rishis, or sages, declare they experienced certain truths, and these they preach. Thus it is clear that all the religions of the world have been built upon that one universal and adamantine foundation of all our knowledge--direct experience. The teachers all saw God; they all saw their own souls, they saw their future, they saw their eternity, and what they saw they preached. Only there is this difference that by most of these religions especially in modern times, a peculiar claim is made, namely, that these experiences are impossible at the present day; they were only possible with a few men, who were the first founders of the religions that subsequently bore their names. At the present time these experiences have become obsolete, and, therefore, we have now to take religion on belief. This I entirely deny. If there has been one experience in this world in any particular branch of knowledge, it absolutely follows that that experience has been possible millions of times before, and will be repeated eternally. Uniformity is the rigorous law of nature; what once happened can happen always._x000d_ The teachers of the science of Yoga, therefore, declare that religion is not only based upon the experience of ancient times, but that no man can be religious until he has the same perceptions himself. Yoga is the science which teaches us how to get these perceptions. It is not much use to talk about religion until one has felt it. Why is there so much disturbance, so much fighting and quarrelling in the name of God? There has been more bloodshed in the name of God than for any other cause, because people never went to the fountain-head; they were content only to give a mental assent to the customs of their forefathers, and wanted others to do the same. What right has a man to say he has a soul if he does not feel it, or that there is a God if he does not see Him? If there is a God we must see Him, if there is a soul we must perceive it; otherwise it is better not to believe. It is better to be an outspoken atheist than a hypocrite. The modern idea, on the one hand, with the "learned" is that religion and metaphysics and all search after a Supreme Being are futile; on the other hand, with the semi-educated, the idea seems to be that these things really have no basis; their only value consists in the fact that they furnish strong motive powers for doing good to the world. If men believe in a God, they may become good, and moral, and so make good citizens. We cannot blame them for holding such ideas, seeing that all the teaching these men get is simply to believe in an eternal rigmarole of words, without any substance behind them. They are asked to live upon words; can they do it? If they could, I should not have the least regard for human nature. Man wants truth, wants to experience truth for himself; when he has grasped it, realised it, felt it within his heart of hearts, then alone, declare the Vedas, would all doubts vanish, all darkness be scattered, and all crookedness be made straight. "Ye children of immortality, even those who live in the highest sphere, the way is found; there is a way out of all this darkness, and that is by perceiving Him who is beyond all darkness; there is no other way."_x000d_ The science of Raja-Yoga proposes to put before humanity a practical and scientifically worked out method of reaching this truth. In the first place, every science must have its own method of investigation. If you want to become an astronomer and sit down and cry "Astronomy! Astronomy!" it will never come to you. The same with chemistry. A certain method must be followed. You must go to a laboratory, take different substances, mix them up, compound them, experiment with them, and out of that will come a knowledge of chemistry. If you want to be an astronomer, you must go to an observatory, take a telescope, study the stars and planets, and then you will become an astronomer. Each science must have its own methods. I could preach you thousands of sermons, but they would not make you religious, until you practised the method. These are the truths of the sages of all countries, of all ages, of men pure and unselfish, who had no motive but to do good to the world. They all declare that they have found some truth higher than what the senses can bring to us, and they invite verification. They ask us to take up the method and practise honestly, and then, if we do not find this higher truth, we will have the right to say there is no truth in the claim, but before we have done that, we are not rational in denying the truth of their assertions. So we must work faithfully, using the prescribed methods, and light will come._x000d_ In acquiring knowledge we make use of generalisations, and generalisation is based upon observation. We first observe facts, then generalise, and then draw conclusions or principles. The knowledge of the mind, of the internal nature of man, of thought, can never be had until we have first the power of observing the facts that are gong on within. It is comparatively easy to observe facts in the external world, for many instruments have been invented for the purpose, but in the internal world we have no instrument to help us. Yet we know we must observe in order to have a real science. Without a proper analysis, any science will be hopeless--mere theorising. And that is why all the psychologists have been quarrelling among themselves since the beginning of time, except those few who found out the means of observation. _x000d_ The science of Raja-Yoga, in the first place, proposes to give us such a means of observing the internal states. The instrument is the mind itself. The power of attention, when properly guided, and directed towards the internal world, will analyse the mind, and illumine facts for us. The powers of the mind are like rays of light dissipated; when they are concentrated, they illumine. This is our only means of knowledge. Everyone is using it, both in the external and the internal world; but, for the psychologist, the same minute observation has to be directed to the internal world, which the scientific man directs to the external; and this requires a great deal of practice. From our childhood upwards we have been taught only to pay attention to things external, but never to things internal; hence most of us have nearly lost the faculty of observing the internal mechanism. To turn the mind, as it were, inside, stop it from going outside, and then to concentrate all its powers, and throw them upon the mind itself, in order that it may know its own nature, analyse itself, is very hard work. Yet that is the only way to anything which will be a scientific approach to the subject._x000d_ What is the use of such knowledge? In the first place, knowledge itself is the highest reward of knowledge, and secondly, there is also utility in it. It will take away all our misery. When by analysing his own mind, man comes face to face, as it were, with something which is never destroyed, something which is, by its own nature, eternally pure and perfect, he will no more be miserable, no more unhappy. All misery comes from fear, from unsatisfied desire. Man will find that he never dies, and then he will have no more fear of death. When he knows that he is perfect, he will have no more vain desires, and both these causes being absent, there will be no more misery--there will be perfect bliss, even while in this body._x000d_ There is only one method by which to attain this knowledge, that which is called concentration. The chemist in his laboratory concentrates all the energies of his mind into one focus, and throws them upon the materials he is analysing, and so finds out their secrets. The astronomer concentrates all the energies of his mind and projects them through his telescope upon the skies; and the stars, the sun, and the moon, give up their secrets to him. The more I can concentrate my thoughts on the matter on which I am talking to you, the more light I can throw upon you. You are listening to me, and the more you concentrate your thoughts, the more clearly you will grasp what I have to say._x000d_ How has all the knowledge in the world been gained but by the concentration of the powers of the mind? The world is ready to give up its secrets if we only know how to knock, how to give it the necessary blow. The strength and force of the blow come through concentration. There is no limit to the power of the human mind. The more concentrated it is, the more power is brought to bear on one point; that is the secret. _x000d_ It is easy to concentrate the mind on external things, the mind naturally goes outwards; but not so in the case of religion, or psychology, or metaphysics, where the subject and the object, are one. The object is internal, the mind itself is the object, and it is necessary to study the mind itself--mind studying mind. We know that there is the power of the mind called reflection. I am talking to you. At the same time I am standing aside, as it were, a second person, and knowing and hearing what I am talking. You work and think at the same time, while a portion of your mind stands by and sees what you are thinking. The powers of the mind should be concentrated and turned back upon itself, and as the darkest places reveal their secrets before the penetrating rays of the sun, so will this concentrated mind penetrate its own innermost secrets. Thus will we come to the basis of belief, the real genuine religion. We will perceive for ourselves whether we have souls, whether life is of five minutes or of eternity, whether there is a God in the universe or none. It will all be revealed to us. This is what Raja-Yoga proposes to teach. The goal of all its teaching is how to concentrate the minds, then, how to discover the innermost recesses of our own minds, then, how to generalise their contents and form our own conclusions from them. It, therefore, never asks the question what our religion is, whether we are Deists or Atheists, whether Christians, Jews, or Buddhists. We are human beings; that is sufficient. Every human being has the right and the power to seek for religion. Every human being has the right to ask the reason, why, and to have his question answered by himself, if he only takes the trouble._x000d_ So far, then, we see that in the study of this Raja-Yoga no faith or belief is necessary. Believe nothing until you find it out for yourself; that is what it teaches us. Truth requires no prop to make it stand. Do you mean to say that the facts of our awakened state require any dreams or imaginings to prove them? Certainly not. This study of Raja-Yoga takes a long time and constant practice. A part of this practice is physical, but in the main it is mental. As we proceed we shall find how intimately the mind is connected with the body. If we believe that the mind is simply a finer part of the body, and that mind acts upon the body, then it stands to reason that the body must react upon the mind. If the body is sick, the mind becomes sick also. If the body is healthy, the mind remains healthy and strong. When one is angry, the mind becomes disturbed. Similarly when the mind is disturbed, the body also becomes disturbed. With the majority of mankind the mind is greatly under the control of the body, their mind being very little developed. The vast mass of humanity is very little removed from the animals. Not only so, but in many instances, the power of control in them is little higher than that of the lower animals. We have very little command of our minds. Therefore to bring that command about, to get that control over body and mind, we must take certain physical helps. When the body is sufficiently controlled, we can attempt the manipulation of the mind. By manipulating the mind, we shall be able to bring it under our control, make it work as we like, and compel it to concentrate its powers as we desire._x000d_ According to the Raja-Yogi, the external world is but the gross form of the internal, or subtle. The finer is always the cause, the grosser the effect. So the external world is the effect, the internal the cause. In the same way external forces are simply the grosser parts, of which the internal forces are the finer. The man who has discovered and learned how to manipulate the internal forces will get the whole of nature under his control. The Yogi proposes to himself no less a task than to master the whole universe, to control the whole of nature. He wants to arrive at the point where what we call "nature's laws" will have no influence over him, where he will be able to get beyond them all. He will be master of the whole of nature, internal and external. The progress and civilisation of the human race simply mean controlling this nature._x000d_ Different races take to different processes of controlling nature. Just as in the same society some individuals want to control the external nature, and others the internal, so, among races, some want to control the external nature, and others the internal. Some say that by controlling internal nature we control everything. Others that by controlling external nature we control everything. Carried to the extreme both are right, because in nature there is no such division as internal or external. These are fictitious limitations that never existed. The externalists and the internalists are destined to meet at the same point, when both reach the extreme of their knowledge. Just as a physicist, when he pushes his knowledge to its limits, finds it melting away into metaphysics, so a metaphysician will find that what he calls mind and matter are but apparent distinctions, the reality being One._x000d_ The end and aim of all science is to find the unity, the One out of which the manifold is being manufactured, that One existing as many. Raja-Yoga proposes to start from the internal world, to study internal nature, and through that, control the whole--both internal and external. It is a very old attempt. India has been its special stronghold, but it was also attempted by other nations. In Western countries it was regarded as mysticism and people who wanted to practise it were either burned or killed as witches and sorcerers. In India, for various reasons, it fell into the hands of persons who destroyed ninety per cent of the knowledge, and tried to make a great secret of the remainder. In modern times many so-called teachers have arisen in the West worse than those of India, because the latter knew something, while these modern exponents know nothing._x000d_ Anything that is secret and mysterious in these systems of Yoga should be at once rejected. The best guide in life is strength. In religion, as in all other matters, discard everything that weakens you, have nothing to do with it. Mystery-mongering weakens the human brain. It has well-nigh destroyed Yoga--one of the grandest of sciences. From the time it was discovered, more than four thousand years ago, Yoga was perfectly delineated, formulated, and preached in India. It is a striking fact that the more modern the commentator the greater the mistakes he makes, while the more ancient the writer the more rational he is. Most of the modern writers talk of all sorts of mystery. Thus Yoga fell into the hands of a few persons who made it a secret, instead of letting the full blaze of daylight and reason fall upon it. They did so that they might have the powers to themselves._x000d_ In the first place, there is no mystery in what I teach. What little I know I will tell you. So far as I can reason it out I will do so, but as to what I do not know I will simply tell you what the books say. It is wrong to believe blindly. You must exercise your own reason and judgment; you must practise, and see whether these things happen or not. Just as you would take up any other science, exactly in the same manner you should take up this science for study. There is neither mystery nor danger in it. So far as it is true, it ought to be preached in the public streets, in broad daylight. Any attempt to mystify these things is productive of great danger._x000d_ Before proceeding further, I will tell you a little of the Sankhya philosophy, upon which the whole of Raja-Yoga is based. According to the Sankhya philosophy, the genesis of perception is as follows: the affections of external objects are carried by the outer instruments to their respective brain centres or organs, the organs carry the affections to the mind, the mind to the determinative faculty, from this the Purusha (the soul) receives them, when perception results. Next he gives the order back, as it were, to the motor centres to do the needful. With the exception of the Purusha all of these are material, but the mind is much finer matter than the external instruments. That material of which the mind is composed goes also to form the subtle matter called the Tanmatras. These become gross and make the external matter. That is the psychology of the Sankhya. So that between the intellect and the grosser matter outside there is only a difference in degree. The Purusha is the only thing which is immaterial. The mind is an instrument, as it were, in the hands of the soul, through which the soul catches external objects. The mind is constantly changing and vacillating, and can, when perfected, either attach itself to several organs, to one, or to none. For instance, if I hear the clock with great attention, I will not, perhaps, see anything although my eyes may be open, showing that the mind was not attached to the seeing organ, while it was to the hearing organ. But the perfected mind can be attached to all the organs simultaneously. It has the reflexive power of looking back into its own depths. This reflexive power is what the Yogi wants to attain; by concentrating the powers of the mind, and turning them inward, he seeks to know what is happening inside. There is in this no question of mere belief; it is the analysis arrived at by certain philosophers. Modern physiologists tell us that the eyes are not the organ of vision, but that the organ is in one of the nerve centres of the brain, and so with all the senses; they also tell us that these centres are formed of the same material as the brain itself. The Sankhyas also tell us the same thing. The former is a statement on the physical side, and the latter on the psychological side; yet both are the same. Our field of research lies beyond this. _x000d_ The Yogi proposed to attain that fine state of perception in which he can perceive all the different mental states. There must be mental perception of all of them. One can perceive how the sensation is travelling, how the mind is receiving it, how it is going to the determinative faculty, and how this gives it to the Purusha. As each science requires certain preparations and has its own method, which must be followed before it could be understood, even so in Raja-Yoga._x000d_ Certain regulations as to food are necessary; we must use that food which brings us the purest mind. If you go into a menagerie, you will find this demonstrated at once. You see the elephants, huge animals, but calm and gentle; and if you go towards the cages of the lions and tigers, you find them restless, showing how much difference has been made by food. All the forces that are working in this body have been produced out of food; we see that every day. If you begin to fast, first your body will get weak, the physical forces will suffer; then, after a few days, the mental forces will suffer also. First, memory will fail. Then comes a point, when you are not able to think, much less to pursue any course of reasoning. We have, therefore, to take care what sort of food we eat at the beginning, and when we have got strength enough, when our practice is well advanced, we need not be so careful in this respect. While the plant is growing it must be hedged round, lest it be injured; but when it becomes a tree, the hedges are taken away. It is strong enough to withstand all assaults._x000d_ A Yogi must avoid the two extremes of luxury and austerity. He must not fast, nor torture his flesh. He who does so, says the Gita, cannot be a Yogi: He who fasts, he who keeps awake, he who sleeps much, he who works too much, he who does no work, none of these can be a Yogi (Gita, VI, 16).

Raja-Yoga is divided into eight steps. The first is Yama--non-killing, truthfulness, non-stealing, continence, and non-receiving of any gifts. Next is Niyama--cleanliness, contentment, austerity, study, and self-surrender to God. Then comes Asana, or posture; Pranayama, or control of Prana; Pratyahara, or restraint of the senses from their objects; Dharana, or fixing the mind on a spot; Dhyana, or meditation; and Samadhi, or superconsciousness. The Yama and Niyama, as we see, are moral trainings; without these as the basis no practice of Yoga will succeed. As these two become established, the Yogi will begin to realise the fruits of his practice; without these it will never bear fruit. A Yogi must not think of injuring anyone, by thought, word, or deed. Mercy shall not be for men alone, but shall go beyond, and embrace the whole world._x000d_ The next step is Asana, posture. A series of exercises, physical and mental, is to be gone through every day, until certain higher states are reached. Therefore it is quite necessary that we should find a posture in which we can remain long. That posture which is the easiest for one should be the one chosen. For thinking, a certain posture may be very easy for one man, while to another it may be very difficult. We will find later on that during the study of these psychological matters a good deal of activity goes on in the body. Nerve currents will have to be displaced and given a new channel. New sorts of vibrations will begin, the whole constitution will be remodelled, as it were. But the main part of the activity will lie along the spinal column, so that the one thing necessary for the posture is to hold the spinal column free, sitting erect, holding the three parts--the chest, neck, and head--in a straight line. Let the whole weight of the body be supported by the ribs, and then you have an easy natural posture, with the spine straight. You will easily see that you cannot think very high thoughts with the chest in. This portion of the Yoga is a little similar to the Hatha-Yoga which deals entirely with the physical body, its aim being to make the physical body very strong. We have nothing to do with it here, because its practices are very difficult, and cannot be learned in a day, and, after all, do not lead to much spiritual growth. Many of these practices you will find in Delsarte and other teachers, such as placing the body in different postures, but the object in these is physical, not psychological. There is not one muscle in the body over which a man cannot establish a perfect control. The heart can be made to stop or go on at his bidding, and each part of the organism can be similarly controlled._x000d_ The result of this branch of Yoga is to make men live long; health is the chief idea, the one goal of the Hatha-Yogi. He is determined not to fall sick, and he never does. He lives long; a hundred years is nothing to him; he is quite young and fresh when he is 150, without one hair turned grey. But that is all. A banyan tree lives sometimes 5000 years, but it is a banyan tree and nothing more. So, if a man lives long, he is only a healthy animal. One or two ordinary lessons of the Hatha-Yogis are very useful. For instance, some of you will find it a good thing for headaches to drink cold water through the nose as soon as you get up in the morning; the whole day your brain will be nice and cool, and you will never catch cold. It is very easy to do; put your nose into the water, draw it up through the nostrils and make a pump action in the throat._x000d_ After one has learned to have a firm erect seat, one has to perform, according to certain schools, a practice called the purifying of the nerves. This part has been rejected by some as not belonging to Raja- Yoga, but as so great an authority as the commentator Shankaracharya advises it, I think fit that it should be mentioned, and I will quote his own directions from his commentary on the Shvethashvatara Upanishad: "The mind whose dross has been cleared away by Pranayama, becomes fixed in Brahman; therefore Pranayama is declared. First the nerves are to be purified, then comes the power to practise Pranayama. Stopping the right nostril with the thumb, through the left nostril fill in air, according to capacity; then, without any interval, throw the air out through the right nostril, closing the left one. Again inhaling through the right nostril eject through the left, according to capacity; practising this three or five times at four hours of the day, before dawn, during midday, in the evening, and at midnight, in fifteen days or a month purity of the nerves is attained; then begins Pranayama."_x000d_ Practice is absolutely necessary. You may sit down and listen to me by the hour every day, but if you do not practise, you will not get one step further. It all depends on practice. We never understand these things until we experience them. We will have to see and feel them for ourselves. Simply listening to explanations and theories will not do. There are several obstructions to practice. The first obstruction is an unhealthy body: if the body is not in a fit state, the practice will be obstructed. Therefore we have to keep the body in good health; we have to take care of what we eat and drink, and what we do. Always use a mental effort, what is usually called "Christian Science," to keep the body strong. That is all--nothing further of the body. We must not forget that health is only a means to an end. If health were the end, we would be like animals; animals rarely become unhealthy._x000d_ The second obstruction is doubt; we always feel doubtful about things we do not see. Man cannot live upon words, however he may try. So, doubt comes to us as to whether there is any truth in these things or not; even the best of us will doubt sometimes. With practice, within a few days, a little glimpse will come, enough to give one encouragement and hope. As a certain commentator on Yoga philosophy says, "When one proof is obtained, however little that may be, it will give us faith in the whole teaching of Yoga." For instance, after the first few months of practice, you will begin to find you can read another's thoughts; they will come to you in picture form. Perhaps you will hear something happening at a long distance, when you concentrate your mind with a wish to hear. These glimpses will come, by little bits at first, but enough to give you faith, and strength, and hope. For instance, if you concentrate your thoughts on the tip of your nose, in a few days you will begin to smell most beautiful fragrance, which will be enough to show you that there are certain mental perceptions that can be made obvious without the contact of physical objects. But we must always remember that these are only the means; the aim, the end, the goal, of all this training is liberation of the soul. Absolute control of nature, and nothing short of it, must be the goal. We must be the masters, and not the slaves of nature; neither body nor mind must be our master, nor must we forget that the body is mine, and not I the body's._x000d_ A god and a demon went to learn about the Self from a great sage. They studied with him for a long time. At last the sage told them, "You yourselves are the Being you are seeking." Both of them thought that their bodies were the Self. They went back to their people quite satisfied and said, "We have learned everything that was to be learned; eat, drink,and be merry; we are the Self; there is nothing beyond us." The nature of the demon was ignorant, clouded; so he never inquired any further, but was perfectly contented with the idea that he was God, that by the Self was meant the body. The god had a purer nature. He at first committed the mistake of thinking: I, this body, am Brahman: so keep it strong and in health, and well dressed, and give it all sorts of enjoyments. But, in a few days, he found out that that could not be the meaning of the sage, their master; there must be something higher. So he came back and said, "Sir, did you teach me that this body was the Self? If so, I see all bodies die; the Self cannot die." The sage said, "Find it out; thou art That." Then the god thought that the vital forces which work the body were what the sage meant. But, after a time, he found that if he ate, these vital forces remained strong, but, if he starved, they became weak. The god then went back to the sage and said, "Sir, do you mean that the vital forces are the Self?" The sage said, "Find out for yourself; thou art That." The god returned home once more, thinking that it was the mind, perhaps, that was the Self. But in a short while he saw that thoughts were so various, now good, again bad; the mind was too changeable to be the Self. He went back to the sage and said, "Sir, I do not think that the mind is the Self; did you mean that?" "No," replied the sage, "thou art That; find out for yourself." The god went home, and at last found that he was the Self, beyond all thought, one without birth or death, whom the sword cannot pierce or the fire burn, whom the air cannot dry or the water melt, the beginningless and endless, the immovable, the intangible, the omniscient, the omnipotent Being; that It was neither the body nor the mind, but beyond them all. So he was satisfied; but the poor demon did not get the truth, owing to his fondness for the body._x000d_ This world has a good many of these demonic natures, but there are some gods too. If one proposes to teach any science to increase the power of sense-enjoyment, one finds multitudes ready for it. If one undertakes to show the supreme goal, one finds few to listen to him. Very few have the power to grasp the higher, fewer still the patience to attain to it. But there are a few also who know that even if the body can be made to live for a thousand years, the result in the end will be the same. When the forces that hold it together go away, the body must fall. No man was ever born who could stop his body one moment from changing. Body is the name of a series of changes. "As in a river the masses of water are changing before you every moment, and new masses are coming, yet taking similar form, so is it with this body." Yet the body must be kept strong and healthy. It is the best instrument we have._x000d_ This human body is the greatest body in the universe, and a human being the greatest being. Man is higher than all animals, than all angels; none is greater than man. Even the Devas (gods) will have to come down again and attain to salvation through a human body. Man alone attains to perfection, not even the Devas. According to the Jews and Mohammedans, God created man after creating the angels and everything else, and after creating man He asked the angels to come and salute him, and all did so except Iblis; so God cursed him and he became Satan. Behind this allegory is the great truth that this human birth is the greatest birth we can have. The lower creation, the animal, is dull, and manufactured mostly out of Tamas. Animals cannot have any high thoughts; nor can the angels, or Devas, attain to direct freedom without human birth. In human society, in the same way, too much wealth or too much poverty is a great impediment to the higher development of the soul. It is from the middle classes that the great ones of the world come. Here the forces are very equally adjusted and balanced._x000d_ Returning to our subject, we come next to Pranayama, controlling the breathing. What has that to do with concentrating the powers of the mind? Breath is like the fly-wheel of this machine, the body. In a big engine you find the fly-wheel first moving, and that motion is conveyed to finer and finer machinery until the most delicate and finest mechanism in the machine is in motion. The breath is that fly-wheel, supplying and regulating the motive power to everything in this body._x000d_ There was once a minister to a great king. He fell into disgrace. The king, as a punishment, ordered him to be shut up in the top of a very high tower. This was done, and the minister was left there to perish. He had a faithful wife, however, who came to the tower at night and called to her husband at the top to know what she could do to help him. He told her to return to the tower the following night and bring with her a long rope, some stout twine, pack thread, silken thread, a beetle, and a little honey. Wondering much, the good wife obeyed her husband, and brought him the desired articles. The husband directed her to attach the silken thread firmly to the beetle, then to smear its horns with a drop of honey, and to set it free on the wall of the tower, with its head pointing upwards. She obeyed all these instructions, and the beetle started on its long journey. Smelling the honey ahead it slowly crept onwards, in the hope of reaching the honey, until at last it reached to top of the tower, when the minister grasped the beetle, and got possession of the silken thread. He told his wife to tie the other end to the pack thread, and after he had drawn up the pack thread, he repeated the process with the stout twine, and lastly with the rope. Then the rest was easy. The minister descended from the tower by means of the rope, and made his escape. In this body of ours the breath motion is the "silken thread"; by laying hold of and learning to control it we grasp the pack thread of the nerve currents, and from these the stout twine of our thoughts, and lastly the rope of Prana, controlling which we reach freedom._x000d_ We do not know anything about our own bodies; we cannot know. At best we can take a dead body, and cut it in pieces, and there are some who can take a live animal and cut it in pieces in order to see what is inside the body. Still, that has nothing to do with our own bodies. We know very little about them. Why do we not? Because our attention is not discriminating enough to catch the very fine movements that are going on within. We can know of them only when the mind becomes more subtle and enters, as it were, deeper into the body. To get the subtle perception we have to begin with the grosser perceptions. We have to get hold of that which is setting the whole engine in motion. That is the Prana, the most obvious manifestation of which is the breath. Then, along with the breath, we shall slowly enter the body, which will enable us to find out about the subtle forces, the nerve currents that are moving all over the body. As soon as we perceive and learn to feel them, we shall begin to get control over them, and over the body. The mind is also set in motion by these different nerve currents, so at last we shall reach the state of perfect control over the body and the mind, making both our servants. Knowledge is power. We have to get this power. So we must begin at the beginning, with Pranayama, restraining the Prana. This Pranayama is a long subject, and will take several lessons to illustrate it thoroughly. We shall take it part by part._x000d_ We shall gradually see the reasons for each exercise and what forces in the body are set in motion. All these things will come to us, but it requires constant practice, and the proof will come by practice. No amount of reasoning which I can give you will be proof to you, until you have demonstrated it for yourselves. As soon as you begin to feel these currents in motion all over you, doubts will vanish, but it requires hard practice every day. You must practise at least twice every day, and the best times are towards the morning and the evening. When night passes into day, and day into night, a state of relative calmness ensues. The early morning and the early evening are the two periods of calmness. Your body will have a like tendency to become calm at those times. We should take advantage of that natural condition and begin then to practise. Make it a rule not to eat until you have practised; if you do this, the sheer force of hunger will break your laziness. In India they teach children never to eat until they have practised or worshipped, and it becomes natural to them after a time; a boy will not feel hungry until he has bathed and practised. _x000d_ Those of you who can afford it will do better to have a room for this practice alone. Do not sleep in that room, it must be kept holy. You must not enter the room until you have bathed, and are perfectly clean in body and mind. Place flowers in that room always; they are the best surroundings for a Yogi; also pictures that are pleasing. Burn incense morning and evening. Have no quarrelling, nor anger, nor unholy thought in that room. Only allow those persons to enter it who are of the same thought as you. Then gradually there will be an atmosphere of holiness in the room, so that when you are miserable, sorrowful, doubtful, or your mind is disturbed, the very fact of entering that room will make you calm. This was the idea of the temple and the church, and in some temples and churches you will find it even now, but in the majority of them the very idea has been lost. The idea is that by keeping holy vibrations there the place becomes and remains illumined. Those who cannot afford to have a room set apart can practise anywhere they like. Sit in a straight posture, and the first thing to do is to send a current of holy thought to all creation. Mentally repeat, "Let all beings be happy; let all beings be peaceful; let all beings be blissful." So do to the east, south, north and west. The more you do that the better you will feel yourself. You will find at last that the easiest way to make ourselves healthy is to see that others are healthy, and the easiest way to make ourselves happy is to see that others are happy. After doing that, those who believe in God should pray--not for money, not for health, nor for heaven; pray for knowledge and light; every other prayer is selfish. Then the next thing to do is to think of your own body, and see that it is strong and healthy; it is the best instrument you have. Think of it as being as strong as adamant, and that with the help of this body you will cross the ocean of life. Freedom is never to be reached by the weak. Throw away all weakness. Tell your body that it is strong, tell your mind that it is strong, and have unbounded faith and hope in yourself.

To the Dewan of Mysore, Madras _x000d_ Chicago,_x000d_ the 14th Dec. '95_x000d_ Dear Sir___x000d_ The gentleman I have the pleasure of introducing to you was the chairman of the Chicago Parliament of religions._x000d_ All India owes him a deep debt of gratitude. He is now on a tour through our country, and I am sure you will help him in seeing your part of the country and oblige._x000d_ Yours with blessings,_x000d_ Vivekananda

To the Maharaja of Limdi,_x000d_ Cathiawad, Bombay_x000d_ Chicago_x000d_ 14th Dec. '95_x000d_ Your Highness,_x000d_ The gentleman whom I have the pleasure of introducing to you was the chairman of the Parliament of Religions held in Chicago._x000d_ He is a holy and noble gentleman. We owe him a deep debt of gratitude; and as he is going to make a tour through India, I hope your Highness will extend him the same hospitality as he has to us._x000d_ Yours with blessings,_x000d_ Vivekananda

Before going into the Yoga aphorisms I shall try to discuss one great question, upon which rests the whole theory of religion for the Yogis. It seems the consensus of opinion of the great minds of the world, and it has been nearly demonstrated by researches into physical nature, that we are the outcome and manifestation of an absolute condition, back of our present relative condition, and are going forward, to return to that absolute. This being granted, the question is: Which is better, the absolute or this state? There are not wanting people who think that this manifested state is the highest state of man. Thinkers of great calibre are of the opinion that we are manifestations of undifferentiated being and the differentiated state is higher than the absolute. They imagine that in the absolute there cannot be any quality; that it must be insensate, dull, and lifeless; that only this life can be enjoyed, and, therefore, we must cling to it. First of all we want to inquire into other solutions of life. There was an old solution that man after death remained the same; that all his good sides, minus his evil sides, remained for ever. Logically stated, this means that man's goal is the world; this world carried a stage higher, and eliminated of its evils, is the state they call heaven. This theory, on the face of it, is absurd and puerile, because it cannot be. There cannot be good without evil, nor evil without good. To live in a world where it is all good and no evil is what Sanskrit logicians call a "dream in the air". Another theory in modern times has been presented by several schools, that man's destiny is to go on always improving, always struggling towards, but never reaching the goal. This statement, though apparently very nice, is also absurd, because there is no such thing as motion in a straight line. Every motion is in a circle. If you can take up a stone, and project it into space, and then live long enough, that stone, if it meets with no obstruction, will come back exactly to your hand. A straight line, infinitely projected, must end in a circle. Therefore, this idea that the destiny of man is progressing ever forward and forward, and never stopping, is absurd. Although extraneous to the subject, I may remark that this idea explains the ethical theory that you must not hate, and must love. Because, just as in the case of electricity the modern theory is that the power leaves the dynamo and completes the circle back to the dynamo, so with hate and love; they must come back to the source. Therefore do not hate anybody, because that hatred which comes out from you, must, in the long run, come back to you. If you love, that love will come back to you, completing the circle. It is as certain as can be, that every bit of hatred that goes out of the heart of a man comes back to him in full force, nothing can stop it; similarly every impulse of love comes back to him. _x000d_ On other and practical grounds we see that the theory of eternal progression is untenable, for destruction is the goal of everything earthly. All our struggles and hopes and fears and joys, what will they lead to? We shall all end in death. Nothing is so certain as this. Where, then, is this motion in a straight line--this infinite progression? It is only going out to a distance, and coming back to the centre from which it started. See how, from nebulae, the sun, moon, and stars are produced; then they dissolve and go back to nebulae. The same is being done everywhere. The plant takes material from the earth, dissolves, and gives it back. Every form in this world is taken out of surrounding atoms and goes back to these atoms. It cannot be that the same law acts differently in different places. Law is uniform. Nothing is more certain than that. If this is the law of nature, it also applies to thought. Thought will dissolve and go back to its origin. Whether we will it or not, we shall have to return to our origin which is called God or Absolute. We all came from God, and we are all bound to go back to God. Call that by any name you like, God, Absolute, or Nature, the fact remains the same. "From whom all this universe comes out, in whom all that is born lives, and to whom all returns." This is one fact that is certain. Nature works on the same plan; what is being worked out in one sphere is repeated in millions of spheres. What you see with the planets, the same will it be with this earth, with men, and with all. The huge wave is a mighty compound of small waves, it may be of millions; the life of the whole world is a compound of millions of little lives, and the death of the whole world is the compound of the deaths of these millions of little beings._x000d_ Now the question arises: Is going back to God the higher state, or not? The philosophers of the Yoga school emphatically answer that it is. They say that man's present state is a degeneration. There is not one religion on the face of the earth which says that man is an improvement. The idea is that his beginning is perfect and pure, that he degenerates until he cannot degenerate further, and that there must come a time when he shoots upward again to complete the circle. The circle must be described. However low he may go, he must ultimately take the upward bend and go back to the original source, which is God. Man comes from God in the beginning, in the middle he becomes man, and in the end he goes back to God. This is the method of putting it in the dualistic form. The monistic form is that man is God, and goes back to Him again. If our present state is the higher one, then why is there so much horror and misery, and why is there an end to it? If this is the higher state, why does it end? _x000d_ That which corrupts and degenerates cannot be the highest state. Why should it be so diabolical, so unsatisfying? It is only excusable, inasmuch as through it we are taking a higher groove; we have to pass through it in order to become regenerate again. Put a seed into the ground and it disintegrates, dissolves after a time, and out of that dissolution comes the splendid tree. Every soul must disintegrate to become God. So it follows that the sooner we get out of this state we call "man" the better for us. Is it by committing suicide that we get out of this state? Not at all. That will be making it worse. Torturing ourselves, or condemning the world, is not the way to get out. We have to pass through the Slough of Despond, and the sooner we are through, the better. It must always be remembered that man-state is not the highest state._x000d_ The really difficult part to understand is that this state, the Absolute, which has been called the highest, is not, as some fear, that of the zoophyte or of the stone. According to them, there are only two states of existence, one of the stone, and the other of thought. What right have they to limit existence to these two? Is there not something infinitely superior to thought? The vibrations of light, when they are very low, we do not see; when they become a little more intense, they become light to us; when they become still more intense, we do not see them--it is dark to us. Is the darkness in the end the same darkness as in the beginning? Certainly not; they are different as the two poles. Is the thoughtlessness of the stone the same as the thoughtlessness of God? Certainly not. God does not think; He does not reason. Why should He? Is anything unknown to Him, that He should reason? The stone cannot reason; God does not. Such is the difference. These philosophers think it is awful if we go beyond thought; they find nothing beyond thought._x000d_ There are much higher states of existence beyond reasoning. It is really beyond the intellect that the first state of religious life is to be found. When you step beyond thought and intellect and all reasoning, then you have made the first step towards God; and that is the beginning of life. What is commonly called life is but an embryo state._x000d_ The next question will be: What proof is there that the state beyond thought and reasoning is the highest state? In the first place, all the great men of the world, much greater than those that only talk, men who moved the world, men who never thought of any selfish ends whatever, have declared that this life is but a little stage on the way towards Infinity which is beyond. In the second place, they not only say so, but show the way to every one, explain their methods, that all can follow in their steps. In the third place, there is no other way left. There is no other explanation. Taking for granted that there is no higher state, why are we going through this circle all the time; what reason can explain the world? The sensible world will be the limit to our knowledge if we cannot go farther, if we must not ask for anything more. This is what is called agnosticism. But what reason is there to believe in the testimony of the senses? I would call that man a true agnostic who would stand still in the street and die. If reason is all in all, it leaves us no place to stand on this side of nihilism. If a man is agnostic of everything but money, fame, and name, he is only a fraud. Kant has proved beyond all doubt that we cannot penetrate beyond the tremendous dead wall called reason. But that is the very first idea upon which all Indian thought takes its stand, and dares to seek, and succeeds in finding something higher than reason, where alone the explanation of the present state is to be found. This is the value of the study of something that will take us beyond the world. "Thou art our father, and wilt take us to the other shore of this ocean of ignorance." That is the science of religion, nothing else.

There is little doubt that four of Swamiji's raja yoga classes were also held in December, on the Saturdays of the fourteenth and the twenty-first, and that the evening classes consisted roughly of what now constitutes chapters one and two of the book Raja--Yoga and the morning, or advanced, classes, of his introduction to Patanjali's "Yoga Aphorisms" and his commentary on about half of its first chapter. On Monday, December 23, Swamiji wrote to Mr. Sturdy, "I have now taken up the Yoga Sutras, and take them up one by one and go through all the commentaries along with them. These talks are all taken down, and when completed will form the fullest annotated translation of Patanjali in English. Of course it will be a rather big work. At first Swamiji seems to have followed this plan. "The words dropped in my last letter were Yoga ¬Sutra which I am translating, with notes from various authorities," he wrote again to Sturdy on January 16 1896. "I want to incorporate the chapter in Kurma-Purana in my notes. But as it turned out, the big, scholarly, and annotated work he had contemplated was not written. Instead, as he would write in his preface to Raja-Yoga, his "Yoga Aphorisms" consist of "a rather free translation of the aphorisms (sutras) of Patanjali, with a running commentary." "Effort," he continued, "has been made to avoid technicalities as far as possible, and to keep to the free and easy style of conversation.

Swamiji's "Yoga Aphorisms" are indeed without technicalities or complexities, so much so that from time to time since the publication of Raja-Yoga the question has arisen in the minds of its students if the commentaries are not, in part at least, transcribed class talks, as his letter of December 23 to Mr. Sturdy would seem to indicate, rather than dictations to Miss Waldo, as has been generally supposed. Certainly Miss Waldo played a large part in Swamiji's work of translating the Sutras, sitting with him in the back parlor on quiet afternoons. "Those cherished hours of work on it were specially happy ones for her," Sister Devamata writes. "She often spoke of them. Each day when the Swami's meal had been prepared and her tasks in the kitchen were done, she would come up to the back parlour where Swamiji lodged; take her seat at the table, on which stood an open ink-well; and dip her pen in the ink. Miss Waldo's own account of those sessions has been quoted in the Life; but it will bear repeating here. "It was inspiring to see the Swami as he dictated to me the contents of the work ", she wrote. "In delivering his commentaries on the Sutras, he would leave me waiting while he entered deep states of meditation or self contemplation, to emerge therefrom with some luminous interpretation. I had always to keep the pen dipped in the ink. He might be absorbed for long periods of time and then suddenly his silence would be broken by some eager expression or some long deliberate teaching.

But did Swamiji dictate the whole of what is now known as his commentary on the Yoga Sutras to Miss Waldo? It has recently become certain that he did not. Even with the conclusive evidence now available (of which more in a moment) the tone of the commentaries leads one to guess, as mentioned above, that they are class talks. Indeed one finds a few ex¬pressions that would seem definitely to indicate that Swamiji was speaking to a group. For instance: "Most of you ladies play the piano"; "Some of this I have told you before"; "The system of Yoga is built entirely on the philosophy of the Sankhya, as I told you in some of the previous lectures. Now perhaps you have remarked that when I talk on subjects in which I take a few ideas that are familiar to everyone, and combine, and recombine them, it is easy to follow, because these channels are present in everyone's brain.But while these scattered clues have long led to many a suspicion, only recently have we come upon conclusive evidence that such suspicions have been correct: Swamiji's advanced raja yoga classes in December, January, and February did indeed consist of his introduction to and running commentary on Patanjali's Yoga Aphorisms. For this certainty we can thank, initially, Swami Kripananda, whose laboriously typed transcripts of these classes have recently come to light.*_x000d_ * At the date of this writing, six of Kripananda transcripts of Swamiji's advanced raja yoga classes have come to light. Four of these have been made available through the kindness of Mrs. Sylvea Bull Curtis and two through the kindness of the Vedanta Centre at Cohasset, Massachusetts. The last of these six transcripts is dated February 1, 1896, and is Swamiji's commentary on chapter two, numbers 19 through 24 of the Yoga Aphorisms. It can be assumed that he continued and completed his commentary on all the aphorisms on the mornings of February 8, 15, and 22._x000d_ _x000d_ (A number of Kripananda's typed transcripts of Swamiji's bhakti, karma, and jnana yoga classes have also been recently discovered. To judge from Kripananda's letters to Mrs. Bull, none of his transcripts are typed from his own shorthand, but, rather, copied from Goodwin's transcripts.)

But there is no reason to suppose thereby that Swamiji did not also dictate to Miss Waldo translations of the Aphorisms, some of the deeply thought-out ideas contained in his commentaries, and his short appendix to Raja--Yoga, which last consists of references to yoga from various Sanskrit texts other than Patanjali's Yoga Sutras. As it appears in Raja-Yoga, then, "Yoga Aphorisms" very probably consists of a combination of Swamiji's dictation to Miss Waldo and Goodwin's (not, I believe, Kripananda's) transcripts of his advanced raja yoga classes-all much edited 1by Miss Waldo, Swamiji himself, and, later on, Mr. Sturdy.

The philosophers who wrote on Bhakti defined it as extreme love for God. Why a man should love God is the question to be solved; and until we understand that, we shall not be able to grasp the subject at all. There are two entirely different ideals of life. A man of any country who has any religion knows that he is a body and a spirit also. But there is a great deal of difference as to the goal of human life._x000d_ In Western countries, as a rule, people lay more stress on the body aspect of man; those philosophers who wrote on Bhakti in India laid stress on the spiritual side of man; and this difference seems to be typical of the Oriental and Occidental nations. It is so even in common language. In England, when speaking of death it is said, a man gave up his ghost; in India, a man gave up his body. The one idea is that man is a body and has a soul; the other that man is a soul and has a body. More intricate problems arise out of this. It naturally follows that the ideal which holds that man is a body and has a soul lays all the stress on the body. If you ask why man lives, you will be told it is to enjoy the senses, to enjoy possessions and wealth. He cannot dream of anything beyond even if he is told of it; his idea of a future life would be a continuation of this enjoyment. He is very sorry that it cannot continue all the time here, but he has to depart; and he thinks that somehow or other he will go to some place where the same thing will be renewed. He will have the same enjoyments, the same senses, only heightened and strengthened. He wants to worship God, because God is the means to attain this end. The goal of his life is enjoyment of sense-objects, and he comes to know there is a Being who can give him a very long lease of these enjoyments, and that is why he worships God._x000d_ On the other hand the Indian idea is that God is the goal of life; there is nothing beyond God, and the sense-enjoyments are simply something through which we are passing now in the hope of getting better things. Not only so; it would be disastrous and terrible if man had nothing but sense-enjoyments. In our everyday life we find that the less the sense-enjoyments, the higher the life of the man. Look at the dog when he eats. No man ever ate with the same satisfaction. Observe the pig giving grunts of satisfaction as he eats; it is his heaven, and if the greatest archangel came and looked on, the pig would not even notice him. His whole existence is in his eating. No man was ever born who could eat that way. Think of the power of hearing in lower animals, the power of seeing; all their senses are highly developed. Their enjoyment of the senses is extreme; they become simply mad with delight and pleasure. And the lower the man also, the more delight he finds in the senses. As he gets higher, the goal becomes reason and love. In proportion as these faculties develop, he loses the power of enjoying the senses._x000d_ For illustration's sake, if we take for granted that a certain amount of power is given to man, and that that can be spent either on the body, or the mind, or the spirit, then all the powers spent on any one of these leaves just so much less to be expended on the others. The ignorant or savage races have much stronger sensual faculties than the civilised races, and this is, in fact, one of the lessons we learn from history that as a nation becomes civilised the nerve organisation becomes finer, and they become physically weaker. Civilise a savage race, and you will find the same thing; another barbarian race comes up and conquers it. It is nearly always the barbarian race that conquers. We see then that if we desire only to have sense-enjoyments all the time, we degrade ourselves to the brute state. A man does not know what he is asking for when he says, he wants to go to a place where his sense-enjoyments will be intensified; that he can only have by going down to the brutes._x000d_ So with men desiring a heaven full of sense-pleasures. They are like swine wallowing in the mire of the senses, unable to see anything beyond. This sense-enjoyment is what they want, and the loss of it is the loss of heaven to them. These can never be Bhaktas in the highest sense of the word; they can never be true lovers of God. At the same time, though this lower ideal be followed for a time, it will also in course of time change, each man will find that there is something higher, of which he did not know, and so this clinging to life and to things of the senses will gradually die away. When I was a little boy at school, I had a fight with another schoolfellow about some sweetmeats, and he being the stronger boy snatched them from my hand. I remember the feeling I had; I thought that boy was the most wicked boy ever born, and that as soon as I grew strong enough I would punish him; there was no punishment sufficient for his wickedness. We have both grown up now, and we are fast friends. This world is full of babies to whom eating and drinking, and all these little cakes are everything. They will dream of these cakes, and their idea of future life is where these cakes will be plentiful. Think of the American Indian who believes that his future life will be in a place which is a very good hunting ground. Each one of us has an ideal of heaven just as we want it to be; but in course of time, as we grow older and see higher things, we catch higher glimpses beyond. But let us not dispense with our ideas of future life in the ordinary way of modern times, by not believing in anything--that is destruction. The agnostic who thus destroys everything is mistaken; the Bhakta sees higher. The agnostic does not want to go to heaven, because he has none; while the Bhakta does not want to go to heaven, because he thinks it is child's play. What he wants is God._x000d_ What can be a higher end than God? God Himself is the highest goal of man; see Him, enjoy Him. We can never conceive anything higher, because God is perfection. We cannot conceive of any higher enjoyment than that of love, but this word love has different meanings. It does not mean the ordinary selfish love of the world; it is blasphemy to call that love. The love for our children and our wives is mere animal love; that love which is perfectly unselfish is the only love, and that is of God. It is a very difficult thing to attain to. We are passing through all these different loves--love of children, father, mother, and so forth. We slowly exercise the faculty of love; but in the majority of cases we never learn anything from it, we become bound to one step, to one person. In some cases men come out of this bondage. Men are ever running after wives and wealth and fame in this world; sometimes they are hit very hard on the head, and they find out what this world really is. No one in this world can really love anything but God. Man finds out that human love is all hollow. Men cannot love though they talk of it. The wife says she loves her husband and kisses him; but as soon as he dies, the first thing she thinks about is the bank account, and what she shall do the next day. The husband loves the wife; but when she becomes sick and loses her beauty, or becomes haggard, or makes a mistake, he ceases to care for her. All the love of the world is hypocrisy and hollowness._x000d_ A finite subject cannot love, nor a finite object be loved. When the object of the love of a man is dying every moment, and his mind is also constantly changing as he grows, what eternal love can you expect to find in the world? There cannot be any real love but in God: why then all these loves? These are mere stages. There is a power behind impelling us forward, we do not know where to seek for the real object, but this love is sending us forward in search of it. Again and again we find out our mistake. We grasp something, and find it slips through our fingers, and then we grasp something else. Thus on and on we go, till at last comes light; we come to God, the only One who loves. His love knows no change and is ever ready to take us in. How long would any of you bear with me if I injured you? He in whose mind is no anger, hatred, or envy, who never loses his balance, dies, or is born, who is he but God? But the path of God is long and difficult, and very few people attain Him. We are all babies struggling. Millions of people make a trade of religion. A few men in a century attain to that love of God, and the whole country becomes blessed and hallowed. When a son of God appears, a whole country becomes blessed. It is true that few such are born in any one century in the whole world, but all should strive to attain that love of God. Who knows but you or I may be the next to attain? Let us struggle therefore._x000d_ We say that a wife loves her husband. She thinks that her whole soul is absorbed in him: a baby comes, and half of it goes out to the baby, or more. She herself will feel that the same love of husband does not exist now. So with the father. We always find that when more intense objects of love come to us, the previous love slowly vanishes. Children at school think that some of their schoolfellows are the dearest beings that they have in life, or their fathers or mothers are so; then comes the husband or wife, and immediately the old feeling disappears, and the new love becomes uppermost. One star arises, another bigger one comes, and then a still bigger one, and at last the sun comes, and all the lesser lights vanish. That sun is God. The stars are the smaller loves. When that Sun bursts upon him, a man becomes mad, what Emerson calls "a God-intoxicated man". Man becomes transfigured into God, everything is merged in that one ocean of love. Ordinary love is mere animal attraction. Otherwise why is the distinction between the sexes? If one kneels before an image, it is dreadful idolatry; but if one kneels before husband or wife, it is quite permissible!_x000d_ The world presents to us manifold stages of love. We have first to clear the ground. Upon our view of life the whole theory of love will rest. To think that this world is the aim and end of life is brutal and degrading. Any man who starts in life with that idea degenerates himself. He will never rise higher, he will never catch this glimpse from behind, he will always be a slave to the senses. He will struggle for the dollar that will get him a few cakes to eat. Better die than live that life. Slaves of this world, slaves of the senses, let us rouse ourselves; there is something higher than this sense-life. Do you think that man, the Infinite Spirit was born to be a slave to his eyes, his nose, and his ears? There is an Infinite, Omniscient Spirit behind that can do everything, break every bond; and that Spirit we are, and we get that power through love. This is the ideal we must remember. We cannot, of course, get it in a day. We may fancy that we have it, but it is a fancy after all; it is a long, long way off. We must take man where he stands, and help him upwards. Man stands in materialism; you and I are materialists. Our talking about God and Spirit is good; but it is simply the vogue in our society to talk thus: we have learnt it parrot-like and repeat it. So we have to take ourselves where we are as materialists, and must take the help of matter and go on slowly until we become real spiritualists, and feel ourselves spirits, understand the spirit, and find that this world which we call the infinite is but a gross external form of that world which is behind._x000d_ But something besides that is necessary. You read in the Sermon on the Mount, "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." The difficulty is, who seeks, and who wants? We all say we know God. One man writes a book to disprove God, another to prove Him. One man thinks it his duty to prove Him all his life; another, to disprove Him, and he goes about to teach man there is no God. What is the use of writing a book either to prove or disprove God? What does it matter to most people whether there is a God or not? The majority of men work just like a machine with no thought of God and feeling no need of Him. Then one day comes Death and says, "Come." The man says, "Wait a little, I want a little more time. I want to see my son grow a little bigger." But Death says, "Come at once." So it goes on. So goes poor John. What shall we say to poor John? He never found anything in which God was the highest; perhaps he was a pig in the past, and he is much better as a man. But there are some who get a little awakening. Some misery comes, someone whom we love most dies, that upon which we had bent our whole soul, that for which we had cheated the whole world and perhaps our own brother, that vanishes, and a blow comes to us. Perhaps a voice comes in our soul and asks, "What after this?" Sometimes death comes without a blow, but such cases are few. Most of us, when anything slips through our fingers, say, "What next?" How we cling to the senses! You have heard of a drowning man clutching at a straw; a man will clutch at a straw first, and when it fails, he will say someone must help him. Still people must, as the English phrase goes, "sow their wild oats", before they can rise to higher things._x000d_ Bhakti is a religion. Religion is not for the many, that is impossible. A sort of knee-drill, standing up and sitting down, may be suited for the many; but religion is for the few. There are in every country only a few hundreds who can be, and will be religious. The others cannot be religious, because they will not be awakened, and they do not want to be. The chief thing is to want God. We want everything except God, because our ordinary wants are supplied by the external world; it is only when our necessities have gone beyond the external world that we want a supply from the internal, from God. So long as our needs are confined within the narrow limits of this physical universe, we cannot have any need for God; it is only when we have become satiated with everything there that we look beyond for a supply. It is only when the need is there that the demand will come. Have done with this child's play of the world as soon as you can, and then you will feel the necessity of something beyond the world, and the first step in religion will come._x000d_ There is a form of religion which is fashionable. My friend has much furniture in her parlour; it is the fashion to have a Japanese vase, so she must have one even if it costs a thousand dollars. In the same way she will have a little religion and join a church. Bhakti is not for such. That is not want. Want is that without which we cannot live. We want breath, we want food, we want clothes; without them we cannot live. When a man loves a woman in this world, there are times when he feels that without her he cannot live, although that is a mistake. When a husband dies, the wife thinks she cannot live without him; but she lives all the same. This is the secret of necessity: it is that without which we cannot live; either it must come to us or we die. When the time comes that we feel the same about God, or in other words, we want something beyond this world, something above all material forces, then we may become Bhaktas. What are our little lives when for a moment the cloud passes away, and we get one glimpse from beyond, and for that moment all these lower desires seem like a drop in the ocean? Then the soul grows, and feels the want of God, and must have Him._x000d_ The first step is: What do we want? Let us ask ourselves this question every day, do we want God? You may read all the books in the universe, but this love is not to be had by the power of speech, not by the highest intellect, not by the study of various sciences. He who desires God will get Love, unto him God gives Himself. Love is always mutual, reflective. You may hate me, and if I want to love you, you repulse me. But if I persist, in a month or a year you are bound to love me. It is a well-known psychological phenomenon. As the loving wife thinks of her departed husband, with the same love we must desire the Lord, and then we will find God, and all books and the various sciences would not be able to teach us anything. By reading books we become parrots; no one becomes learned by reading books. If a man reads but one word of love, he indeed becomes learned. So we want first to get that desire._x000d_ Let us ask ourselves each day, "Do we want God?" When we begin to talk religion, and especially when we take a high position and begin to teach others, we must ask ourselves the same question. I find many times that I don't want God, I want bread more. I may go mad if I don't get a piece of bread; many ladies will go mad if they don't get a diamond pin, but they do not have the same desire for God; they do not know the only Reality that is in the universe. There is a proverb in our language--If I want to be a hunter, I'll hunt the rhinoceros; if I want to be a robber, I'll rob the king's treasury. What is the use of robbing beggars or hunting ants? So if you want to love, love God. Who cares for these things of the world? This world is utterly false; all the great teachers of the world found that out; there is no way out of it but through God. He is the goal of our life; all ideas that the world is the goal of life are pernicious. This world and this body have their own value, a secondary value, as a means to an end; but the world should not be the end. _x000d_ Unfortunately, too often we make the world the end and God the means. We find people going to church and saying, "God, give me such and such; God, heal my disease." They want nice healthy bodies; and because they hear that someone will do this work for them, they go and pray to Him. It is better to be an atheist than to have such an idea of religion. As I have told you, this Bhakti is the highest ideal; I don't know whether we shall reach it or not in millions of years to come, but we must make it our highest ideal, make our senses aim at the highest. If we cannot get to the end, we shall at last come nearer to it. We have slowly to work through the world and the senses to reach God.

228 West 39th Street_x000d_ New York_x000d_ 16th December, 1895_x000d_ Blessed and Beloved {E. T. Sturdy},_x000d_ All your letters reached by one mail today. Miss Muller also writes me one. She has read in the Indian Mirror that Swami Krishnananda is coming over to England. If that is so, he is the strongest man that I can get._x000d_ The classes I had here were six in the week, besides a question class. The general attendance varies between 70 to 120. Besides every Sunday I have a public lecture. The last month my lectures were in a small hall holding about 600. But 900 will come as a rule, 300 standing, and about 300 going off, not finding room. This week therefore I have a bigger hall, with a capacity of holding 1200 people._x000d_ There is no admission charged in these lectures, but a collection covers the rent. The newspapers have taken me up this week, and altogether I have stirred up New York considerably this year. If I could have remained here this summer and organised a summer place, the work would be going on sure foundations here. But as I intended to come over in May to England, I shall have to leave it unfinished. If, however, Krishnananda comes to England, and you find him strong and able, and if you find the work in London will not be hurt by my absence this summer, I would rather be here this summer._x000d_ Again, I am afraid my health is breaking down under constant work. I want some rest. We are so unused to these Western methods, especially the keeping to time. I will leave you to decide all these. The Brahmavadin is going on here very satisfactorily. I have begun to write articles on Bhakti; also send them a monthly account of the work. Miss Muller wants to come to America. I do not know whether she will or not. Some friends here are publishing my Sunday lectures. I have sent you a few copies of the first one. I shall send you next mail a few of the next two lectures, and if you like them I shall ask them to send you a number. Can you manage to get a few hundred copies sold in England? That will encourage them in publishing the subsequent ones._x000d_ Next month I go to Detroit, then to Boston, and Harvard University. Then I shall have a rest, and then I come to England, unless you think that things go on without me and with Krishnananda._x000d_ Ever yours with love and blessings,_x000d_ Vivekananda

As we have seen earlier, Swamiji's bhakti yoga classes were held in December on Mondays-two classes on the sixteenth and two on the twenty-third. These were all beginners’ classes; nor do the original transcripts of them constitute, as one might suppose, the first chapters of Swamiji's book Bhakti-yoga. Rather, they are published in volume four of the Complete Works as the first four sections of "Addresses on Bhakti-Yoga."* Indeed, the "Addresses on Bhakti-Yoga" comprise six of the seven (or perhaps nine) bhakti yoga classes for beginners (both morning and evening) that Swamiji held in December and January of this second season, it is owing to a blessed blunder on the part of Mr. Sturdy that these six have been published._x000d_ * "Addresses on Bhakti-Yoga" (Complete Works, 4: 3¬60), together with Swamiji's New York lecture "Bhakti Yoga" or, as in the Complete Works (2 : 38-53), "Bhakti or Devotion," constitute the book Religion of Love by Swami Vivekananda (Calcutta: Udbodhan Office, 1907).

As the bhakti yoga classes (and other classes as well) were taken down and transcribed, they were sent to Mr. Sturdy in England for the classes he was there conducting. "I will send you a copy of each (class lecture] as it is finished," Swamiji informed Sturdy in a heretofore unpublished passage of a letter written on December 23, 1895. "Perhaps you may find in them some suggestions for your classes there. Thinking to promote Swamiji's work in London, Sturdy published the transcripts of the karma yoga classes and those of bhakti yoga in two very well got up little books; he also brought out some of the raja yoga classes in pamphlet form-all without a word to Swamiji. This was to cause no little indignation among the officers of the New York Society, to whom Swamiji had given the rights of publication. The point to be made here, however, is that Mr. Sturdy's rush into print was not wholly unfortunate, for it has preserved for us the classes almost as they came from Swamiji's lips. "These addresses," Sturdy wrote in a note for his publications, ". . . are reprinted with very slight modifications as reported by the shorthand writer. The first part of Bhakti-yoga, on the other hand, while similar in substance (and often in wording) to Swamiji's beginners classes, actually consists of articles written by him in December and January, typed by Swami Kripananda, and sent to Madras for publication in the Brahmavadin and, later, in book form.

It is in the "Addresses," therefore, that we find Swamiji's words as he spoke them directly to the students in his beginners class, scolding them at times for their intellectual scorn of an "anthropomorphic" Personal God and at other times for running after psychic phenomena-ghosts and hobgoblins and "all these creepy things. "Whenever we attempt to make an image of God we make a caricature of Him," he said to the intellectuals, "because we cannot understand Him as anything higher than man, so long as we are men. The time will come when we transcend our human nature, and know Him as He is; but so long as we are men we must worship Him in man. Talk as we may, try as we may, we cannot see God except as a man. . . . Religion is realisation, and you must make the sharpest distinction between talk and realisation….If anyone [other than a Paramahamsa, a knower of God] tells you he is not going to worship God as man, take care of him. He is an irresponsible talker, he is mistaken; his religion is for frothy thinkers, it is intellectual nonsense. This passage, which is also (with variations) in Bhakti—Yoga, continues in "Addresses" alone:

It is absolutely necessary to worship God as man, and blessed are those races which have such a "God-man" to worship. Christians have such a God-man in Christ; therefore, cling close to Christ; never give up Christ. That is the natural way to see God; see God in man. All our ideas of God are concentrated there. The great limitation Christians have is that they do not heed other manifestations of God besides Christ. He was a manifestation of God; so was Buddha; so were some others, and there will be hundreds of others. Do not limit God anywhere. Pay all the reverence that you think due to God, to Christ; that is the only worship we can have. God cannot be worshipped; He is the immanent Being of the universe. It is only to His manifestation as man that we can pray.

And to the mysterymongers he went on to say: _x000d_ But you must not mix up Christ or Buddha with hobgoblins flying through the air, and all that sort of nonsense. Sacrilege! Christ coming into a spiritualistic séance to dance! I have seen that pretence in this country. It is not in that way that these manifestations of God come. The very touch of one of them will be manifest upon a man; when Christ touches, the whole soul of man will change. . . . The great strength of Christ is not in His miracles or His healing. Any fool could do those things, fools can heal others, devils can heal others. I have seen horrible demoniacal men do wonderful miracles…. I have seen fools heal at a glance, by the will, the most horrible disease. These are powers, truly, but often demoniacal powers. . . . So in worshipping Christ, in praying to Him, we must always remember what we are seeking. Not those foolish things of miraculous display, but the wonderful powers of the Spirit which makes man free, gives him control over the whole of nature, takes from him the badge of slavery, and shows God unto him.

Or again Swamiji scolded his class for a "shopkeeping" religion-the asking of God for small material things, among which he included heaven.

The first task in becoming a Bhakta [he said, and I quote from an unedited transcript] is to give up all such desires for material things and even for heaven. Such a heaven would not be much different from this earth. We have here some miseries and some happiness; we will just have a little less, or a little more. There will be no more light than we have here; it will be the result of our good deeds; perhaps plenty to eat, or perhaps very little. Perhaps we will have the power to fly like bats through the air, and jump through walls, and play all sorts of tricks, to dance in some séance room. To my mind, it is better to go to the nether regions than to run a spiritualistic camera. The Christian's idea of heaven is of a place of intensified sensual enjoyment. How can that be God?

You have had such heavens hundreds of times, and had to tumble down again. The question is how to get rid of these laws of nature. . . . We have become so unhinged and unnatural, that nothing natural will satisfy us. Every nerve is full of poison and morbidity, and we are always grasping after morbid things and must have unnatural excitement and unnatural food and drink and surroundings of life. The air must be poisoned first and then we can breathe. As to fear, what are our lives but bundles of fear? We are afraid of catching cold every day, we are afraid of what we eat, we are afraid of man. . . .

How are we to break ourselves of this, that is the question: It is all very well to say we are men and human beings. I find Utilitarians stand up and say, "Don't talk of God and all these things; we can't know anything about them; let us live happily in this world." 1 would be the first to do so if we could, but the world will not allow us. As long as you are a slave of nature, how can you ? . . . This external unquenchable thirst! Always wanting for something. When a man is a beggar he wants money, money, money. When he has money he wants other things -society, and after that something else. Never at rest. How are we to quench this eternal desire? If we get to heaven our desires will only be increased. . . . After all, this desire to go to heaven is a desire after enjoyment. This is to be given up. It is too little, too vulgar a thing to go to heaven for you to think of. It is just the same as thinking I will become a millionaire and a very powerful man. There are many of these heavens, but through them you cannot gain the right to enter the gates of religion and love.

With these words, spoken on the evening of December 23, Swamiji closed his Bhakti yoga classes for the Christmas holidays.

Both Mr. Sturdy's edition of Swamiji's karma yoga classes and the New York edition, which we know today, follow more or less the same sequence of classes, and neither of them gives a hint of which are beginners classes and which advanced. This distinction may not greatly matter, but in trying to follow the morning and evening courses as Swamiji gave them, it would, I think, be helpful to know which is which. I have, therefore, tried to sort them out with the help of Swami Kripananda's dated transcripts, five of which have recently been found among Mrs. Bull's papers. From these one learns that "Karma in Its Effect on Character" arid "We Help Ourselves, Not the World" are beginners classes and that "Each Is Great in His Own Place," "Non-Attachment Is Complete Self Abnegation," and "Freedom" are advanced classes. Around these posts the rest seem to fall into place like this: Beginners Course: "Karma in Its Effect on Character," "What is Duty?" "We Help Our¬selves, Not the World," and "The Ideal of Karma Yoga." Advanced Course: "Each Is Great in His Own Place," "The Secret of Work," "Non-Attachment Is Complete Self Abnegation," and "Freedom."

One finds, I believe, that each of these two sets of four lectures leads the mind from one step to the next without a sense of contradiction, repetition, or confusion. The early practice of karma yoga, in which the aspirant cheerfully and as selflessly as possible performs the duty contingent upon the circumstances of his life, leads to the advanced practice in which the motive of duty is left behind and work is done for its own sake, without compulsion and with the increasing insight and love that come with detachment.

One drawback to this suggested reading of the American edition of Karma-Yoga is that it requires some adjustments or, rather, the undoing of adjustments. It would appear from a comparison with Mr. Sturdy's London edition (now long out of print) that in order to give smoothness and a certain logic to the present sequence of chapters, someone in New York-perhaps Miss Waldo, presumably with Swamiji's consent-made several transpositions, interpolations, and omissions. It would be tedious to describe here all these editorial alterations; let us just say that without them the classes within each series, as listed above, follow easily and obviously one after the other.

As for the main text of the classes, Sturdy's unauthorized but, as he avowed, virtually unedited publication again serves us well. Through its pages, excerpts from which have been published (though not identified) in volume five of the Complete Works, one can hear Swamiji speak freely and energetically to his students of the pitfalls along this spiritual path. Even as he stressed again and again the necessity for practice in every path, for becoming inwardly pure and capable of selfless action, for realizing the truths of religion, so also he pointed out the multiple traps into which one could so easily step, the subtly self serving and self deceiving acts which passed for idealism and virtue but which, in fact, subverted them.

The reformer's single minded zeal was one of the distortions of "selfless activity" that he inveighed against, at times, as in the following passage, amicably and with humor, but tellingly nonetheless:_x000d_ _x000d_ You see these wine fanatics and cigar fanatics. Some [people] think that if men give up smoking cigars the world will be a millennium, and the women are generally these fanatics. . . . There was a young lady here one day, in this class. She was one of a number of ladies in Chicago who have built a little house where they take the working people, and give them some music, and gymnastics. One day this young lady was talking about these evils and said she knew the remedy. I said, "How do you know ?" and she said, "Don't you know the Hull House?"* In her opinion this Hull House is the great panacea for all the evils that the flesh is heir to. This will grow upon her; I am very sorry for her. There are some fanatics in India who think if a woman can get two or three husbands it will cure all evil. This is fanaticism, and when you know that this world is a dog's curly tail and will never straighten, you will never be fanatics. Fanatics can never do real work. When I was a boy I thought that fanaticism was a great element in work, but now, as I grow older, I find out that it is not. If there was no fanaticism in the world the world would make much more progress than it does now. . . . There may be a man who goes about cheating people, there is no trusting him, no woman is safe near him. But perhaps that blackguard does not drink wine. He sees nothing good in anyone who drinks wine; all these wicked things that he does are of no consideration. It is the natural human selfishness and onesidedness. Whatever you do or possess you think the best in the world, and those things you do not possess are of no value. . . . Do you not remember in your own history how these "Mayflower" people came and began to call themselves Puritans; they were very pure and good as far as they went, until they began to persecute other people, and throughout the history of humanity it is the same. I have read of two wonderful ships. The first was Noah's Ark and the second the "Mayflower." The Jews say that out of Noah's Ark all creation has come, and the Americans say that out of the "Mayflower" nearly half the people have come. I scarcely meet one who does not say, "My grandfather or great-grandfather came out of the `Mayflower'."_x000d_ * Hull House was the famous Settlement House in Chicago founded in 1889 by Jane Addams. Swamiji did not of course discredit its charitable service of the poor-except as a solution in itself to all the ills of the world.

...Fanatics only make hatred in the world. Do you mean to say these fanatics love these poor fellows who become drunkards? They are simply fanatics because they want to get something out of it. . . . They have no sympathy, and as soon as you come out of the company of fanatics you will begin to love and to sympathise, and the more you get of this love and sympathy, the less will be the power of cursing these poor fellows, but you will sympathise rather with their faults.

There are two worlds, the microcosm, and the macrocosm, the internal and the external. We get truth from both of these by means of experience. The truth gathered from internal experience is psychology, metaphysics, and religion; from external experience, the physical sciences. Now a perfect truth should be in harmony with experiences in both these worlds. The microcosm must bear testimony to the macrocosm, and the macrocosm to the microcosm; physical truth must have its counterpart in the internal world, and the internal world must have its verification outside. Yet, as a rule, we find that many of these truths are in conflict. At one period of the world's history, the internals become supreme, and they begin to fight the externals. At the present time the externals, the physicists, have become supreme, and they have put down many claims of psychologists and metaphysicians. So far as my knowledge goes, I find that the real, essential parts of psychology are in perfect accord with the essential parts of modern physical knowledge. It is not given to one individual to be great in every respect; it is not given to one race or nation to be equally strong in the research of all fields of knowledge. The modern European nations are very strong in their research of external physical knowledge, but they are not so strong in their study of the inner nature of man. On the other hand, the Orientals have not been very strong in their researches of the external physical world, but very strong in their researches of the internal. Therefore we find that Oriental physics and other sciences are not in accordance with Occidental Science; nor is Occidental psychology in harmony with Oriental psychology. The Oriental physicists have been routed by Occidental scientists. At the same time, each claims to rest on truth; and as we stated before, real truth in any field of knowledge will not contradict itself; the truths internal are in harmony with the truths external._x000d_ We all know the theories of the cosmos according to the modern astronomers and physicists; and at the same time we all know how woefully they undermine the theology of Europe, how these scientific discoveries that are made act as a bomb thrown at its stronghold; and we know how theologians have in all times attempted to put down these researches._x000d_ I want here to go over the psychological ideas of the Orientals about cosmology and all that pertains to it, and you will find how wonderfully they are in accordance with the latest discoveries of modern science; and where there is disharmony, you will find that it is modern science which lacks and not they. We all use the word nature. The old Sankhya philosophers called it by two different names, Prakriti, which is very much the same as the word nature, and the more scientific name, Avyakta, undifferentiated, from which everything proceeds, such as atoms, molecules, and forces, mind, thought, intelligence. It is startling to find that the philosophers and metaphysicians of India stated ages ago that mind is material. What are our present materialists trying to do, but to show that mind is as much a product of nature as the body? And so is thought, and, we shall find by and by, intelligence also: all issue from that nature which is called Avyakta, the undifferentiated. The Sankhyas define it as the equilibrium of three forces, one of which is called Sattva, another Rajas, and the third Tamas. Tamas, the lowest force, is that of attraction; a little higher is Rajas, that of repulsion; and the highest is the balance of these two, Sattva; so that when these two forces, attraction and repulsion, are held in perfect control by the Sattva there is no creation, no movement in the world. As soon as this equilibrium is lost, the balance is disturbed, and one of these forces gets stronger than the other, motion sets in, and creation begins. This state of things goes on cyclically, periodically. That is to say, there is a period of disturbance of the balance, when forces begin to combine and recombine, and things project outwards. At the same time, everything has a tendency to go back to the primal state of equilibrium, and the time comes when that total annihilation of all manifestation is reached. Again, after a period, the whole thing is disturbed, projected outwards, and again it slowly goes down--like waves. All motion, everything in this universe, can be likened to waves undergoing successive rise and fall. Some of these philosophers hold that the whole universe quiets down for a period. Others hold that this quieting down applies only to systems; that is to say, that while our system here, this solar system, will quiet down and go back into the undifferentiated state, millions of other systems will go the other way, and will project outwards. I should favor the second opinion, that this quieting down is not simultaneous over the whole of the universe, and that in different parts different things go on. But the principle remains the same, that all we see--that is, nature herself--is progressing in successive rises and falls. The one stage, falling down, going back to balance, the perfect equilibrium, is called Pralaya, the end of a cycle. The projection and the Pralaya of the universe have been compared by theistical writers in India to the outbreathing and inbreathing of God; God, as it were, breathes out the universe, and it comes into Him again. When it quiets down, what becomes of the universe? It exists, only in finer forms, in the form of cause, as it is called in the Sankhya philosophy. It does not get rid of causation, time, and space; they are there, only it comes to very fine and minute forms. Supposing that this whole universe begins to shrink, till every one of us becomes just a little molecule, we should not feel the change at all, because everything relating to us would be shrinking at the same time. The whole thing goes down, and again projects out, the cause brings out the effect, and so it goes on._x000d_ What we call matter in modern times was called by the ancient psychologists Bhutas, the external elements. There is one element which, according to them, is eternal; every other element is produced out of this one. It is called Akasha. It is somewhat similar to the idea of ether of the moderns, though not exactly similar. Along with this element, there is the primal energy called Prana. Prana and Akasha combine and recombine and form the elements out of them. Then at the end of the Kalpa everything subsides, and goes back to Akasha and Prana. There is in the Rig-Veda, the oldest human writing in existence, a beautiful passage describing creation, and it is most poetical--"When there was neither aught nor naught, when darkness was rolling over darkness, what existed?" and the answer is given, "It then existed without vibration". This Prana existed then, but there was no motion in it; Anidavatam means "existed without vibration". Vibration had stopped. Then when the Kalpa begins, after an immense interval, the Anidavatam (unvibrating atom) commences to vibrate, and blow after blow is given by Prana to Akasha. The atoms become condensed, and as they are condensed different elements are formed. We generally find these things very curiously translated; people do not go to the philosophers or the commentators for their translation, and have not the brains to understand them themselves. A silly man reads three letters of Sanskrit and translates a whole book. They translate the elements as air, fire, and so on; if they would go to the commentators, they would find they do not mean air or anything of that sort. _x000d_ The Akasha, acted upon by the repeated blows of Prana, produces Vayu or vibrations. This Vayu vibrates, and the vibrations growing more and more rapid result in friction giving rise to heat, Tejas. Then this heat ends in liquefaction, Apah. Then that liquid becomes solid. We had ether, and motion, then came heat, then it became liquefied, and then it condensed into gross matter; and it goes back in exactly the reverse way. The solid will be liquefied and will then be converted into a mass of heat, and that will slowly get back into motion; that motion will stop, and this Kalpa will be destroyed. Then, again it will come back and again dissolve into ether. Prana cannot work alone without the help of Akasha. All that we know in the form of motion, vibration, or thought is a modification of the Prana, and everything that we know in the shape of matter, either as form or as resistance, is a modification of the Akasha. The Prana cannot live alone, or act without a medium; when it is pure Prana, it has the Akasha itself to live in, and when it changes into forces of nature, say gravitation, or centrifugal force, it must have matter. You have never seen force without matter or matter without force; what we call force and matter are simply the gross manifestations of these same things, which, when superfine, are called Prana and Akasha. Prana you can call in English life, the vital force; but you must not restrict it to the life of man; at the same time you must not identify it with Spirit, Atman. So this goes on. Creation cannot have either a beginning or an end; it is an eternal on-going._x000d_ We shall state another position of these old psychologists, which is that all gross things are the results of fine ones. Everything that is gross is composed of fine things, which they call the Tanmatras, the fine particles. I smell a flower. To smell, something must come in contact with my nose; the flower is there, but I do not see it move towards me. That which comes from the flower and in contact with my nose is called the Tanmatra, fine molecules of that flower. So with heat, light and everything. These Tanmatras can again be subdivided into atoms. Different philosophers have different theories, and we know these are only theories. It is sufficient for our purpose to know that everything gross is composed of things that are very, very fine. We first get the gross elements which we feel externally, and then come the fine elements with which the nose, eyes, and ears come in contact. Ether waves touch my eyes; I cannot see them, yet I know they must come in contact with my eyes before I can see light._x000d_ Here are the eyes, but the eyes do not see. Take away the brain centre; the eyes will still be there, as also the picture of the outside world complete on the retinae; yet the eyes will not see. So the eyes are only a secondary instrument, not the organ of vision. The organ of vision is the nerve-centre in the brain. Likewise the nose is an instrument, and there is an organ behind it. The senses are simply the external instruments. It may be said that these different organs, Indriyas, as they are called in Sanskrit, are the real seats of perception._x000d_ It is necessary for the mind to be joined to an organ to perceive. It is a common experience that we do not hear the clock strike when we happen to be buried in study. Why? The ear was there, the sound was carried through it to the brain; yet it was not heard, because the mind did not attach itself to the organ of hearing._x000d_ There is a different organ for each different instrument. For, if one served for all, we should find that when the mind joined itself to it, all the senses would be equally active. But it is not so, as we have seen from the instance of the clock. If there was only one organ for all the instruments, the mind would see and hear at the same time, would see and hear and smell at the same time, and it would be impossible for it not to do all these at one and the same time. Therefore it is necessary that there should be a separate organ for each sense. This has been borne out by modern physiology. It is certainly possible for us to hear and see at the same time, but that is because the mind attaches itself partially to the two centres. _x000d_ What are the organs made of? We see that the instruments--eyes, nose, and ears--are made of gross materials. The organs are also made of matter. Just as the body is composed of gross materials, and manufactures Prana into different gross forces, so the organs are composed of the fine elements, Akasha, Vayu, Tejas, etc., and manufacture Prana into the finer forces of perception. The organs, the Prana functions, the mind and the Buddhi combined, are called the finer body of man--the Linga or Sukshma Sharira. The Linga Sharira has a real form because everything material must have a form._x000d_ The mind is called the Manas, the Chitta in Vritti or vibrating, the unsettled state. If you throw a stone in a lake, first there will be vibration, and then resistance. For a moment the water will vibrate and then it will react on the stone. So when any impression comes on the Chitta, it first vibrates a little. That is called the Manas. The mind carries the impression farther in, and presents it to the determinative faculty, Buddhi, which reacts. Behind Buddhi is Ahamkara, egoism, the self-consciousness which says, "I am". Behind Ahamkara is Mahat, intelligence, the highest form of nature's existence. Each one is the effect of the succeeding one. In the case of the lake, every blow that comes to it is from the external world, while in the case of the mind, the blow may come either from the external or the internal world. Behind the intelligence is the Self of man, the Purusha, the Atman, the pure, the perfect, who alone is the seer, and for whom is all this change._x000d_ Man looks on all these changes; he himself is never impure; but through what the Vedantists call Adhyasa, by reflection, by implication, he seems to be impure. It is like the appearance of a crystal when a red or a blue flower is brought before it: the colour is reflected on it, but the crystal itself is pure. We shall take it for granted that there are many selves, and each self is pure and perfect; various kinds of gross and fine matter superimpose themselves on the self and make it multicoloured. Why does nature do all this? Nature is undergoing all these changes for the development of the soul; all this creation is for the benefit of the soul, so that it may be free. This immense book which we call the universe is stretched out before man so that he may read: and he discovers eventually that he is an omniscient and omnipotent being. I must here tell you that some of our best psychologists do not believe in God in the sense in which you believe in Him. The father of our psychology, Kapila, denies the existence of God. His idea is that a Personal God is quite unnecessary; nature itself is sufficient to work out the whole of creation. What is called the Design Theory, he knocked on the head, and said that a more childish theory was never advanced. But he admits a peculiar kind of God. He says we are all struggling to get free; and when we become free, we can, as it were, melt away into nature, only to come out at the beginning of the next cycle and be its ruler. We come out omniscient and omnipotent beings. In that sense we can be called Gods: you and I and the humblest beings can be Gods in different cycles. He says such a God will be temporal; but an eternal God, eternally omnipotent and ruler of the universe, cannot be. If there was such a God, there would be this difficulty: He must be either a bound spirit or a free one. A God who is perfectly free would not create; there is no necessity for it. If He were bound, He would not create, because He could not: He would be powerless. In either case, there cannot be any omniscient or omnipotent eternal ruler. In our scriptures, wherever the word God is mentioned, he says, it means those human beings who have become free._x000d_ Kapila does not believe in the unity of all souls. His analysis, so far as it goes, is simply marvellous. He is the father of Indian thinkers; Buddhism and other systems are the outcome of his thought. _x000d_ According to his psychology, all souls can regain their freedom and their natural rights, which are omnipotence and omniscience. But the question arises: Where is this bondage? Kapila says it is without beginning. But if it is without beginning, it must be without end, and we shall never be free. He says that though bondage is without beginning, it is not of that constant uniform character as the soul is. In other words, nature (the cause of bondage) is without beginning and end, but not in the same sense as soul, because nature has no individuality; it is like a river which gets a fresh body of water every moment; the sum total of these bodies of water is the river, but the river is not a constant quantity. Everything in nature is constantly changing, but the soul never changes; so, as nature is always changing, it is possible for the soul to come out of its bondage._x000d_ The whole of the universe is built upon the same plan as a part of it. So, just as I have a mind, there is a cosmic mind. As in the individual, so in the universal. There is the universal gross body; behind that, a universal fine body; behind that, a universal mind; behind that, a universal egoism, or consciousness; and behind that, a universal intelligence. And all this is in nature, the manifestation of nature, not outside of it._x000d_ We have gross bodies from our parents, as also our consciousness. Strict heredity says my body is a part of my parents' bodies, the material of my consciousness and egoism is a part of my parents'. We can add to the little portion inherited from our parents by drawing upon the universal consciousness. There is an infinite store-house of intelligence out of which we draw what we require; there is an infinite storehouse of mental force in the universe out of which we are drawing eternally; but the seed must come from the parents. Our theory is heredity coupled with reincarnation. By the law of heredity, the reincarnating soul receives from parents the material out of which to manufacture a man._x000d_ Some of the European philosophers have asserted that this world exists because I exist; and if I do not exist, the world will not exist. Sometimes it is stated thus: If all people in the world were to die, and there were no more human beings, and no animals with powers of perception and intelligence, all these manifestations would disappear. But these European philosophers do not know the psychology of it, although they know the principle; modern philosophy has got only a glimpse of it. This becomes easy of understanding when looked at from the Sankhya point of view. According to Sankhya, it is impossible for anything to be, which has not as its material some portion of my mind. I do not know this table as it is. An impression from it comes to the eyes, then to the Indriya, and then to the mind; and the mind reacts, and that reaction is what I call the table. It is just the same as throwing a stone in a lake; the lake throws a wave towards the stone; this wave is what we know. What is external nobody knows; when I try to know it, it has to become that material which I furnish. I, with my own mind, have furnished the material for my eyes. There is something which is outside, which is only the occasion, the suggestion, and upon that suggestion I project my mind; and it takes the form that I see. How do we all see the same things? Because we all have similar parts of the cosmic mind. Those who have like minds will see like things, and those who have not will not see alike.

First among the qualification required of the aspirant for Jnana, or wisdom, come Shama and Dama, which may be taken together. They mean the keeping of the organs in their own centres without allowing them to stray out. I shall explain to you first what the word "organ" means. Here are the eyes; the eyes are not the organs of vision but only the instruments. Unless the organs also are present, I cannot see, even if I have eyes. But, given both the organs and the instruments, unless the mind attaches itself to these two, no vision takes place. So, in each act of perception, three things are necessary--first, the external instruments, then, the internal organs, and lastly, the mind. If any one of them be absent, then there will be no perception. Thus the mind acts through two agencies--one external, and the other internal. When I see things, my mind goes out, becomes externalised; but suppose I close my eyes and begin to think, the mind does not go out, it is internally active. But, in either case, there is activity of the organs. When I look at you and speak to you, both the organs and the instruments are active. When I close my eyes and begin to think, the organs are active, but not the instruments. Without the activity of these organs, there will be no thought. You will find that none of you can think without some symbol. In the case of the blind man, he has also to think through some figure. The organs of sight and hearing are generally very active. You must bear in mind that by the word "organ" is meant the nerve centre in the brain. The eyes and ears are only the instruments of seeing and hearing, and the organs are inside. If the organs are destroyed by any means, even if the eyes or the ears be there, we shall not see or hear. So in order to control the mind, we must first be able to control these organs. To restrain the mind from wandering outward or inward, and keep the organs in their respective centres, is what is meant by the words Shama and Dama. Shama consists in not allowing the mind to externalise, and Dama, in checking the external instruments._x000d_ Now comes Uparati which consists in not thinking of things of the senses. Most of our time is spent in thinking about sense-objects, things which we have seen, or we have heard, which we shall see or shall hear, things which we have eaten, or are eating, or shall eat, places where we have lived, and so on. We think of them or talk of them most of our time. One who wishes to be a Vedantin must give up this habit._x000d_ Then comes the next preparation (it is a hard task to be a philosopher!), Titiksha, the most difficult of all. It is nothing less than the ideal forbearance--"Resist not evil." This requires a little explanation. We may not resist an evil, but at the same time we may feel very miserable. A man may say very harsh things to me, and I may not outwardly hate him for it, may not answer him back, and may restrain myself from apparently getting angry, but anger and hatred may be in my mind, and I may feel very badly towards that man. That is not non-resistance; I should be without any feeling of hatred or anger, without any thought of resistance; my mind must then be as calm as if nothing had happened. And only when I have got to that state, have I attained to non-resistance, and not before. Forbearance of all misery, without even a thought of resisting or driving it out, without even any painful feeling in the mind, or any remorse--this is Titiksha. Suppose I do not resist, and some great evil comes thereby; if I have Titiksha, I should not feel any remorse for not having resisted. When the mind has attained to that state, it has become established in Titiksha. People in India do extraordinary things in order to practise this Titiksha. They bear tremendous heat and cold without caring, they do not even care for snow, because they take no thought for the body; it is left to itself, as if it were a foreign thing._x000d_ The next qualification required is Shraddha, faith. One must have tremendous faith in religion and God. Until one has it, one cannot aspire to be a Jnani. A great sage once told me that not one in twenty millions in this world believed in God. I asked him why, and he told me, "Suppose there is a thief in this room, and he gets to know that there is a mass of gold in the next room, and only a very thin partition between the two rooms; what will be the condition of that thief?" I answered, "He will not be able to sleep at all; his brain will be actively thinking of some means of getting at the gold, and he will think of nothing else." Then he replied, "Do you believe that a man could believe in God and not go mad to get Him? If a man sincerely believes that there is that immense, infinite mine of Bliss, and that It can be reached, would not that man go mad in his struggle to reach It?" Strong faith in God and the consequent eagerness to reach Him constitute Shraddha._x000d_ Then comes Samadhana, or constant practice, to hold the mind in God. Nothing is done in a day. Religion cannot be swallowed in the form of a pill. It requires hard and constant practice. The mind can be conquered only by slow and steady practice._x000d_ Next is Mumukshutva, the intense desire to be free. Those of you who have read Edwin Arnold's Light of Asia remember his translation of the first sermon of Buddha, where Buddha says,_x000d_ "Ye suffer from yourselves. None else compels._x000d_ None other holds you that ye live and die,_x000d_ And whirl upon the wheel, and hug and kiss_x000d_ Its spokes of agony,_x000d_ Its tire of tears, its nave of nothingness."_x000d_ All the misery we have is of our own choosing; such is our nature. The old Chinaman, who having been kept in prison for sixty years was released on the coronation of a new emperor, exclaimed, when he came out, that he could not live; he must go back to his horrible dungeon among the rats and mice; he could not bear the light. So he asked them to kill him or send him back to the prison, and he was sent back. Exactly similar is the condition of all men. We run headlong after all sorts of misery, and are unwilling to be freed from them. Every day we run after pleasure, and before we reach it, we find it is gone, it has slipped through our fingers. Still we do not cease from our mad pursuit, but on and on we go, blinded fools that we are._x000d_ In some oil mills in India, bullocks are used that go round and round to grind the oil-seed. There is a yoke on the bullock's neck. They have a piece of wood protruding from the yoke, and on that is fastened a wisp of straw. The bullock is blindfolded in such a way that it can only look forward, and so it stretches its neck to get at the straw; and in doing so, it pushes the piece of wood out a little further; and it makes another attempt with the same result, and yet another, and so on. It never catches the straw, but goes round and round in the hope of getting it, and in so doing, grinds out the oil. In the same way you and I who are born slaves to nature, money and wealth, wives and children, are always chasing a wisp of straw, a mere chimera, and are going through an innumerable round of lives without obtaining what we seek. The great dream is love; we are all going to love and be loved, we are all going to be happy and never meet with misery, but the more we go towards happiness, the more it goes away from us. Thus the world is going on, society goes on, and we, blinded slaves, have to pay for it without knowing. Study your own lives, and find how little of happiness there is in them, and how little in truth you have gained in the course of this wild-goose chase of the world._x000d_ Do you remember the story of Solon and Croesus? The king said to the great sage that Asia Minor was a very happy place. And the sage asked him, "Who is the happiest man? I have not seen anyone very happy." "Nonsense," said Croesus, "I am the happiest man in the world." "Wait, sir, till the end of your life; don't be in a hurry," replied the sage and went away. In course of time that king was conquered by the Persians, and they ordered him to be burnt alive. The funeral pyre was prepared and when poor Croesus saw it, he cried aloud "Solon! Solon!" On being asked to whom he referred, he told his story, and the Persian emperor was touched, and saved his life._x000d_ Such is the life-story of each one of us; such is the tremendous power of nature over us. It repeatedly kicks us away, but still we pursue it with feverish excitement. We are always hoping against hope this hope, this chimera maddens us; we are always hoping for happiness._x000d_ There was a great king in ancient India who was once asked four questions, of which one was: "What is the most wonderful thing in the world?" "Hope," was the answer. This is the most wonderful thing. Day and night we see people dying around us, and yet we think we shall not die; we never think that we shall die, or that we shall suffer. Each man thinks that success will be his, hoping against hope, against all odds, against all mathematical reasoning. Nobody is ever really happy here. If a man be wealthy and have plenty to eat, his digestion is out of order, and he cannot eat. If a man's digestion be good, and he have the digestive power of a cormorant, he has nothing to put into his mouth. If he be rich, he has no children. If he be hungry and poor, he has a whole regiment of children, and does not know what to do with them. Why is it so? Because happiness and misery are the obverse and reverse of the same coin; he who takes happiness, must take misery also. We all have this foolish idea that we can have happiness without misery, and it has taken such possession of us that we have no control over the senses._x000d_ When I was in Boston, a young man came up to me, and gave me a scrap of paper of which he had written a name and address, followed by these words: "All the wealth and all the happiness of the world are yours, if you only know how to get them. If you come to me, I will teach you how to get them. Charge, $5." He gave me this and said, "What do you think of this?" I said, "Young man, why don't you get the money to print this? You have not even enough money to get this printed!" He did not understand this. He was infatuated with the idea that he could get immense wealth and happiness without any trouble. There are two extremes into which men are running; one is extreme optimism, when everything is rosy and nice and good; the other, extreme pessimism, when everything seems to be against them. The majority of men have more or less undeveloped brains. One in a million we see with a well-developed brain; the rest either have peculiar idiosyncrasies, or are monomaniacs._x000d_ Naturally we run into extremes. When we are healthy and young, we think that all the wealth of the world will be ours, and when later we get kicked about by society like footballs and get older, we sit in a corner and croak and throw cold water on the enthusiasm of others. Few men know that with pleasure there is pain, and with pain, pleasure; and as pain is disgusting, so is pleasure, as it is the twin brother of pain. It is derogatory to the glory of man that he should be going after pain, and equally derogatory, that he should be going after pleasure. Both should be turned aside by men whose reason is balanced. Why will not men seek freedom from being played upon? This moment we are whipped, and when we begin to weep, nature gives us a dollar; again we are whipped, and when we weep, nature gives us a piece of gingerbread, and we begin to laugh again._x000d_ The sage wants liberty; he finds that sense-objects are all vain and that there is no end to pleasures and pains. How many rich people in the world want to find fresh pleasures! All pleasures are old, and they want new ones. Do you not see how many foolish things they are inventing every day, just to titillate the nerves for a moment, and that done, how there comes a reaction? The majority of people are just like a flock of sheep. If the leading sheep falls into a ditch, all the rest follow and break their necks. In the same way, what one leading member of a society does, all the others do, without thinking what they are doing. When a man begins to see the vanity of worldly things, he will feel he ought not to be thus played upon or borne along by nature. That is slavery. If a man has a few kind words said to him, he begins to smile, and when he hears a few harsh words, he begins to weep. He is a slave to a bit of bread, to a breath of air; a slave to dress, a slave to patriotism, to country, to name, and to fame. He is thus in the midst of slavery and the real man has become buried within, through his bondage. What you call man is a slave. When one realises all this slavery, then comes the desire to be free; an intense desire comes. If a piece of burning charcoal be placed on a man's head, see how he struggles to throw it off. Similar will be the struggles for freedom of a man who really understands that he is a slave of nature._x000d_ We have now seen what Mumukshutva, or the desire to be free, is. The next training is also a very difficult one. Nityanitya-Viveka--discriminating between that which is true and that which is untrue, between the eternal and the transitory. God alone is eternal, everything else is transitory. Everything dies; the angels die, men die, animals die, earths die, sun, moon, and stars, all die; everything undergoes constant change. The mountains of today were the oceans of yesterday and will be oceans tomorrow. Everything is in a state of flux. The whole universe is a mass of change. But there is One who never changes, and that is God; and the nearer we get to Him, the less will be the change for us, the less will nature be able to work on us; and when we reach Him, and stand with Him, we shall conquer nature, we shall be masters of these phenomena of nature, and they will have no effect on us._x000d_ You see, if we really have undergone the above discipline, we really do not require anything else in this world. All knowledge is within us. All perfection is there already in the soul. But this perfection has been covered up by nature; layer after layer of nature is covering this purity of the soul. What have we to do? Really we do not develop our souls at all. What can develop the perfect? We simply take the veil off; and the soul manifests itself in its pristine purity, its natural, innate freedom._x000d_ Now begins the inquiry: Why is this discipline so necessary? Because religion is not attained through the ears, nor through the eyes, nor yet through the brain. No scriptures can make us religious. We may study all the books that are in the world, yet we may not understand a word of religion or of God. We may talk all our lives and yet may not be the better for it; we may be the most intellectual people the world ever saw, and yet we may not come to God at all. On the other hand, have you not seen what irreligious men have been produced from the most intellectual training? It is one of the evils of your Western civilisation that you are after intellectual education alone, and take no care of the heart. It only makes men ten times more selfish, and that will be your destruction. When there is conflict between the heart and the brain, let the heart be followed, because intellect has only one state, reason, and within that, intellect works, and cannot get beyond. It is the heart which takes one to the highest plane, which intellect can never reach; it goes beyond intellect, and reaches to what is called inspiration. Intellect can never become inspired; only the heart when it is enlightened, becomes inspired. An intellectual, heartless man never becomes an inspired man. It is always the heart that speaks in the man of love; it discovers a greater instrument than intellect can give you, the instrument of inspiration. Just as the intellect is the instrument of knowledge, so is the heart the instrument of inspiration. In a lower state it is a much weaker instrument than intellect. An ignorant man knows nothing, but he is a little emotional by nature. Compare him with a great professor--what wonderful power the latter possesses! But the professor is bound by his intellect, and he can be a devil and an intellectual man at the same time; but the man of heart can never be a devil; no man with emotion was ever a devil. Properly cultivated, the heart can be changed, and will go beyond intellect; it will be changed into inspiration. Man will have to go beyond intellect in the end. The knowledge of man, his powers of perception, of reasoning and intellect and heart, all are busy churning this milk of the world. Out of long churning comes butter, and this butter is God. Men of heart get the "butter", and the "buttermilk" is left for the intellectual._x000d_ These are all preparations for the heart, for that love, for that intense sympathy appertaining to the heart. It is not at all necessary to be educated or learned to get to God. A sage once told me, "To kill others one must be equipped with swords and shields, but to commit suicide a needle is sufficient; so to teach others, much intellect and learning are necessary, but not so for your own self-illumination." Are you pure? If you are pure, you will reach God. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." If you are not pure, and you know all the sciences in the world, that will not help you at all; you may be buried in all the books you read, but that will not be of much use. It is the heart that reaches the goal. Follow the heart. A pure heart sees beyond the intellect; it gets inspired; it knows things that reason can never know, and whenever there is conflict between the pure heart and the intellect, always side with the pure heart, even if you think what your heart is doing is unreasonable. When it is desirous of doing good to others, your brain may tell you that it is not politic to do so, but follow your heart, and you will find that you make less mistakes than by following your intellect. The pure heart is the best mirror for the reflection of truth, so all these disciplines are for the purification of the heart. And as soon as it is pure, all truths flash upon it in a minute; all truth in the universe will manifest in your heart, if you are sufficiently pure._x000d_ The great truths about atoms, and the finer elements, and the fine perceptions of men, were discovered ages ago by men who never saw a telescope, or a microscope, or a laboratory. How did they know all these things? It was through the heart; they purified the heart. It is open to us to do the same today; it is the culture of the heart, really, and not that of the intellect that will lessen the misery of the world._x000d_ Intellect has been cultured with the result that hundreds of sciences have been discovered, and their effect has been that the few have made slaves of the many--that is all the good that has been done. Artificial wants have been created; and every poor man, whether he has money or not, desires to have those wants satisfied, and when he cannot, he struggles, and dies in the struggle. This is the result. Through the intellect is not the way to solve the problem of misery, but through the heart. If all this vast amount of effort had been spent in making men purer, gentler, more forbearing, this world would have a thousandfold more happiness than it has today. Always cultivate the heart; through the heart the Lord speaks, and through the intellect you yourself speak._x000d_ You remember in the Old Testament where Moses was told, "Take off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground." We must always approach the study of religion with that reverent attitude. He who comes with a pure heart and a reverent attitude, his heart will be opened; the doors will open for him, and he will see the truth._x000d_ If you come with intellect only, you can have a little intellectual gymnastics, intellectual theories, but not truth. Truth has such a face that any one who sees that face becomes convinced. The sun does not require any torch to show it; the sun is self-effulgent. If truth requires evidence, what will evidence that evidence? If something is necessary as witness for truth, where is the witness for that witness? We must approach religion with reverence and with love, and our heart will stand up and say, this is truth, and this is untruth._x000d_ The field of religion is beyond our senses, beyond even our consciousness. We cannot sense God. Nobody has seen God with his eyes or ever will see; nobody has God in his consciousness. I am not conscious of God, or you, or anybody. Where is God? Where is the field of religion? It is beyond the senses, beyond consciousness. Consciousness is only one of the many planes in which we work; you will have to transcend the field of consciousness, to go beyond the senses, approach nearer and nearer to your own centre, and as you do that, you will approach nearer and nearer to God. What is the proof of God? Direct perception, Pratyaksha. The proof of this wall is that I perceive it. God has been perceived that way by thousands before, and will be perceived by all who want to perceive Him. But this perception is no sense-perception at all; it is supersensuous, superconscious, and all this training is needed to take us beyond the senses. By means of all sorts of past work and bondages we are being dragged downwards; these preparations will make us pure and light. Bondages will fall off by themselves, and we shall be buoyed up beyond this plane of sense-perception to which we are tied down, and then we shall see, and hear, and feel things which men in the three ordinary states (viz. waking, dream, and sleep) neither feel, nor see, nor hear. Then we shall speak a strange language, as it were, and the world will not understand us, because it does not know anything but the senses. True religion is entirely transcendental. Every being that is in the universe has the potentiality of transcending the senses; even the little worm will one day transcend the senses and reach God. No life will be a failure; there is no such thing as failure in the universe. A hundred times man will hurt himself, a thousand times he will tumble, but in the end he will realise that he is God. We know there is no progress in a straight line. Every soul moves, as it were, in a circle, and will have to complete it, and no soul can go so low but there will come a time when it will have to go upwards. No one will be lost. We are all projected from one common centre, which is God. The highest as well as the lowest life God ever projected, will come back to the Father of all lives. "From whom all beings are projected, in whom all live, and unto whom they all return; that is God."

228 W. 39th St. New York,_x000d_ 20th December, 1895_x000d_ Dear Alasinga,_x000d_ . . . Have patience and be faithful unto death. Do not fight among yourselves. Be perfectly pure in money dealings. . . . We will do great things yet. . . . So long as you have faith and honesty and devotion, everything will prosper._x000d_ . . . In translating the Suktas, pay particular attention to the Bhashyakaras (commentators), and pay no attention whatever to the orientalists. They do not understand a single thing about our Shastras (scriptures). It is not given to dry philologists to understand philosophy or religion. . . . For instance the word Anid-avatam in the Rig Veda was translated--"He lived without breathing". Now, here the reference is really to the chief Prana, and Avatam has the root meaning for unmoved, that is, without vibration. It describes the state in which the universal cosmic energy, or Prana, remains before the Kalpa (cycle of creation) begins: vide--the Bhashyakaras. Explain according to our sages and not according to the so-called European scholars. What do they know?_x000d_ . . . Be bold and fearless, and the road will be clear. . . . Mind, you have nothing whatsoever to do with the Theosophists. If you all stand by me and do not lose patience, I assure you, we shall do great work yet. The great work will be in England, my boy, by and by. I feel you sometimes get disheartened, and I am afraid you get temptations to play in the hands of the Theosophists. Mind you, the Guru-Bhakta will conquer the world--this is the one evidence of history. . . . It is faith that makes a lion of a man. You must always remember how much work I have to do. Sometimes I have to deliver two or three lectures a day--and thus I make my way against all odds--hard work; any weaker man would die._x000d_ . . . Hold on with faith and strength; be true, be honest, be pure, and don't quarrel among yourselves. Jealousy is the bane of our race._x000d_ With love to you and all our friends there,_x000d_ Yours,_x000d_ Vivekananda

Helping others physically by removing their physical needs, is indeed great, but the help is great according as the need is greater and according as the help is far-reaching. If a man's wants can be removed for an hour, it is helping him indeed; if his wants can be removed for a year, it will be more help to him; but if his wants can be removed for ever, it is surely the greatest help that can be given him. Spiritual knowledge is the only thing that can destroy our miseries for ever; any other knowledge satisfies wants only for a time. It is only with the knowledge of the spirit that the faculty of want is annihilated for ever; so helping man spiritually is the highest help that can be given to him. He who gives man spiritual knowledge is the greatest benefactor of mankind and as such we always find that those were the most powerful of men who helped man in his spiritual needs, because spirituality is the true basis of all our activities in life. A spiritually strong and sound man will be strong in every other respect, if he so wishes. Until there is spiritual strength in man even physical needs cannot be well satisfied. Next to spiritual comes intellectual help. The gift of knowledge is a far higher gift than that of food and clothes; it is even higher than giving life to a man, because the real life of man consists of knowledge. Ignorance is death, knowledge is life. Life is of very little value, if it is a life in the dark, groping through ignorance and misery. Next in order comes, of course, helping a man physically. Therefore, in considering the question of helping others, we must always strive not to commit the mistake of thinking that physical help is the only help that can be given. It is not only the last but the least, because it cannot bring about permanent satisfaction. The misery that I feel when I am hungry is satisfied by eating, but hunger returns; my misery can cease only when I am satisfied beyond all want. Then hunger will not make me miserable; no distress, no sorrow will be able to move me. So, that help which tends to make us strong spiritually is the highest, next to it comes intellectual help, and after that physical help._x000d_ The miseries of the world cannot be cured by physical help only. Until man's nature changes, these physical needs will always arise, and miseries will always be felt, and no amount of physical help will cure them completely. The only solution of this problem is to make mankind pure. Ignorance is the mother of all the evil and all the misery we see. Let men have light, let them be pure and spiritually strong and educated, then alone will misery cease in the world, not before. We may convert every house in the country into a charity asylum, we may fill the land with hospitals, but the misery of man will still continue to exist until man's character changes._x000d_ We read in the Bhagavad Gita again and again that we must all work incessantly. All work is by nature composed of good and evil. We cannot do any work which will not do some good somewhere; there cannot be any work which will not cause some harm somewhere. Every work must necessarily be a mixture of good and evil; yet we are commanded to work incessantly. Good and evil will both have their results, will produce their Karma. Good action will entail upon us good effect; bad action, bad. But good and bad are both bondages of the soul. The solution reached in the Gita in regard to this bondage-producing nature of work is that, if we do not attach ourselves to the work we do, it will not have any binding effect on our soul. We shall try to understand what is meant by this "non-attachment" to work._x000d_ This is the one central idea in the Gita: work incessantly, but be not attached to it. Samskara can be translated very nearly by "inherent tendency". Using the simile of a lake for the mind, every ripple, every wave that rises in the mind, when it subsides, does not die out entirely, but leaves a mark and a future possibility of that wave coming out again. This mark, with the possibility of the wave reappearing, is what is called Samskara. Every work that we do, every movement of the body, every thought that we think, leaves such an impression on the mind-stuff, and even when such impressions are not obvious on the surface, they are sufficiently strong to work beneath the surface, subconsciously. What we are every moment is determined by the sum total of these impressions on the mind. What I am just at this moment is the effect of the sum total of all the impressions of my past life. This is really what is meant by character; each man's character is determined by the sum total of these impressions. If good impressions prevail, the character becomes good; if bad, it becomes bad. If a man continuously hears bad words, thinks bad thoughts, does bad actions, his mind will be full of bad impressions; and they will influence his thought and work without his being conscious of the fact. In fact, these bad impressions are always working, and their resultant must be evil, and that man will be a bad man; he cannot help it. The sum total of these impressions in him will create the strong motive power for doing bad actions. He will be like a machine in the hand of his impressions, and they will force him to do evil. Similarly, if a man thinks good thoughts and does good works, the sum total of these impressions will be good; and they, in a similar manner, will force him to do good even in spite of himself. When a man has done so much good work and thought so many good thoughts that there is an irresistible tendency in him to do good, in spite of himself and even if he wishes to do evil, his mind, as the sum total of his tendencies, will not allow him to do so; the tendencies will turn him _x000d_ back; he is completely under the influence of the good tendencies. When such is the case, a man's good character is said to be established._x000d_ As the tortoise tucks its feet and head inside the shell, and you may kill it and break it in pieces, and yet it will not come out, even so the character of that man who has control over his motives and organs is unchangeably established. He controls his own inner forces, and nothing can draw them out against his will. By this continuous reflex of good thoughts, good impressions moving over the surface of the mind, the tendency for doing good becomes strong, and as the result we feel able to control the Indriyas (the sense-organs, the nerve-centres). Thus alone will character be established, then alone a man gets to truth. Such a man is safe for ever; he cannot do any evil. You may place him in any company, there will be no danger for him. There is a still higher state than having this good tendency, and that is the desire for liberation. You must remember that freedom of the soul is the goal of all Yogas, and each one equally leads to the same result. By work alone men may get to where Buddha got largely by meditation or Christ by prayer. Buddha was a working Jnani, Christ was a Bhakta, but the same goal was reached by both of them. The difficulty is here. Liberation means entire freedom--freedom from the bondage of good, as well as from the bondage of evil. A golden chain is as much a chain as an iron one. There is a thorn in my finger, and I use another to take the first one out; and when I have taken it out, I throw both of them aside; I have no necessity for keeping the second thorn, because both are thorns after all. So the bad tendencies are to be counteracted by the good ones, and the bad impressions on the mind should be removed by the fresh waves of good ones, until all that is evil almost disappears, or is subdued and held in control in a corner of the mind; but after that, the good tendencies have also to be conquered. Thus the "attached" becomes the "unattached". Work, but let not the action or the thought produce a deep impression on the mind. Let the ripples come and go, let huge actions proceed from the muscles and the brain, but let them not make any deep impression on the soul._x000d_ How can this be done? We see that the impression of any action, to which we attach ourselves, remains. I may meet hundred of persons during the day, and among them meet also one whom I love; and when I retire at night, I may try to think of all the faces I saw, but only that face comes before the mind--the face which I met perhaps only for one minute, and which I loved; all the others have vanished. My attachment to this particular person caused a deeper impression on my mind than all the other faces. Physiologically the impressions have all been the same; every one of the faces that I saw pictured itself on the retina, and the brain took the pictures in, and yet there was no similarity of effect upon the mind. Most of the faces, perhaps, were entirely new faces, about which I had never thought before, but that one face of which I got only a glimpse found associations inside. Perhaps I had pictured him in my mind for years, knew hundreds of things about him, and this one new vision of him awakened hundreds of sleeping memories in my mind; and this one impression having been repeated perhaps a hundred times more than those of the different faces together, will produce a great effect on the mind. _x000d_ Therefore, be "unattached"; let things work; let brain centres work; work incessantly, but let not a ripple conquer the mind. Work as if you were a stranger in this land, a sojourner; work incessantly, but do not bind yourselves; bondage is terrible. This world is not our habitation, it is only one of the many stages through which we are passing. Remember that great saying of the Sankhya, "The whole of nature is for the soul, not the soul for nature." The very reason of nature's existence is for the education of the soul; it has no other meaning; it is there because the soul must have knowledge, and through knowledge free itself. If we remember this always, we shall never be attached to nature; we shall know that nature is a book in which we are to read, and that when we have gained the required knowledge, the book is of no more value to us. Instead of that, however, we are identifying ourselves with nature; we are thinking that the soul is for nature, that the spirit is for the flesh, and, as the common saying has it, we think that man "lives to eat" and not "eats to live". We are continually making this mistake; we are regarding nature as ourselves and are becoming attached to it; and as soon as this attachment comes, there is the deep impression on the soul, which binds us down and makes us work not from freedom but like slaves._x000d_ The whole gist of this teaching is that you should work like a master and not as a slave; work incessantly, but do not do slave's work. Do you not see how everybody works? Nobody can be altogether at rest; ninety-nine per cent of mankind work like slaves, and the result is misery; it is all selfish work. Work through freedom! Work through love! The word "love" is very difficult to understand; love never comes until there is freedom. There is no true love possible in the slave. If you buy a slave and tie him down in chains and make him work for you, he will work like a drudge, but there will be no love in him. So when we ourselves work for the things of the world as slaves, there can be no love in us, and our work is not true work. This is true of work done for relatives and friends, and is true of work done for our own selves. Selfish work is slave's work; and here is a test. Every act of love brings happiness; there is no act of love which does not bring peace and blessedness as its reaction. Real existence, real knowledge, and real love are eternally connected with one another, the three in one: where one of them is, the others also must be; they are the three aspects of the One without a second--the Existence-Knowledge-Bliss. When that existence becomes relative, we see it as the world; that knowledge becomes in its turn modified into the knowledge of the things of the world; and that bliss forms the foundation of all true love known to the heart of man. Therefore true love can never react so as to cause pain either to the lover or to the beloved. Suppose a man loves a woman; he wishes to have her all to himself and feels extremely jealous about her every movement; he wants her to sit near him, to stand near him, and to eat and move at his bidding. He is a slave to her and wishes to have her as his slave. That is not love; it is a kind of morbid affection of the slave, insinuating itself as love. It cannot be love, because it is painful; if she does not do what he wants, it brings him pain. With love there is no painful reaction; love only brings a reaction of bliss; if it does not, it is not love; it is mistaking something else for love. When you have succeeded in loving your husband, your wife, your children, the whole world, the universe, in such a manner that there is no reaction of pain or jealousy, no selfish feeling, then you are in a fit state to be unattached._x000d_ Krishna says, "Look at Me, Arjuna! If I stop from work for one moment, the whole universe will die. I have nothing to gain from work; I am the one Lord, but why do I work? Because I love the world." God is unattached because He loves; that real love makes us unattached. Wherever there is attachment, the clinging to the things of the world, you must know that it is all physical attraction between sets of particles of matter--something that attracts two bodies nearer and nearer all the time and, if they cannot get near enough, produces pain; but where _x000d_ there is real love, it does not rest on physical attachment at all. Such lovers may be a thousand miles away from one another, but their love will be all the same; it does not die, and will never produce any painful reaction._x000d_ To attain this unattachment is almost a life-work, but as soon as we have reached this point, we have attained the goal of love and become free; the bondage of nature falls from us, and we see nature as she is; she forges no more chains for us; we stand entirely free and take not the results of work into consideration; who then cares for what the results may be? _x000d_ Do you ask anything from your children in return for what you have given them? It is your duty to work for them, and there the matter ends. In whatever you do for a particular person, a city, or a state, assume the same attitude towards it as you have towards your children--expect nothing in return. If you can invariably take the position of a giver, in which everything given by you is a free offering to the world, without any thought of return, then will your work bring you no attachment. Attachment comes only where we expect a return._x000d_ If working like slaves results in selfishness and attachment, working as master of our own mind gives rise to the bliss of non-attachment. We often talk of right and justice, but we find that in the world right and justice are mere baby's talk. There are two things which guide the conduct of men: might and mercy. The exercise of might is invariably the exercise of selfishness. All men and women try to make the most of whatever power or advantage they have. Mercy is heaven itself; to be good, we have all to be merciful. Even justice and right should stand on mercy. All thought of obtaining return for the work we do hinders our spiritual progress; nay, in the end it brings misery. There is another way in which this idea of mercy and selfless charity can be put into practice; that is, by looking upon work as "worship" in case we believe in a Personal God. Here we give up all the fruits of our work unto the Lord, and worshipping Him thus, we have no right to expect anything from mankind for the work we do. The Lord Himself works incessantly and is ever without attachment. Just as water cannot wet the lotus leaf, so work cannot bind the unselfish man by giving rise to attachment to results. The selfless and unattached man may live in the very heart of a crowded and sinful city; he will not be touched by sin. _x000d_ This idea of complete self-sacrifice is illustrated in the following story: After the battle of Kurukshetra the five Pandava brothers performed a great sacrifice and made very large gifts to the poor. All people expressed amazement at the greatness and richness of the sacrifice, and said that such a sacrifice the world had never seen before. But, after the ceremony, there came a little mongoose, half of whose body was golden, and the other half brown; and he began to roll on the floor of the sacrificial hall. He said to those around, "You are all liars; this is no sacrifice." "What!" they exclaimed, "you say this is no sacrifice; do you not know how money and jewels were poured out to the poor and every one became rich and happy? This was the most wonderful sacrifice any man every performed." But the mongoose said, "There was once a little village, and in it there dwelt a poor Brahmin with his wife, his son, and his son's wife. They were very poor and lived on small gifts made to them for preaching and teaching. There came in that land a three years' famine, and the poor Brahmin suffered more than ever. At last when the family had starved for days, the father brought home one morning a little barley flour, which he had been fortunate enough to obtain, and he divided it into four parts, one for each member of the family. They prepared it for their meal, and just as they were about to eat, there was a knock at the door. The father opened it, and there stood a guest. Now in India a guest is a sacred person; he is as a god for the time being, and must be treated as such. So the poor Brahmin said, "Come in, sir; you are welcome." He set before the guest his own portion of the food, which the guest quickly ate and said, "Oh, sir, you have killed me; I have been starving for ten days, and this little bit has but increased my hunger." Then the wife said to her husband, "Give him my share," but the husband said, "Not so." The wife however insisted, saying, "Here is a poor man, and it is our duty as householders to see that he is fed, and it is my duty as a wife to give him my portion, seeing that you have no more to offer him." Then she gave her share to the guest, which he ate, and said he was still burning with hunger. So the son said, "Take my portion also; it is the duty of a son to help his father to fulfil his obligation." The guest ate that, but remained still unsatisfied; so the son's wife gave him her portion also. That was sufficient, and the guest departed, blessing them. That night those four people died of starvation. A few granules of that flour had fallen on the floor; and when I rolled my body on them, half of it became golden, as you see. Since then I have been travelling all over the world, hoping to find another sacrifice like that, but nowhere have I found one; nowhere else has the other half of my body been turned into gold. That is why I say this is no sacrifice."_x000d_ This idea of charity is going out of India; great men are becoming fewer and fewer. When I was first learning English, I read an English story book in which there was a story about a dutiful boy who had gone out to work and had given some of his money to his old mother, and this was praised in three or four pages. What was that? No Hindu boy can ever understand the moral of that story. Now I understand it when I hear the Western idea--every man for himself. And some men take everything for themselves, and fathers and mothers and wives and children go to the wall. That should never and nowhere be the ideal of the householder._x000d_ Now you see what Karma-Yoga means; even at the point of death to help any one, without asking questions. Be cheated millions of times and never ask a question, and never think of what you are doing. Never vaunt of your gifts to the poor or expect their gratitude, but rather be grateful to them for giving you the occasion of practising charity to them. Thus it is plain that to be an ideal householder is a much more difficult task than to be an ideal Sannyasin; the true life of work is indeed as hard as, if not harder than, the equally true life of renunciation.

It is necessary in the study of Karma-Yoga to know what duty is. If I have to do something I must first know that it is my duty, and then I can do it. The idea of duty again is different in different nations. The Mohammedan says what is written in his book, the Koran, is his duty; the Hindu says what is in the Vedas is his duty; and the Christian says what is in the Bible is his duty. We find that there are varied ideas of duty, differing according to different states in life, different historical periods and different nations. The term "duty", like every other universal abstract term, is impossible clearly to define; we can only get an idea of it by knowing its practical operations and results. When certain things occur before us, we have all a natural or trained impulse to act in a certain manner towards them; when this impulse comes, the mind begins to think about the situation. Sometimes it thinks that it is good to act in a particular manner under the given conditions; at other times it thinks that it is wrong to act in the same manner even in the very same circumstances. The ordinary idea of duty everywhere is that every good man follows the dictates of his conscience. But what is it that makes an act a duty? If a Christian finds a piece of beef before him and does not eat it to save his own life, or will not give it to save the life of another man, he is sure to feel that he has not done his duty. But if a Hindu dares to eat that piece of beef or to give it to another Hindu, he is equally sure to feel that he too has not done his duty; the Hindu's training and education make him feel that way. In the last century there were notorious bands of robbers in India called thugs; they thought it their duty _x000d_ to kill any man they could and take away his money; the larger the number of men they killed, the better they thought they were. Ordinarily if a man goes out into the street and shoots down another man, he is apt to feel sorry for it, thinking that he has done wrong. But if the very same man, as a soldier in his regiment, kills not one but twenty, he is certain to feel glad and think that he has done his duty remarkable well. Therefore we see that it is not the thing done that defines a duty. To give an objective definition of duty is thus entirely impossible. Yet there is duty from the subjective side. Any action that makes us go Godward is a good action, and is our duty; any action that makes us go downward is evil, and is not our duty. From the subjective standpoint we may see that certain acts have a tendency to exalt and ennoble us, while certain other acts have a tendency to degrade and to brutalise us. But it is not possible to make out with certainty which acts have which kind of tendency in relation to all persons, of all sorts and conditions. There is, however, only one idea of duty which has been universally accepted by all mankind, of all ages and sects and countries, and that has been summed up in a Sanskrit aphorism thus: "Do not injure any being; not injuring any being is virtue, injuring any being is sin."_x000d_ The Bhagavad Gita frequently alludes to duties dependent upon birth and position in life. Birth and position in life and in society largely determine the mental and moral attitude of individuals towards the various activities of life. It is therefore our duty to do that work which will exalt and ennoble us in accordance with the ideals and activities of the society in which we are born. But it must be particularly remembered that the same ideals and activities do not prevail in all societies and countries; our ignorance of this is the main cause of much of the hatred of one nation towards another. An American thinks that whatever an American does in accordance with the custom of his country is the best thing to do, and that whoever does not follow his custom must be a very wicked man. A Hindu thinks that his customs are the only right ones and are the best in the world, and that whosoever does not obey them must be the most wicked man living. This is quite a natural mistake which all of us are apt to make. But it is very harmful; it is the cause of half the uncharitableness found in the world. When I came to this country and was going through the Chicago Fair, a man from behind pulled at my turban. I looked back and saw that he was a very gentlemanly-looking man, neatly dressed. I spoke to him; and when he found that I knew English, he became very much abashed. On another occasion in the same Fair another man gave me a push. When I asked him the reason, he also was ashamed and stammered out an apology saying, "Why do you dress that way?" The sympathies of these men were limited within the range of their own language and their own fashion of dress. Much of the oppression of powerful nations on weaker ones is caused by this prejudice. It dries up their fellow-feeling for fellow men. That very man who asked me why I did not dress as he did and wanted to ill-treat me because of my dress may have been a very good man, a good father, and a good citizen; but the kindliness of his nature died out as soon as he saw a man in a different dress. Strangers are exploited in all countries, because they do not know how to defend themselves; thus they carry home false impressions of the peoples they have seen. Sailors, soldiers, and traders behave in foreign lands in very queer ways, although they would not dream of doing so in their own country; perhaps this is why the Chinese call Europeans and Americans "foreign devils". They could not have done this if they had met the good, the kindly sides of Western life._x000d_ Therefore the one point we ought to remember is that we should always try to see the duty of others through their own eyes, and never judge the customs of other peoples by our own standard. I am not the standard of the universe. I have to accommodate myself to the world, and not the world to me. So we see that environments change the nature of our duties, and doing the duty which is ours at any particular time is the best thing we can do in this world. Let us do that duty which is ours by birth; and when we have done that, let us do the duty which is ours by our position in life and in society. There is, however, one great danger in human nature, viz. that man never examines himself. He thinks he is quite as fit to be on the throne as the king. Even if he is, he must first show that he has done the duty of his own position; and then higher duties will come to him. When we begin to work earnestly in the world, nature gives us blows right and left and soon enables us to find out our position. No man can long occupy satisfactorily a position for which he is not fit. There is no use in grumbling against nature's adjustment. He who does the lower work is not therefore a lower man. No man is to be judged by the mere nature of his duties, but all should be judged by the manner and the spirit in which they perform them._x000d_ Later on we shall find that even this idea of duty undergoes change, and that the greatest work is done only when there is no selfish motive to prompt it. Yet it is work through the sense of duty that leads us to work without any idea of duty; when work will become worship--nay, something higher--then will work be done for its own sake. We shall find that the philosophy of duty, whether it be in the form of ethics or of love, is the same as in every other Yoga--the object being the attenuating of the lower self, so that the real higher Self may shine forth--the lessening of the frittering away of energies on the lower plane of existence, so that the soul may manifest itself on the higher ones. This is accomplished by the continuous denial of low desires, which duty rigorously requires. The whole organisation of society has thus been developed, consciously or unconsciously, in the realms of action and experience, where, by limiting selfishness, we open the way to an unlimited expansion of the real nature of man._x000d_ Duty is seldom sweet. It is only when love greases its wheels that it runs smoothly; it is a continuous friction otherwise. How else could parents do their duties to their children, husbands to their wives, and vice versa? Do we not meet with cases of friction every day in our lives? Duty is sweet only through love, and love shines in freedom alone. Yet is it freedom to be a slave to the senses, to anger, to jealousies and a hundred other petty things that must occur every day in human life? In all these little roughnesses that we meet with in life, the highest expression of freedom is to forbear. Women, slaves to their own irritable, jealous tempers, are apt to blame their husbands, and assert their own "freedom", as they think, not knowing that thereby they only prove that they are slaves. So it is with husbands who eternally find fault with their wives._x000d_ Chastity is the first virtue in man or woman, and the man who, however he may have strayed away, cannot be brought to the right path by a gentle and loving and chaste wife is indeed very rare. The world is not yet as bad as that. We hear much about brutal husbands all over the world and about the impurity of men, but is it not true that there are quite as many brutal and impure women as men? If all women were as good and pure as their own constant assertions would lead one to believe, I am perfectly satisfied that there would not be one impure man in the world. What brutality is there which purity and chastity cannot conquer? A good, chaste wife, who thinks of every other man except her own husband as her child and has the attitude of a mother towards all men, will grow so great in the power of her purity that there cannot be a single man, however brutal, who will not breathe an atmosphere of holiness in her presence. Similarly, every husband must look upon all women, except his own wife, in the light of his own mother or daughter or sister. That man, again, who wants to be a teacher of religion must look upon every woman as his mother, and always behave towards her as such._x000d_ The position of the mother is the highest in the world, as it is the one place in which to learn and exercise the greatest unselfishness. The love of God is the only love that is higher than a mother's love; all others are lower. It is the duty of the mother to think of her children first and then of herself. But, instead of that, if the parents are always thinking of themselves first, the result is that the relation between parents and children becomes the same as that between birds and their offspring which, as soon as they are fledged, do not recognise any parents. Blessed, indeed, is the man who is able to look upon woman as the representative of the motherhood of God. Blessed, indeed, is the woman to whom man represents the fatherhood of God. Blessed are the children who look upon their parents as Divinity manifested on earth._x000d_ The only way to rise is by doing the duty next to us, and thus gathering strength go on until we reach the highest state. A young Sannyasin went to a forest; there he meditated, worshipped, and practised Yoga for a long time. After years of hard work and practice, he was one day sitting under a tree, when some dry leaves fell upon his head. He looked up and saw a crow and a crane fighting on the top of the tree, which made him very angry. He said, "What! Dare you throw these dry leaves upon my head!" As with these words he angrily glanced at them, a flash of fire went out of his head--such was the Yogi's power--and burnt the birds to ashes. He was very glad, almost overjoyed at this development of power--he could burn the crow and the crane by a look. After a time he had to go to the town to beg his bread. He went, stood at a door, and said, "Mother, give me food." A voice came from inside the house, "Wait a little, my son." The young man thought, "You wretched woman, how dare you make me wait! You do not know my power yet." While he was thinking thus the voice came again: "Boy, don't be thinking too much of yourself. Here is neither crow nor crane." He was astonished; still he had to wait. At last the woman came, and he fell at her feet and said, "Mother, how did you know that?" She said, "My boy, I do not know your Yoga or your practices. I am a common everyday woman. I made you wait because my husband is ill, and I was nursing him. All my life I have struggled to do my duty. When I was unmarried, I did my duty to my parents; now that I am married, I do my duty to my husband; that is all the Yoga I practise. But by doing my duty I have become illumined; thus I could read your thoughts and know what you had done in the forest. If you want to know something higher than this, go to the market of such and such a town where you will find a Vyadha who will tell you something that you will be very glad to learn." The Sannyasin thought, "Why should I go to that town and to a Vyadha?" But after what he had seen, his mind opened a little, so he went. When he came near the town, he found the market and there saw, at a distance, a big fat Vyadha cutting meat with big knives, talking and bargaining with different people. The young man said, "Lord help me! Is this the man from whom I am going to learn? He is the incarnation of a demon, if he is anything." In the meantime this man looked up and said, "O Swami, did that lady send you here? Take a seat until I have done my business." The Sannyasin thought, "What comes to me here?" He took his seat; the man went on with his work, and after he had finished he took his money and said to the Sannyasin, "Come sir, come to my home." On reaching home the Vyadha gave him a seat, saying, "Wait here," and went into the house. He then washed his old father and mother, fed them, and did all he could to please them, after which he came to the Sannyasin and said, "Now, sir, you have come here to see me; what can I do for you?" The Sannyasin asked him a few questions about soul and about God, and the Vyadha gave him a lecture which forms a part of the Mahabharata, called the Vyadha Gita . It contains one of the highest flights of the Vedanta. When the Vyadha finished his teaching, the Sannyasin felt astonished. He said, "Why are you in that body? With such knowledge as yours why are you in a Vyadha's body, and doing such filthy, ugly work?" "My son," replied the Vyadha, "no duty is ugly, no duty is impure. My birth placed me in these circumstances and environments. In my boyhood I learnt the trade; I am unattached, and I try to do my duty well. I try to do my duty as a householder, and I try to do all I can to make my father and mother happy. I neither know your Yoga, nor have I become a Sannyasin, nor did I go out of the world into a forest; nevertheless, all that you have heard and seen has come to me through the unattached doing of the duty which belongs to my position." _x000d_ There is a sage in India, a great Yogi, one of the most wonderful men I have ever seen in my life. He is a peculiar man, he will not teach any one; if you ask him a question he will not answer. It is too much for him to take up the position of a teacher, he will not do it. If you ask a question, and wait for some days, in the course of conversation he will bring up the subject, and wonderful light will he throw on it. He told me once the secret of work, "Let the end and the means be joined into one." When you are doing any work, do not think of anything beyond. Do it as worship, as the highest worship, and devote your whole life to it for the time being. Thus, in the story, the Vyadha and the woman did their duty with cheerfulness and whole-heartedness; and the result was that they become illuminated, clearly showing that the right performance of the duties of any station in life, without attachment to results, leads us to the highest realisation of the perfection of the soul._x000d_ It is the worker who is attached to results that grumbles about the nature of the duty which has fallen to his lot; to the unattached worker all duties are equally good, and form efficient instruments with which selfishness and sensuality may be killed, and the freedom of the soul secured. We are all apt to think too highly of ourselves. Our duties are determined by our deserts to a much larger extent than we are willing to grant. Competition rouses envy, and it kills the kindliness of the heart. To the grumbler all duties are distasteful; nothing will ever satisfy him, and his whole life is doomed to prove a failure. Let us work on, doing as we go whatever happens to be our duty, and being ever ready to put our shoulders to the wheel. Then surely shall we see the Light!

Pranayama is not, as many think, something about breath; breath indeed has very little to do with it, if anything. Breathing is only one of the many exercises through which we get to the real Pranayama. Pranayama means the control of Prana. According to the philosophers of India, the whole universe is composed of two materials, one of which they call Akasha. It is the omnipresent, all-penetrating existence. Everything that has form, everything that is the result of combination, is evolved out of this Akasha. It is the Akasha that becomes the air, that becomes the liquids, that becomes the solids; it is the Akasha that becomes the sun, the earth, the moon, the stars, the comets; it is the Akasha that becomes the human body, the animal body, the plants, every form that we see, everything that can be sensed, everything that exists. It cannot be perceived; it is so subtle that it is beyond all ordinary perception; it can only be seen when it has become gross, has taken form. At the beginning of creation there is only this Akasha. At the end of the cycle the solids, the liquids, and the gases all melt into the Akasha again, and the next creation similarly proceeds out of this Akasha._x000d_ By what power is this Akasha manufactured into this universe? By the power of Prana. Just as Akasha is the infinite, omnipresent material of this universe, so is this Prana the infinite, omnipresent manifesting power of this universe. At the beginning and at the end of a cycle everything becomes Akasha, and all the forces that are in the universe resolve back into the Prana; in the next cycle, out of this Prana is evolved everything that we call energy, everything that we call force. It is the Prana that is manifesting as motion; it is the Prana that is manifesting as gravitation, as magnetism. It is the Prana that is manifesting as the actions of the body, as the nerve currents, as thought force. From thought down to the lowest force, everything is but the manifestation of Prana. The sum total of all forces in the universe, mental or physical, when resolved back to their original state, is called Prana. "When there was neither aught nor naught, when darkness was covering darkness, what existed them? That Akasha existed without motion." The physical motion of the Prana was stopped, but it existed all the same._x000d_ At the end of a cycle the energies now displayed in the universe quiet down and become potential. At the beginning of the next cycle they start up, strike upon the Akasha, and out of the Akasha evolve these various forms, and as the Akasha changes, this Prana changes also into all these manifestations of energy. The knowledge and control of this Prana is really what is meant by Pranayama._x000d_ This opens to us the door to almost unlimited power. Suppose, for instance, a man understood the Prana perfectly, and could control it, what power on earth would not be his? He would be able to move the sun and stars out of their places, to control everything in the universe, from the atoms to the biggest suns, because he would control the Prana. This is the end and aim of Pranayama. When the Yogi becomes perfect, there will be nothing in nature not under his control. If he orders the gods or the souls of the departed to come, they will come at his bidding. All the forces of nature will obey him as slaves. When the ignorant see these powers of the Yogi, they call them the miracles. One peculiarity of the Hindu mind is that it always inquires for the last possible generalisation, leaving the details to be worked out afterwards. The question is raised in the Vedas, "What is that, knowing which, we shall know everything?" Thus, all books, and all philosophies that have been written, have been only to prove that by knowing which everything is known. If a man wants to know this universe bit by bit he must know every individual grain of sand, which means infinite time; he cannot know all of them. Then how can knowledge be? How is it possible for a man to be all-knowing through particulars? The Yogis say that behind this particular manifestation there is a generalisation. Behind all particular ideas stands a generalised, an abstract principle; grasp it, and you have grasped everything. Just as this whole universe has been generalised in the Vedas into that One Absolute Existence, and he who has grasped that Existence has grasped the whole universe, so all forces have been generalised into this Prana, and he who has grasped the Prana has grasped all the forces of the universe, mental or physical. He who has controlled the Prana has controlled his own mind, and all the minds that exist. He who has controlled the Prana has controlled his body, and all the bodies that exist, because the Prana is the generalised manifestation of force._x000d_ How to control the Prana is the one idea of Pranayama. All the trainings and exercises in this regard are for that one end. Each man must begin where he stands, must learn how to control the things that are nearest to him. This body is very near to us, nearer than anything in the external universe, and this mind is the nearest of all. The Prana which is working this mind and body is the nearest to us of all the Prana in this universe. This little wave of the Prana which represents our own energies, mental and physical, is the nearest to us of all the waves of the infinite ocean of Prana. If we can succeed in controlling that little wave, then alone we can hope to control the whole of Prana. The Yogi who has done this gains perfection; no longer is he under any power. He becomes almost almighty, almost all-knowing. We see sects in every country who have attempted this control of Prana. In this country there are Mind-healers, Faith-healers, Spiritualists, Christian Scientists, Hypnotists, etc., and if we examine these different bodies, we shall find at the back of each this control of the Prana, whether they know it or not. If you boil all their theories down, the residuum will be that. It is the one and the same force they are manipulating, only unknowingly. They have stumbled on the discovery of a force and are using it unconsciously without knowing its nature, but it is the same as the Yogi uses, and which comes from Prana._x000d_ The Prana is the vital force in every being. Thought is the finest and highest action of Prana. Thought, again, as we see, is not all. There is also what we call instinct or unconscious thought, the lowest plane of action. If a mosquito stings us, our hand will strike it automatically, instinctively. This is one expression of thought. All reflex actions of the body belong to this plane of thought. There is again the other plane of thought, the conscious. I reason, I judge, I think, I see the pros and cons of certain things, yet that is not all. We know that reason is limited. Reason can go only to a certain extent, beyond that it cannot reach. The circle within which it runs is very very limited indeed. Yet at the same time, we find facts rush into this circle. Like the coming of comets certain things come into this circle; it is certain they come from outside the limit, although our reason cannot go beyond. The causes of the phenomena intruding themselves in this small limit are outside of this limit. The mind can exist on a still higher plane, the superconscious. When the mind has attained to that state, which is called Samadhi--perfect concentration, superconsciousness--it goes beyond the limits of reason, and comes face to face with facts which no instinct or reason can ever know. All manipulations of the subtle forces of the body, the different manifestations of Prana, if trained, give a push to the mind, help it to go up higher, and become superconscious, from where it acts._x000d_ In this universe there is one continuous substance on every plane of existence. Physically this universe is one: there is no difference between the sun and you. The scientist will tell you it is only a fiction to say the contrary. There is no real difference between the table and me; the table is one point in the mass of matter, and I another point. Each form represents, as it were, one whirlpool in the infinite ocean of matter, of which not one is constant. Just as in a rushing stream there may be millions of whirlpools, the water in each of which is different every moment, turning round and round for a few seconds, and then passing out, replaced by a fresh quantity, so the whole universe is one constantly changing mass of matter, in which all forms of existence are so many whirlpools. A mass of matter enters into one whirlpool, say a human body, stays there for a period, becomes changed, and goes out into another, say an animal body this time, from which again after a few years, it enters into another whirlpool, called a lump of mineral. It is a constant change. Not one body is constant. There is no such thing as my body, or your body, except in words. Of the one huge mass of matter, one point is called a moon, another a sun, another a man, another the earth, another a plant, another a mineral. Not one is constant, but everything is changing, matter eternally concreting and disintegrating. So it is with the mind. Matter is represented by the ether; when the action of Prana is most subtle, this very ether, in the finer state of vibration, will represent the mind, and there it will be still one unbroken mass. If you can simply get to that subtle vibration, you will see and feel that the whole universe is composed of subtle vibrations. Sometimes certain drugs have the power to take us, while as yet in the senses, to that condition. Many of you may remember the celebrated experiment of Sir Humphrey Davy, when the laughing gas overpowered him--how, during the lecture, he remained motionless, stupefied and, after that, he said that the whole universe was made up of ideas. For the time being, as it were, the gross vibrations had ceased, and only the subtle vibrations which he called ideas, were present to him. He could only see the subtle vibrations round him; everything had become thought; the whole universe was an ocean of thought, he and everyone else had become little thought whirlpools._x000d_ Thus, even in the universe of thought we find unity, and at last, when we get to the Self, we know that that Self can only be One. Beyond the vibrations of matter in its gross and subtle aspects, beyond motion there is but One. Even in manifested motion there is only unity. These facts can no more be denied. Modern physics also has demonstrated that the sum total of the energies in the universe is the same throughout. It has also been proved that this sum total of energy exists in two forms. It becomes potential, toned down, and calmed, and next it comes out manifested as all these various forces; again it goes back to the quiet state, and again it manifests. Thus it goes on evolving and involving through eternity. The control of this Prana, as before stated, is what is called Pranayama._x000d_ The most obvious manifestation of this Prana in the human body is the motion of the lungs. If that stops, as a rule all the other manifestations of force in the body will immediately stop. But there are persons who can train themselves in such a manner that the body will live on, even when this motion has stopped. There are some persons who can bury themselves for days, and yet live without breathing. To reach the subtle we must take the help of the grosser, and so, slowly travel towards the most subtle until we gain our point. Pranayama really means controlling this motion of the lungs, and this motion is associated with the breath. Not that breath is producing it; on the contrary it is producing breath. This motion draws in the air by pump action. The Prana is moving the lungs, the movement of the lungs draws in the air. So Pranayama is not breathing, but controlling that muscular power which moves the lungs. That muscular power which goes out through the nerves to the muscles and from them to the lungs, making them move in a certain manner, is the Prana, which we have to control in the practice of Pranayama. When the Prana has become controlled, then we shall immediately find that all the other actions of the Prana in the body will slowly come under control. I myself have seen men who have controlled almost every muscle of the body; and why not? If I have control over certain muscles, why not over every muscle and nerve of the body? What impossibility is there? At present the control is lost, and the motion has become automatic. We cannot move our ears at will, but we know that animals can. We have not that power because we do not exercise it. This is what is called atavism._x000d_ Again, we know that motion which has become latent can be brought back to manifestation. By hard work and practice certain motions of the body which are most dormant can be brought back under perfect control. Reasoning thus we find there is no impossibility, but, on the other hand, every probability that each part of the body can be brought under perfect control. This the Yogi does through Pranayama. Perhaps some of you have read that in Pranayama, when drawing in the breath, you must fill your whole body with Prana. In the English translations Prana is given as breath, and you are inclined to ask how that is to be done. The fault is with the translator. Every part of the body can be filled with Prana, this vital force, and when you are able to do that, you can control the whole body. All the sickness and misery felt in the body will be perfectly controlled; not only so, you will be able to control another's body. Everything is infectious in this world, good or bad. If your body be in a certain state of tension, it will have a tendency to produce the same tension in others. If you are strong and healthy, those that live near you will also have the tendency to become strong and healthy, but if you are sick and weak, those around you will have the tendency to become the same. In the case of one man trying to heal another, the first idea is simply transferring his own health to the other. This is the primitive sort of healing. Consciously or unconsciously, health can be transmitted. A very strong man, living with a weak man, will make him a little stronger, whether he knows it or not. When consciously done, it becomes quicker and better in its action. Next come those cases in which a man may not be very healthy himself, yet we know that he can bring health to another. The first man, in such a case, has a little more control over the Prana, and can rouse, for the time being, his Prana, as it were, to a certain state of vibration, and transmit it to another person._x000d_ There have been cases where this process has been carried on at a distance, but in reality there is no distance in the sense of a break. Where is the distance that has a break? Is there any break between you and the sun? It is a continuous mass of matter, the sun being one part, and you another. Is there a break between one part of a river and another? Then why cannot any force travel? There is no reason against it. Cases of healing from a distance are perfectly true. The Prana can be transmitted to a very great distance; but to one genuine case, there are hundreds of frauds. This process of healing is not so easy as it is thought to be. In the most ordinary cases of such healing you will find that the healers simply take advantage of the naturally healthy state of the human body. An allopath comes and treats cholera patients, and gives them his medicines. The homoeopath comes and gives his medicines, and cures perhaps more than the allopath does, because the homoeopath does not disturb his patients, but allows nature to deal with them. The Faith-healer cures more still, because he brings the strength of his mind to bear, and rouses, through faith, the dormant Prana of the patient._x000d_ There is a mistake constantly made by Faith-healers: they think that faith directly heals a man. But faith alone does not cover all the ground. There are diseases where the worst symptoms are that the patient never thinks that he has that disease. That tremendous faith of the patient is itself one symptom of the disease, and usually indicates that he will die quickly. In such cases the principle that faith cures does not apply. If it were faith alone that cured, these patients also would be cured. It is by the Prana that real curing comes. The pure man, who has controlled the Prana, has the power of bringing it into a certain state of vibration, which can be conveyed to others, arousing in them a similar vibration. You see that in everyday actions. I am talking to you. What am I trying to do? I am, so to say, bringing my mind to a certain state of vibration, and the more I succeed in bringing it to that state, the more you will be affected by what I say. All of you know that the day I am more enthusiastic, the more you enjoy the lecture; and when I am less enthusiastic, you feel lack of interest._x000d_ The gigantic will-powers of the world, the world-movers, can bring their Prana into a high state of vibration, and it is so great and powerful that it catches others in a moment, and thousands are drawn towards them, and half the world think as they do. Great prophets of the world had the most wonderful control of the Prana, which gave them tremendous will-power; they had brought their Prana to the highest state of motion, and this is what gave them power to sway the world. All manifestations of power arise from this control. Men may not know the secret, but this is the one explanation. Sometimes in your own body the supply of Prana gravitates more or less to one part; the balance is disturbed, and when the balance of Prana is disturbed, what we call disease is produced. To take away the superfluous Prana, or to supply the Prana that is wanting, will be curing the disease. That again is Pranayama--to learn when there is more or less Prana in one part of the body than there should be. The feelings will become so subtle that the mind will feel that there is less Prana in the toe or the finger than there should be, and will possess the power to supply it. These are among the various functions of Pranayama. They have to be learned slowly and gradually, and as you see, the whole scope of Raja-Yoga is really to teach the control and direction in different planes of the Prana. When a man has concentrated his energies, he masters the Prana that is in his body. When a man is meditating, he is also concentrating the Prana._x000d_ In an ocean there are huge waves, like mountains, then smaller waves, and still smaller, down to little bubbles, but back of all these is the infinite ocean. The bubble is connected with the infinite ocean at one end, and the huge wave at the other end. So, one may be a gigantic man, and another a little bubble, but each is connected with that infinite ocean of energy, which is the common birthright of every animal that exists. Wherever there is life, the storehouse of infinite energy is behind it. Starting as some fungus, some very minute, microscopic bubble, and all the time drawing from that infinite storehouse of energy, a form is changed slowly and steadily until in course of time it becomes a plant, then an animal, then man, ultimately God. This is attained through millions of aeons, but what is time? An increase of speed, an increase of struggle, is able to bridge the gulf of time. That which naturally takes a long time to accomplish can be shortened by the intensity of the action, says the Yogi. A man may go on slowly drawing in this energy from the infinite mass that exists in the universe, and, perhaps, he will require a hundred thousand years to become a Deva, and then, perhaps, five hundred thousand years to become still higher, and, perhaps, five millions of years to become perfect. Given rapid growth, the time will be lessened. Why is it not possible, with sufficient effort, to reach this very perfection in six months or six years? There is no limit. Reason shows that. If an engine, with a certain amount of coal, runs two miles an hour, it will run the distance in less time with a greater supply of coal. Similarly, why shall not the soul, by intensifying its action, attain perfection in this very life? All beings will at last attain to that goal, we know. But who cares to wait all these millions of aeons? Why not reach it immediately, in this body even, in this human form? Why shall I not get that infinite knowledge, infinite power, now?_x000d_ The ideal of the Yogi, the whole science of Yoga, is directed to the end of teaching men how, by intensifying the power of assimilation, to shorten the time for reaching perfection, instead of slowly advancing from point to point and waiting until the whole human race has become perfect. All the great prophets, saints, and seers of the world--what did they do? In one span of life they lived the whole life of humanity, traversed the whole length of time that it takes ordinary humanity to come to perfection. In one life they perfect themselves; they have no thought for anything else, never live a moment for any other idea, and thus the way is shortened for them. This is what is meant by concentration, intensifying the power of assimilation, thus shortening the time. Raja-Yoga is the science which teaches us how to gain the power of concentration. _x000d_ What has Pranayama to do with spiritualism? Spiritualism is also a manifestation of Pranayama. If it be true that the departed spirits exist, only we cannot see them, it is quite probable that there may be hundreds and millions of them about us we can neither see, feel, nor touch. We may be continually passing and repassing through their bodies, and they do not see or feel us. It is a circle within a circle, universe within universe. We have five senses, and we represent Prana in a certain state of vibration. All beings in the same state of vibration will see one another, but if there are beings who represent Prana in a higher state of vibration, they will not be seen. We may increase the intensity of a light until we cannot see it at all, but there may be beings with eyes so powerful that they can see such light. Again, if its vibrations are very low, we do not see a light, but there are animals that may see it, as cats and owls. Our range of vision is only one plane of the vibrations of this Prana. Take this atmosphere, for instance; it is piled up layer on layer, but the layers nearer to the earth are denser than those above, and as you go higher the atmosphere become finer and finer. Or take the case of the ocean; as you go deeper and deeper the pressure of the water increases, and animals which live at the bottom of the sea can never come up, or they will be broken into pieces._x000d_ Think of the universe as an ocean of ether, consisting of layer after layer of varying degrees of vibration under the action of Prana; away from the centre the vibrations are less, nearer to it they become quicker and quicker; one order of vibration makes one plane. Then suppose these ranges of vibrations are cut into planes, so many millions of miles one set of vibration, and then so many millions of miles another still higher set of vibration, and so on. It is, therefore, probable, that those who live on the plane of a certain state of vibration will have the power of recognising one another, but will not recognise those above them. Yet, just as by the telescope and the microscope we can increase the scope of our vision, similarly we can by Yoga bring ourselves to the state of vibration of another plane, and thus enable ourselves to see what is going on there. Suppose this room is full of beings whom we do not see. They represent Prana in a certain state of vibration while we represent another. Suppose they represent a quick one, and we the opposite. Prana is the material of which they are composed, as well as we. All are parts of the same ocean of Prana, they differ only in their rate of vibration. If I can bring myself to the quick vibration, this plane will immediately change for me: I shall not see you any more; you vanish and they appear. Some of you, perhaps, know this to be true. All this bringing of the mind into a higher state of vibration is included in one word in Yoga--Samadhi. All these states of higher vibration, superconscious vibrations of the mind, are grouped in that one word, Samadhi, and the lower states of Samadhi give us visions of these beings. The highest grade of Samadhi is when we see the real thing, when we see the material out of which the whole of these grades of beings are composed, and that one lump of clay being known, we know all the clay in the universe._x000d_ Thus we see that Pranayama includes all that is true of spiritualism even. Similarly, you will find that wherever any sect or body of people is trying to search out anything occult and mystical, or hidden, what they are doing is really this Yoga, this attempt to control the Prana. You will find that wherever there is any extraordinary display of power, it is the manifestation of this Prana. Even the physical sciences can be included in Pranayama. What moves the steam engine? Prana, acting through the steam. What are all these phenomena of electricity and so forth but Prana? What is physical science? The science of Pranayama, by external means. Prana, manifesting itself as mental power, can only be controlled by mental means. That part of Pranayama which attempts to control the physical manifestations of the Prana by physical means is called physical science, and that part which tries to control the manifestation of the Prana as mental force by mental means is called Raja-Yoga.

Every soul is destined to be perfect, and every being, in the end, will attain to that state. Whatever we are now is the result of whatever we have been or thought in the past; and whatever we shall be in the future will be the result of what we do or think now. But this does not preclude our receiving help from outside; the possibilities of the soul are always quickened by some help from outside, so much so that in the vast majority of cases in the world, help from outside is almost absolutely necessary. Quickening influence comes from outside, and that works upon our own potentialities; and then the growth begins, spiritual life comes, and man becomes holy and perfect in the end. This quickening impulse which comes from outside cannot be received from books; the soul can receive impulse only from another soul, and from nothing else. We may study books all our lives, we may become very intellectual, but in the end we find we have not developed at all spiritually. It does not follow that a high order of intellectual development always shows an equivalent development of the spiritual side of man; on the other hand, we find cases almost every day where the intellect has become very highly developed at the expense of the spirit._x000d_ Now in intellectual development we can get much help from books, but in spiritual development, almost nothing. In studying books, sometimes we are deluded into thinking that we are being spiritually helped; but if we analyse ourselves, we shall find that only our intellect has been helped, and not the spirit. That is the reason why almost everyone of us can speak most wonderfully on spiritual subjects, but when the time of action comes, we find ourselves so woefully deficient. It is because books cannot give us that impulse from outside. To quicken the spirit, that impulse must come from another soul._x000d_ That soul from which this impulse comes is called the Guru, the teacher; and the soul to which the impulse is conveyed is called the disciple, the student. In order to convey this impulse, in the first place, the soul from which it comes must possess the power of transmitting it, as it were, to another; and in the second place, the object to which it is transmitted must be fit to receive it. The seed must be a living seed, and the field must be ready ploughed; and when both these conditions are fulfilled, a wonderful growth of religion takes place. "The speaker of religion must be wonderful, so must the hearer be"; and when both of these are really wonderful, extraordinary, then alone will splendid spiritual growth come, and not otherwise. These are real teachers, and these are the real students. Besides these, the others are playing with spirituality--just having a little intellectual struggle, just satisfying a little curiosity--but are standing only on the outward fringes of the horizon of religion. There is some value in that; real thirst for religion may thus be awakened; all comes in course of time. It is a mysterious law of nature that as soon as the field is ready the seed must come, as soon as the soul wants religion, the transmitter of religious force must come. "The seeking sinner meeteth the seeking Saviour." When the power that attracts in the receiving soul is full and ripe, the power which answers to that attraction must come._x000d_ But there are great dangers in the way. There is the danger to the receiving soul of mistaking its momentary emotion for real religious yearning. We find that in ourselves. Many times in our lives, somebody dies whom we loved; we receive a blow; for a moment we think that this world is slipping between our fingers, and that we want something higher, and that we are going to be religious. In a few days that wave passes away, and we are left stranded where we were. We ofttimes mistake such impulses for real thirst after religion, but so long as these momentary emotions are thus mistaken, that continuous, real want of the soul will not come, and we shall not find the "transmitter"._x000d_ So when we complain that we have not got the truth, and that we want it so much, instead of complaining, our first duty ought to be to look into our own souls and find whether we really want it. In the vast majority of cases we shall find that we are not fit; we do not want; there was no thirst after the spiritual._x000d_ There are still more difficulties for the "transmitter". There are many who, though immersed in ignorance, yet, in the pride of their hearts, think they know everything, and not only do not stop there, but offer to take others on their shoulders, and thus "the blind leading the blind, they both fall into the ditch". The world is full of these; everyone wants to be a teacher, every beggar wants to make a gift of a million dollars. Just as the latter is ridiculous, so are these teachers._x000d_ How are we to know a teacher then? In the first place, the sun requires no torch to make it visible. We do not light a candle to see the sun. When the sun rises, we instinctively become aware of its rising; and when a teacher of men comes to help us, the soul will instinctively know that it has found the truth. Truth stands on its own evidences; it does not require any other testimony to attest it; it is self-effulgent. It penetrates into the inmost recesses of our nature, and the whole universe stands up and says, "This is Truth." These are the very great teachers, but we get help from the lesser ones also; and as we ourselves are not always sufficiently intuitive to be certain of our judgment of the man from whom we receive, there ought to be certain tests. There are certain conditions necessary in the taught, and also the teacher._x000d_ The conditions necessary in the taught are purity, a real thirst after knowledge, and perseverance. No impure soul can be religious; that is the one great condition; purity in every way is absolutely necessary. The other condition is a real thirst after knowledge. Who wants ? That is the old question. We get whatever we want--that is an old, old law. He who wants, gets. To want religion is a very difficult thing, not so easy as we generally think. Then we always forget that religion does not consist in hearing talks, or in reading books, but it is a continuous struggle, a grappling with our own nature, a continuous fight till the victory is achieved. It is not a question of one or two days, of years, or of lives, but it may be hundreds of lifetimes, and we must be ready for that. It may come immediately, or it may not come in hundreds of lifetimes; and we must be ready for that. The student who sets out with such a spirit finds success._x000d_ In the teacher we must first see that he knows the secret of the scriptures. The whole world reads scriptures--Bibles, Vedas, Korans, and others; but they are only words, external arrangement, syntax, the etymology, the philosophy, the dry bones of religion. The teacher may be able to find what is the age of any book, but words are only the external forms in which things come. Those who deal too much in words and let the mind run always in the force of words lose the spirit. So the teacher must be able to know the spirit of the scriptures. The network of words is like a huge forest in which the human mind loses itself and finds no way out. The various methods of joining words, the various methods of speaking a beautiful language, the various methods of explaining the dicta of the scriptures, are only for the enjoyment of the learned. They do not attain perfection; they are simply desirous to show their learning, so that the world may praise them and see that they are learned men. You will find that no one of the great teachers of the world went into these various explanations of texts; on their part there is no attempt at "text-torturing", no saying, "This word means this, and this is the philological connection between this and that word." You study all the great teachers the world has produced, and you will see that no one of them goes that way. Yet they taught, while others, who have nothing to teach, will take a word and write a three-volume book on its origin and use. As my Master used to say, what would you think of men who went into a mango orchard and busied themselves in counting leaves, the size of twigs, the number of branches, and so forth, while only one of them had the sense to begin to eat the mangoes? So leave this counting of leaves and twigs and this note-taking to others. That work has its own value in its proper place, but not here in the spiritual realm. Men never become spiritual through such work; you have never once seen a strong spiritual man among these "leaf-counters". Religion is the highest aim of man, the highest glory, but it does not require "leaf-counting". If you want to be a Christian, it is not necessary to know whether Christ was born in Jerusalem or Bethlehem or just the exact date on which he pronounced the Sermon on the Mount; you only require to feel the Sermon on the Mount. It is not necessary to read two thousand words on when it was delivered. _x000d_ All that is for the enjoyment of the learned. Let them have it; say amen to that. Let us eat the mangoes._x000d_ The second condition in the teacher is that he must be sinless. The question was once asked me in England by a friend, "Why should we look to the personality of a teacher? We have only to judge of what he says, and take that up." Not so. If a man wants to teach me something of dynamics or chemistry or any other physical science, he may be of any character; he can still teach dynamics or any other science. For the knowledge that the physical sciences require is simply intellectual and depends on intellectual strength; a man can have in such a case a gigantic intellectual power without the least development of his soul. But in the spiritual sciences it is impossible from first to last that there can be any spiritual light in that soul which is impure. What can such a soul teach? It knows nothing. Spiritual truth is purity. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God". In that one sentence is the gist of all religions. If you have learnt that, all that has been said in the past and all that it is possible to say in the future, you have known; you need not look into anything else, for you have all that is necessary in that one sentence; it could save the world, were all the other scriptures lost. A vision of God, a glimpse of the beyond never comes until the soul is pure. Therefore in the teacher of spirituality, purity is the one thing indispensable; we must see first what he is, and then what he says. Not so with intellectual teachers; there we care more for what he says than what he is. With the teacher of religion we must first and foremost see what he is, and then alone comes the value of the words, because he is the transmitter. What will he transmit, if he has not that spiritual power in him? To give a simile: If a heater is hot, it can convey heat vibrations, but if not, it is impossible to do so. Even so is the case with the mental vibrations of the religious teacher which he conveys to the mind of the taught. It is a question of transference, and not of stimulating only our intellectual faculties. Some power, real and tangible, goes out from the teacher and begins to grow in the mind of the taught. Therefore the necessary condition is that the teacher must be true._x000d_ The third condition is motive. We should see that he does not teach with any ulterior motive, for name, or fame, or anything else, but simply for love, pure love for you. When spiritual forces are transmitted from the teacher to the taught, they can only be conveyed through the medium of love; there is no other medium that can convey them. Any other motive, such as gain or name, would immediately destroy the conveying medium; therefore all must be done through love. One who has known God can alone be a teacher. When you see that in the teacher these conditions are fulfilled, you are safe; if they are not fulfilled, it is unwise to accept him. There is a great risk, if he cannot convey goodness, of his conveying wickedness sometimes. This must be guarded against; therefore it naturally follows that we cannot be taught by anybody and everybody._x000d_ The preaching of sermons by brooks and stones may be true as a poetical figure but no one can preach a single grain of truth until he has it in himself. To whom do the brooks preach sermons? To that human soul only whose lotus of life has already opened. When the heart has been opened, it can receive teaching from the brooks or the stones--it can get some religious teaching from all these; but the unopened heart will see nothing but brooks and rolling stones. A blind man may come to a museum, but he comes and goes only; if he is to see, his eyes must first be opened. This eye-opener of religion is the teacher. With the teacher, therefore, our relationship is that of ancestor and descendant; the teacher is the spiritual ancestor, and the disciple is the spiritual descendant. It is all very well to talk of liberty and independence, but without humility, submission, veneration, and faith, there will not be any religion. It is a significant fact that where this relation still exists between the teacher and the taught, there alone gigantic spiritual souls grow; but in those who have thrown it off religion is made into a diversion. In nations and churches where this relation between teacher and taught is not maintained spirituality is almost an unknown quantity. It never comes without that feeling; there is no one to transmit and no one to be transmitted to, because they are all independent. Of whom can they learn? And if they come to learn, they come to buy learning. Give me a dollar's worth of religion; cannot I pay a dollar for it? Religion cannot be got that way!_x000d_ There is nothing higher and holier than the knowledge which comes to the soul transmitted by a spiritual teacher. If a man has become a perfect Yogi it comes by itself, but it cannot be got in books. You may go and knock your head against the four corners of the world, seek in the Himalayas, the Alps, the Caucasus, the Desert of Gobi or Sahara, or the bottom of the sea, but it will not come until you find a teacher. Find the teacher, serve him as a child, open your heart to his influence, see in him God manifested. Our attention should be fixed on the teacher as the highest manifestation of God; and as the power of attention concentrates there, the picture of the teacher as man will melt away; the frame will vanish, and the real God will be left there. Those that come to truth with such a spirit of veneration and love--for them the Lord of truth speaks the most wonderful words. "Take thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground". Wherever His name is spoken, that place is holy. How much more so is a man who speaks His name, and with what veneration ought we to approach a man out of whom come spiritual truths! This is the spirit in which we are to be taught. Such teachers are few in number, no doubt, in this world, but the world is never altogether without them. The moment it is absolutely bereft of these, it will cease to be, it will become a hideous hell and will just drop. These teachers are the fair flowers of human life and keep the world going; it is the strength that is manifested from these hearts of life that keeps the bounds of society intact._x000d_ Beyond these is another set of teachers, the Christs of the world. These Teachers of all teachers represent God Himself in the form of man. They are much higher; they can transmit spirituality with a touch, with a wish, which makes even the lowest and most degraded characters saints in one second. Do you not read of how they used to do these things? They are not the teachers about whom I was speaking; they are the Teachers of all teachers, the greatest manifestations of God to man; we cannot see God and they are the only beings we are bound to worship._x000d_ No man hath "seen" God but as He is manifested in the Son. We cannot see God. If we try to see Him, we make a hideous caricature of God. There is an Indian story that an ignorant man was asked to make an image of the God Shiva, and after days of struggle he made an image of a monkey. So whenever we attempt to make an image of God, we make a caricature of Him, because we cannot understand Him as anything higher than man so long as we are men. The time will come when we transcend our human nature and know Him as He is; but so long as we are men we must worship Him in man. Talk as we may, try as we may, we cannot see God except as a man. We may deliver great intellectual speeches, become very great rationalists, and prove that these tales of God as all nonsense, but let us come to practical common sense. What is behind this remarkable intellect? Zero, nothing, simply so much froth. When next you hear a man delivering great intellectual lectures against this worship of God, get hold of him and ask him what is his idea of God, what he means by "omnipotence", and "omniscience", and "omnipresent love", and so forth, beyond the spelling of the words. He means nothing, he cannot formulate an idea, he is no better than the man in the street who has not read a single book. That man in the street, however, is quiet and does not disturb the world, while the other man's arguments cause disturbance. He has no actual perception, and both are on the same plane._x000d_ Religion is realisation, and you must make the sharpest distinction between talk and realisation. What you perceive in your soul is realisation. Man has no idea of the Spirit, he has to think of it with the forms he has before him. He has to think of the blue skies, or the expansive fields, or the sea, or something huge. How else can you think of God? So what are you doing in reality? You are talking of omnipresence, and thinking of the sea. Is God the sea? A little more common sense is required. Nothing is so uncommon as common sense, the world is too full of talk. A truce to all this frothy argument of the world. We are by our present constitution limited and bound to see God as man. If the buffaloes want to worship God, they will see Him as a huge buffalo. If a fish wants to worship God, it will have to think of Him as a big fish. You and I, the buffalo, the fish, each represents so many different vessels. All these go to the sea to be filled with water according to the shape of each vessel. In each of these vessels is nothing but water. So with God. When men see Him, they see Him as man, and the animals as animal--each according to his ideal. That is the only way you can see Him; you have to worship Him as man, because there is no other way out of it. Two classes of men do not worship God as man--the human brute who has no religion, and the Paramahamsa (highest Yogi) who has gone beyond humanity, who has thrown off his mind and body and gone beyond the limits of nature. All nature has become his Self. He has neither mind nor body, and can worship God as God, as can a Jesus or a Buddha. They do not worship God as man. The other extreme is the human brute. You know how extremes look alike. Similar is the case with the extreme of ignorance and the other extreme of knowledge; neither of these worships anybody. The extremely ignorant do not worship God, not being developed enough to feel the need for so doing. Those that have attained the highest knowledge also do not worship God--having realised and become one with God. God never worships God. Between these two poles of existence, if anyone tells you he is not going to worship God as man, take care of him. He is an irresponsible talker, he is mistaken; his religion is for frothy thinkers, it is intellectual nonsense._x000d_ Therefore it is absolutely necessary to worship God as man, and blessed are those races which has such a "God-man" to worship. Christians have such a God-man in Christ; therefore cling close to Christ; never give up Christ. That is the natural way to see God; see God in man. All our ideas of God are concentrated there. The great limitation Christians have is that they do not heed other manifestations of God besides Christ. He was a manifestation of God; so was Buddha; so were some others, and there will be hundreds of others. Do not limit God to anywhere. Pay all the reverence that you think is due to God, to Christ; that is the only worship we can have. God cannot be worshipped; He is the immanent Being of the universe. It is only to His manifestation as man that we can pray. It would be a very good plan, when Christians pray, to say, "in the name of Christ". It would be wise to stop praying to God, and only pray to Christ. God understands human failings and becomes a man to do good to humanity. "Whenever virtue subsides and immorality prevails, then I come to help mankind", says Krishna. He also says, "Fools, not knowing that I, the Omnipotent and Omnipresent God of the universe, have taken this human form, deride Me and think that cannot be." Their minds have been clouded with demoniacal ignorance, so they cannot see in Him the Lord of the universe. These great Incarnations of God are to be worshipped. Not only so, they alone can be worshipped; and on the days of their birth, and on the days when they went out of this world, we ought to pay more particular reverence to them. In worshipping Christ I would rather worship Him just as He desires; on the day of His birth I would rather worship him by fasting than by feasting--by praying. When these are thought of, these great ones, they manifest themselves in our souls, and they make us like unto them. Our whole nature changes, and we become like them._x000d_ But you must not mix up Christ or Buddha with hobgoblins flying through the air and all that sort of nonsense. Sacrilege! Christ coming into a spiritualistic séance to dance! I have seen that pretence in this country. It is not in that way that these manifestations of God come. The very touch of one of them will be manifest upon a man; when Christ touches, the whole soul of man will change, that man will be transfigured just as He was. His whole life will be spiritualised; from every pore of his body spiritual power will emanate. What were the great powers of Christ in miracles and healing, in one of his character? They were low, vulgar things that He could not help doing because He was among vulgar beings. Where was this miracle-making done? Among the Jews; and the Jews did not take Him. Where was it not done? In Europe. The miracle-making went to the Jews, who rejected Christ, and the Sermon on the Mount to Europe, which accepted Him. The human spirit took on what was true and rejected what was spurious. The great strength of Christ is not in His miracles or His healing. Any fool could do those things. Fools can heal others, devils can heal others. I have seen horrible demoniacal men do wonderful miracles. They seem to manufacture fruits out of the earth. I have known fools and diabolical men tell the past, present, and future. I have seen fools heal at a glance, by the will, the most horrible diseases. These are powers, truly, but often demoniacal powers. The other is the spiritual power of Christ which will live and always has lived--an almighty, gigantic love, and the words of truth which He preached. The action of healing men at a glance is forgotten, but His saying, "Blessed are the pure in heart", that lives today. These words are a gigantic magazine of power--inexhaustible. So long as the human mind lasts, so long as the name of God is not forgotten, these words will roll on and on and never cease to be. These are the powers Jesus taught, and the powers He had. The power of purity; that is a definite power. So in worshipping Christ, in praying to Him, we must always remember what we are seeking. Not those foolish things of miraculous display, but the wonderful powers of the Spirit, which make man free, give him control over the whole of nature, take from him the badge of slavery, and show God unto him.

228 West 39th Street_x000d_ New York_x000d_ 23rd December, 1895_x000d_ Dear Sharat {Saradananda},_x000d_ Your letter only made me sad. I see you have lost all enthusiasm. I know all of you, your powers and your limitations. I would not have called you to any task which you are incompetent to do. The only task I would have given you was to teach elementary Sanskrit, and with the help of dictionaries and other things assist S. in his translations and teachings. I would have moulded you to it. Anyone could have done as well--only a little smattering of Sanskrit was absolutely necessary. Well, everything is for the best. If it is the Lord's work the right man for the right place will be forthcoming in the right time. None of you need feel disturbed. As for Sanyal, I don't care who takes money or not, but I have a strong hatred for child-marriage. I have suffered terribly from it, and it is the great sin for which our nation has to suffer. As such, I would hate myself if I help such a diabolical custom directly or indirectly. I wrote to you pretty plain about it, and Sanyal had no right to play a hoax upon me about his "law-suit" and his attempts to become free. I am sorry for his playing tricks on me who have never done him any harm. This is the world. What good you do goes for nothing, but if you stop doing it, then, Lord help you, you are counted as a rogue. Isn't it? Emotional natures like mine are always preyed upon by relatives and friends. This world is merciless. This world is our friend when we are its slaves and no more. This world is broad enough for me. There will always be a corner found for me somewhere. If the people of India do not like me, there will be others who do. I must set my foot to the best of my ability upon this devilish custom of child-marriage. No blame will entail on you. You keep at a safe distance if you are afraid. I am sorry, very sorry, I cannot have any partnership with such doings as getting husbands for babies. Lord help me, I never had and never will have. Think of the case of M__ Babu! Did you ever meet a more cowardly or brutal one than that? I can kill the man who gets a husband for a baby. The upshot of the whole thing is--I want bold, daring, adventurous spirits to help me. Else I will work alone. I have a mission to fulfil. I will work it out alone. I do not care who comes or who goes. Sanyal is already done for by Samsara. Beware, boy! That was all the advice I thought it my duty to give you. Of course, you are great folks now--my words will have no value with you. But I hope the time will come when you will see clearer, know better, and think other thoughts than you are now doing._x000d_ Good-bye! I would not bother you any more, and all blessings go with you all. I am very glad I have been of some service to you sometimes if you think so. At least I am pleased with myself for having tried my best to discharge the duties laid on me by my Guru, and well done or ill, I am glad that I tried. So good-bye. Tell Sanyal that I am not at all angry with him, but I am sorry, very sorry. It is not the money--that counts nothing--but the violation of a principle that pained me, and the trick he played on me. Good-bye to him also, and to you all. One chapter of my life is closed. Let others come in their due order. They will find me ready. You need not disturb yourselves at all about me. I want no help from any human being in any country. So good-bye! May the Lord bless you all for ever and ever!_x000d_ Vivekananda

Bhakti is divided into two portions. One is called Vaidhi, formal or ceremonial; the other portion is called Mukhya, supreme. The word Bhakti covers all the ground between the lowest form of worship and the highest form of life. All the worship that you have seen in any country in the world, or in any religion, is regulated by love. There is a good deal that is simple ceremony; there is also a good deal which, though not ceremony, is still not love, but a lower state. Yet these ceremonies are necessary. The external part of Bhakti is absolutely necessary to help the soul onward. Man makes a great mistake when he thinks that he can at once jump to the highest state. If a baby thinks he is going to be an old man in a day, he is mistaken; and I hope you will always bear in mind this one ideal, that religion is neither in books, nor in intellectual consent, nor in reasoning. Reasoning, theories, documents, doctrines, books, religious ceremonies, are all helps to religion: religion itself consists in realisation. We all say, "There is a God." Have you seen God? That is the question. You hear a man say, "There is a God in heaven." You ask him if he has seen Him, and if he says he has, you would laugh at him and say he is a maniac. With most people religion is a sort of intellectual assent and goes no further than a document. I would not call it religion. It is better to be an atheist than to have that sort of religion. Religion does not depend on our intellectual assent or dissent. You say there is a soul. Have you seen the soul? How is it we all have souls and do not see them? You have to answer the question and find out the way to see the soul. If not, it is useless to talk of religion. If any religion is true, it must be able to show us the soul and show us God and the truth in ourselves. If you and I fight for all eternity about one of these doctrines or documents, we shall never come to any conclusion. People have been fighting for ages, and what is the outcome? Intellect cannot reach there at all. We have to go beyond the intellect; the proof of religion is in direct perception. The proof of the existence of this wall is that we see it; if you sat down and argued about its existence or non-existence for ages, you could never come to any conclusion; but directly you see it, it is enough. If all the men in the world told you it did not exist, you would not believe them, because you know that all the evidence of your own eyes is superior to that of all the doctrines and documents in the world._x000d_ To be religious, you have first to throw books overboard. The less you read of books, the better for you; do one thing at a time. It is a tendency in Western countries, in these modern times, to make a hotchpotch of the brain; all sorts of unassimilated ideas run riot in the brain and form a chaos without ever obtaining a chance to settle down and crystallise into a definite shape. In many cases it becomes a sort of disease, but this is not religion. Then some want a sensation. Tell them about ghosts and people coming from the North Pole or any other remote place, with wings or in any other form, and that they are invisibly present and watching over them, and make them feel uncanny, then they are satisfied and go home; but within twenty-four hours they are ready for a fresh sensation. This is what some call religion. This is the way to the lunatic asylum, and not to religion. The Lord is not to be reached by the weak, and all these weird things tend to weakness. Therefore go not near them; they only make people weak, bring disorder to the brain, weaken the mind, demoralise the soul, and a hopeless muddle is the result. You must bear in mind that religion does not consist in talk, or doctrine, or books, but in realisation; it is not learning, but being. Everybody knows, "Do not steal", but what of it? That man has really known who has not stolen. Everybody knows, "Do not injure others", but of what value is it? Those who have not done so have realised it, they know it and have built their character on it. Religion is realising; and I will call you a worshipper of God when you have become able to realise the Idea. Before that it is the spelling of the word, and no more. It is this power of realisation that makes religion. No amount of doctrines or philosophies or ethical books, that you may have stuffed into your brain, will matter much, only what you are and what you have realised. So we have to realise religion, and this realisation of religion is a long process. When men hear of something very high and wonderful, they all think they will get that, and never stop for a moment to consider that they will have to work their way up to it; they all want to jump there. If it is the highest, we are for it. We never stop to consider whether we have the power, and the result is that we do not do anything. You cannot take a man with a pitchfork and push him up there; we all have to work up gradually. Therefore the first part of religion is Vaidhi Bhakti, the lower phase of worship._x000d_ What are these lower phases of worship? They are various. In order to attain to the state where we can realise, we must pass through the concrete--just as you see children learn through the concrete first--and gradually come to the abstract. If you tell a baby that five times two is ten, it will not understand; but if you bring ten things and show how five times two is ten, it will understand. Religion is a long, slow process. We are all of us babies here; we may be old, and have studied all the books in the universe, but we are all spiritual babies. We have learnt the doctrines and dogmas, but realised nothing in our lives. We shall have to begin now in the concrete, through forms and words, prayers and ceremonies; and of these concrete forms there will be thousands; one form need not be for everybody. Some may be helped by images, some may not. Some require an image outside, others one inside the brain. The man who puts it inside says, "I am a superior man. When it is inside it is all right; when it is outside, it is idolatry, I will fight it." When a man puts an image in the form of a church or a temple, he thinks it is holy; but when it is in a human form, he objects to it!_x000d_ So there are various forms through which the mind will take this concrete exercise; and then, step by step, we shall come to the abstract understanding, abstract realisation. Again, the same form is not for everyone; there is one form that will suit you, and another will suit somebody else, and so on. All forms, though leading to the same goal, may not be for all of us. Here is another mistake we generally make. My ideal does not suit you; and why should I force it on you? My fashion of building churches or reading hymns does not suit you; why should I force it on you? Go into the world and every fool will tell you that his form is the only right one, that every other form is diabolical, and he is the only chosen man ever born in the universe. But in fact, all these forms are good and helpful. Just as there are certain varieties in human nature, so it is necessary that there should be an equal number of forms in religion; and the more there are, the better for the world. If there are twenty forms of religion in the world, it is very good; if there are four hundred, so much the better--there will be the more to choose from. So we should rather be glad when the number of religions and religious ideas increase and multiply, because they will then include every man and help mankind more. Would to God that religions multiplied until every man had his own religion, quite separate from that of any other! This is the idea of the Bhakti-Yogi._x000d_ The final idea is that my religion cannot be yours, or yours mine. Although the goal and the aim are the same, yet each one has to take a different road, according to the tendencies of his mind; and although these roads are various, they must all be true, because they lead to the same goal. It cannot be that one is true and the rest not. The choosing of one's own road is called in the language of Bhakti, Ishta, the chosen way._x000d_ Then there are words. All of you have heard of the power of words, how wonderful they are! Every book--the Bible, the Koran, and the Vedas--is full of the power of words. Certain words have wonderful power over mankind. Again, there are other forms, known as symbols. Symbols have great influence on the human mind. But great symbols in religion were not created indefinitely. We find that they are the natural expressions of thought. We think symbolically. All our words are but symbols of the thought behind, and different people have come to use different symbols without knowing the reason why. It was all behind, and these symbols are associated with the thoughts; and as the thought brings the symbol outside, so the symbol, on the contrary, can bring the thought inside. So one portion of Bhakti tells about these various subjects of symbols and words and prayers. Every religion has prayers, but one thing you must bear in mind--praying for health or wealth is not Bhakti, it is all Karma or meritorious action. Praying for any physical gain is simply Karma, such as a prayer for going to heaven and so forth. One that wants to love God, to be a Bhakta, must discard all such prayers. He who wants to enter the realms of light must first give up this buying and selling, this "shopkeeping" religion, and then enter the gates. It is not that you do not get what you pray for; you get everything, but such praying is a beggar's religion. "Foolish indeed is he who, living on the banks of the Ganga, digs a little well for water. A fool indeed is the man who, coming to a mine of diamonds, seeks for glass beads." This body will die some time, so what is the use of praying for its health again and again? What is there in health and wealth? The wealthiest man can use and enjoy only a little portion of his wealth. We can never get all the things of this world; and if not, who cares? This body will go, who cares for these things? If good things come, welcome; if they go away, let them go. Blessed are they when they come, and blessed are they when they go. We are striving to come into the presence of the King of kings. We cannot get there in a beggar's dress. Even if we wanted to enter the presence of an emperor, should we be admitted? Certainly not. We should be driven out. This is the Emperor of emperors, and in these beggar's rags we cannot enter. Shopkeepers never have admission there; buying and selling have no place there. As you read in the Bible, Jesus drove the buyers and sellers out of the Temple. Do not pray for these little things. If you seek only bodily comforts, where is the difference between man and animals? Think yourselves a little higher than that. So it goes without saying that the first task in becoming a Bhakta is to give up all desires of heaven and other things. The question is how to get rid of these desires. What makes men miserable? Because they are slaves, bound by laws, puppets in the hand of nature, tumbled about like playthings. We are continually taking care of this body that anything can knock down; and so we are living in a constant state of fear. I have read that a deer has to run on the average sixty or seventy miles every day, because it is frightened. We ought to know that we are in a worse plight than the deer. The deer has some rest, but we have none. If the deer gets grass enough it is satisfied, but we are always multiplying our wants. We have become so unhinged and unnatural that nothing natural will satisfy us. We are always grasping after morbid things, must have unnatural excitement--unnatural food, drink, surroundings, and life. As to fear, what are our lives but bundles of fear? The deer has only one class of fear, such as that from tigers, wolves, etc. Man has the whole universe to fear._x000d_ How are we to free ourselves from this is the question. Utilitarians say, "Don't talk of God and hereafter; we don't know anything of these things, let us live happily in this world." I would be the first to do so if we could, but the world will not allow us. As long as you are a slave of nature, how can you? The more you struggle, the more enveloped you become. You have been devising plans to make you happy, I do not know for how many years, but each year things seem to grow worse. Two hundred years ago in the old world people had few wants; but if their knowledge increased in arithmetical progression, their wants increased in geometrical progression. We think that in salvation at least our desires will be fulfilled, so we desire to go to heaven. This eternal, unquenchable thirst! Always wanting something! When a man is a beggar, he wants money. When he has money, he wants other things, society; and after that, something else. Never at rest. How are we to quench this? If we get to heaven, it will only increase desire. If a poor man gets rich, it does not quench his desires, it is only like throwing butter on the fire, increasing its bright flames. Going to heaven means becoming intensely richer, and then desire comes more and more. We read of many human things in heaven in the different Bibles of the world; they are not always very good there; and after all, this desire to go to heaven is a desire after enjoyment. This has to be given up. It is too little, too vulgar a thing for you to think of going to heaven. It is just the same as thinking, I will become a millionaire and lord it over people. There are many of these heavens, but through them you cannot gain the right to enter the gates of religion and love.