Regarding the points of difference between his own schemes for the regeneration

of India and those preached by others: 'I disagree with those who are for giving
their superstitions back to my people. Like the Egyptologist's interest in Egypt
,
it is easy to feel an interest in India that is purely selfish. One may desire t
o see
again the India of one's books, one's studies, one's dreams. My hope is to see t
he
strong points of that India, reinforced by the strong points of this age, only i
n a
natural way. The new state of things must be a growth from within. So I preach
only the Upanishads. If you look you will find that I have never quoted anything
but the Upanishads. And of the Upanishads, it is only that one idea
strength.
The quintessence of the Vedas and Vedanta and all, lies in that one word.
Buddha's teaching was of non-resistance or non-injury. But I think ours is a
better way of teaching the same thing. For behind that non-injury lay a dreadful
weakness the weakness that conceives the idea of resistance. But I do not
think of punishing or escaping from a drop of sea-spray. It is nothing to me. Ye
t
to the mosquito it would be serious. Now, I will make all injury like that.
Strength and fearlessness. My own ideal is that giant of a saint whom they
killed in the Sepoy Mutiny, and who broke his silence, when stabbed to the
heart, to say
"And thou also art He."'
About India and Europe the Swami said: 'I see that India is a young and living
organism. Europe is also young and living. Neither has arrived at such a stage o
f
development that we can safely criticize its institutions. They are two great
experiments, neither of which is yet complete.' They ought to be mutually
helpful, he went on, but at the same time each should respect the free
development of the other. They ought to grow hand in hand.
Thus time passed till the boat arrived at Tilbury Dock, where the party was met
by the Swami's disciples and friends, among whom were two American ladies
who had come all the way to London to meet their teacher. It was the off-season
for London, and so the two Swamis sailed for New York on August 16.
The trip was beneficial to the Swami's health; the sea was smooth and at night
the moonlight was enchanting. One evening as the Swami paced up and down
the deck enjoying the beauty of nature, he suddenly exclaimed, 'And if all this
maya is so beautiful, think of the wondrous beauty of the Reality behind it!'
Another evening, when the moon was full, he pointed to the sea and sky, and
said, 'Why recite poetry when there is the very essence of poetry?'