02-Epistles - Third Series - The Complete Works of Swami Vivekanand - Vol - 7 books and stories free download online pdf in English

02-Epistles - Third Series - The Complete Works of Swami Vivekanand - Vol - 7

Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda

Volume 7

© COPYRIGHTS

This book is copyrighted content of the concerned author as well as NicheTech / Matrubharti.

MMatrubharti / NicheTech has exclusive digital publishing rights of this book.

Any illegal copies in physical or digital format are strictly prohibited.

NicheTech / Matrubharti can challenge such illegal distribution / copies / usage in court.

Epistles - Third Series

  • Note
  • I Sir
  • II Sir
  • III Sir
  • IV Sir
  • V Gupta
  • VI Sir
  • VII Atul Babu
  • VIII Adhyapakji
  • IX Adhyapakji
  • X Adhyapakji
  • XI Mrs. Tannatt Woods
  • XII Adhyapakji
  • XIII Mrs. Woods
  • XIV Sister
  • XV Brother
  • XVI Professor
  • XVII Sister
  • XVIII Sister
  • XIX Adhyapakji
  • XX Adhyapakji
  • XXI Adhyapakji
  • XXII Adhyapakji
  • XXIII Mr. Bhattacharya
  • XXIV Kali
  • XXV Brother Shivananda
  • XXVI Brahmananda
  • XXVII Alasinga
  • XXVIII Brother
  • XXIX Dear—
  • XXX Rakhal
  • XXXI Alasinga
  • XXXII Dear
  • XXXIII Sister
  • XXXIV Shashi
  • XXXV Adhyapakji
  • XXXVI Miss Noble
  • XXXVII Friend and Brother
  • XXXVIII Sharat Chandra Chakravarti
  • XXXIX Mrs. Bull
  • XL Shuddhananda
  • XLI Miss Noble
  • XLII Miss Noble
  • XLIII Madam
  • XLIV Sturdy
  • XLV Mrs. Leggett
  • XLVI Mother
  • XLVII Margot
  • XLVIII Mother
  • IL Mother
  • L Mother
  • LI Mr. Leggett
  • LII Aunt Roxy
  • LIII Alberta
  • NOTE

    Before leaving for the USA, Swamiji used to change his name very often. In earlier years he signed as Narendra or Naren; then for some time as Vividishananda or Sachchidananda. But for the convenience of the readers, these volumes use the more familiar name Vivekananda.

    PUBLISHER

    I

    ( Translated from Bengali)

    Glory to Ramakrishna!

    BAIDYANATH,

    25th December, 1889.

    DEAR SIR (Shri Balaram Bose),

    I have been staying for the last few days at Baidyanath in Purna Babu's Lodge. It is not so cold, and my health too is indifferent. I am suffering from indigestion, probably due to excess of iron in the water. I have found nothing agreeable here — neither the place, nor the season, nor the company. I leave for Varanasi tomorrow. Achyutananda stopped at Govinda Chaudhury's place at Deoghar, and the latter, as soon as he got news of us, earnestly insisted on our becoming his guests. Finally, he met us once again and prevailed on us to accede to his request. The man is a great worker, but has a number of women with him — old women most of them, of the ordinary Vaishnava type. . . . His clerks too revere us much; some of them are very much ill-disposed towards him, and they spoke of his misdeeds. Incidentally, I raised the topic of __. You have many wrong ideas or doubts about her; hence I write all this after particular investigation. Even the aged clerks of this establishment highly respect and revere her. She came to stop with __ while she was a mere child, and ever lived as his wife. . . . Everyone admits in one voice that her character is spotless. She was all along a perfectly chaste woman and never behaved with __ in any relation but that of wife to husband, and she was absolutely faithful. She came at too early an age to have incurred any moral taint. After she had separated from __, she wrote to him to say that she had never treated him as anything but her husband, but that it was impossible for her to live with a man with a loose character. His old office-bearers too believe him to be satanic in character; but they consider __ a Devi (angel), and remark that it was following her departure that __ lost all sense of shame.

    My object in writing all this is that formerly I was not a believer in the tale of the lady's early life. The idea that there might be such purity in the midst of a relation which society does not recognise, I used to consider as romance. But after thorough investigation I have come to know that it is all right. She is very pure, pure from her infancy — I have not the least doubt about it. For entertaining those doubts, you and I and everyone are guilty to her; I make repeated salutations to her, and ask her pardon for my guilt. She is not a liar.

    I take this opportunity to record that such courage is impossible in a lying and unchaste woman. I have also been told that she had a lifelong ardent faith in religion also.

    Well, your disease is not yet improving! I don't think this is a place for patients unless one is ready to spend a good deal of money. Please think out some judicious course. Here every article will have to be procured from elsewhere.

    Yours sincerely,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    II

    ( Translated from Bengali)

    Glory to Ramakrishna!

    ALLAHABAD,

    30th December, 1889.

    DEAR SIR (Shri Balaram Bose),

    Gupta left a slip when coming and the next day a letter from Yogananda gave me all the news and I immediately started for Allahabad which I reached the day after, to find that Yogananda had completely recovered. He had chicken-pox (with one or two smallpox rashes also). The doctor is a noble soul, and they have got a brotherhood, who are all great pious men and highly devoted to the service of Sâdhus. They are particularly anxious that I pass the month of Mâgh here, but I am leaving for Varanasi. . . . How are you? I pray to God for the welfare of yourself and your family. Please convey my compliments to Tulasiram, Chuni Babu, and the rest.

    Yours affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    III

    ( Translated from Bengali)

    GHAZIPUR,

    30th January, 1890.

    REVERED SIR (Shri Balaram Bose),

    I am now stopping with Satish Babu at Ghazipur. Of the few places I have recently visited, this is the healthiest. The water of Baidyanath is very bad — it leads to indigestion. Allahabad is very congested. The few days I passed at Varanasi, I suffered from fever day and night — the place is so malarious! Ghazipur has a very salubrious climate — specially the quarter I am living in. I have visited Pavhari Baba's house — there are high walls all round, and it is fashioned like an English bungalow. There is a garden inside and big rooms and chimneys, etc. He allows nobody to enter. If he is so inclined, he comes up to the door and speaks from inside — that is all. One day I went and waited and waited in the cold and had to return. I shall go to Varanasi on Sunday next. If the meeting with the Babaji takes place in the meantime, all right, otherwise I bid him good-bye. About Pramada Babu's place I shall write definitely from Varanasi. If Kali Bhattacharya is determined to come, let him do so after I leave for Varanasi on Sunday, but he should rather not. After a few days' stay at Varanasi, I shall start for Hrishikesh. Pramada Babu may accompany me. Please accept all of you my cordial greetings — and blessing to Fakir, Ram, Krishnamayi, etc.

    Yours affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    PS. In my opinion, it will do you much good if you come and stay for some time at Ghazipur. Here Satish will be able to secure a bungalow for you, and there is a gentleman, Gagan Chandra Ray by name, who is the head of the Opium Office and is exceedingly courteous, philanthropic, and social — they will arrange for everything. The house-rent is fifteen to twenty rupees; rice is dear, and milk sells at sixteen to twenty seers a rupee; all other things are very cheap. Besides, under the care of these gentlemen, there is no chance of any difficulty. But it is slightly expensive — it will cost over forty to fifty rupees. Varanasi is horribly malarious. I have never lived in Pramada Babu's garden. He likes to have me always in his company. The garden is indeed very beautiful, richly laid out, spacious, and open. This time when I go, I shall live there and report to you.

    IV

    ( Translated from Bengali)

    Salutation to Bhagavan Ramakrishna!

    C/O Satish Mukherji,

    GORABAZAR, GHAZIPUR.

    14th February, 1890.

    REVERED SIR (Shri Balaram Bose),

    I am in receipt of your letter of contrition. I am not leaving this place soon — it is impossible to avoid the Babaji's request. You have expressed remorse at not having reaped any appreciable results by serving the Sadhus. It is true, and yet not true; it is true if you look towards ideal bliss; but if you look behind to the place from which you started, you will find that before you were an animal, now you are a man, and will be a god or God Himself in future. Moreover, that sort of regret and dissatisfaction is very good; it is the prelude to improvement. Without this none can rise. He who puts on a turban and immediately sees the Lord, progresses thus far and no farther. You are blessed indeed to have that constant dissatisfaction preying upon your mind — rest assured that there is no danger for you. . . . You are a keenly intelligent man, and know full well that patience is the best means of success. In this respect I have no doubt that we light-headed boys have much to learn from you. . . . You are a considerate man, and I need not add anything. Man has two ears but one mouth. You specially are given to plain-speaking and are chary of making large promises — things that sometimes make me cross with you, but upon reflection I find that it is you who have acted with discretion. "Slow but sure." "What is lost in power is gained in speed." However, in this world everything depends upon one's words. To get an insight behind the words (specially, with your economical spirit masking all) is not given to all, and one must associate long with a man to be able to understand him. . . . Religion is not in sects, nor in making a fuss — why do you forget these teachings of our revered Master? Please help as far as it lies in you, but to judge what came of it, whether it was turned to good or evil account, is perhaps beyond our jurisdiction. . . . Considering the great shock which Girish Babu has received, it will give him immense peace to serve Mother at this moment. He is a very keen-witted person. And our beloved Master had perfect confidence in you, used to dine nowhere else except at your place, and, I have heard, Mother too has the fullest confidence in you. In view of these, you will please bear and forbear all shortcomings of us fickle boys, treating them as if they were done by your own boy. This is all I have got to say. Please let me know by return of post when the Anniversary is to take place. A pain in the loins is giving me much trouble. In a few days the place will look exceedingly beautiful, with miles and miles of rose-banks all in flower. Satish says he will then send some fresh roses and cuttings for the Festival. . . . May the Lord ordain that your son becomes a man, and never a coward!

    Yours affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    PS. If Mother has come, please convey to her my countless salutations, and ask her to bless me that I may have unflinching perseverance. Or, if that be impossible in this body, may it fall off soon!

    V

    ( Translated from Bengali)

    GHAZIPUR,

    14th Feb. ,1890.

    MY DEAR GUPTA (Swami Sadananda),

    I hope you are doing well. Do your own spiritual exercises, and knowing yourself to be the humblest servant of all, serve them. Those with whom you are staying are such that even I am not worthy to call myself their humblest servant and take the dust of their feet. Knowing this, serve them and have devotion for them. Don't be angry even if they abuse or even hurt you grievously. Never mix with women. Try to be hardy little by little, and gradually accustom yourself to maintaining the body out of the proceeds of begging. Whoever takes the name of Ramakrishna, know him to be your Guru. Everyone can play the role of a master, but it is very difficult to be a servant. Specially you should follow Shashi. Know it for certain that without steady devotion for the Guru and unflinching patience and perseverance, nothing is to be achieved. You must have strict morality. Deviate an inch from this, and you are gone forever.

    Yours affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    VI

    ( Translated from Bengali)

    Glory to Ramakrishna!

    GHAZIPUR,

    15th March, 1890.

    REVERED SIR (Shri Balaram Bose),

    Received your kind note yesterday. I am very sorry to learn that Suresh Babu's illness is extremely serious. What is destined will surely happen. It is a matter of great regret that you too have fallen ill. So long as egoism lasts, any shortcoming in adopting remedial measures is to be considered as idleness — it is a fault and a guilt. For one who has not that egoistic idea, the best course is to forbear. The dwelling-place of the Jivâtman, this body, is a veritable means of work, and he who converts this into an infernal den is guilty, and he who neglects it is also to blame. Please act according to circumstances as they present themselves, without the least hesitation.


    — "The highest duty consists in doing the little that lies in one's power, seeking neither death nor life, and biding one's time like a servant ready to do any behest."

    There is a dreadful outbreak of influenza at Varanasi and Pramada Babu has gone to Allahabad. Baburam has suddenly come here. He has got fever; he was wrong to start under such circumstances. . . . I am leaving this place tomorrow. . . . My countless salutations to Mother. You all bless me that I may have sameness of vision, that after avoiding the bondages which one is heir to by one's very birth, I may not again get stuck in self-imposed bondages. If there be any Doer of good and if He have the power and the opportunity, may He vouchsafe the highest blessings unto you all — this is my constant prayer.

    Yours affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    VII

    ( Translated from Bengali)

    GHAZIPUR,

    15th March, 1890.

    DEAR ATUL BABU (Atul Chandra Ghosh.),

    I am extremely sorry to hear that you are passing through mental afflictions. Please do only what is agreeable to you.


    — "While there is birth there is death, and again entering the mother's womb. This is the manifest evil of transmigration. How, O man, dost thou want satisfaction in such a world!"

    Yours affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    PS. I am leaving this place tomorrow. Let me see which way destiny leads!

    VIII

    SALEM (U.S.A.),

    30th Aug., 1893.

    DEAR ADHYAPAKJI (HONOURABLE PROFESSOR) (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    I am going off from here today. I hope you have received some reply from Chicago. I have received an invitation with full directions from Mr. Sanborn. So I am going to Saratoga on Monday. My respects to your wife. And my love to Austin and all the children. You are a real Mahâtmâ (a great soul) and Mrs. Wright is nonpareil.

    Yours affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    IX

    SALEM,

    Saturday, 4th Sept. , 1893.

    DEAR ADHYAPAKJI (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    I hasten to tender my heartfelt gratitude to you for your letters of introduction. I have received a letter from Mr. Theles of Chicago giving me the names of some of the delegates and other things about the Congress.

    Your professor of Sanskrit in his note to Miss Sanborn mistakes me for Purushottama Joshi and states that there is a Sanskrit library in Boston the like of which can scarcely be met with in India. I would be so happy to see it.

    Mr. Sanborn has written to me to come over to Saratoga on Monday and I am going accordingly. I would stop then at a boarding house called Sanatorium. If any news come from Chicago in the meanwhile I hope you will kindly send it over to the Sanatorium, Saratoga.

    You and your noble wife and sweet children have made an impression in my brain which is simply indelible, and I thought myself so much nearer to heaven when living with you. May He, the giver of all gifts, shower on your head His choicest blessings.

    Here are a few lines written as an attempt at poetry. Hoping your love will pardon this infliction.

    Ever your friend,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    O'er hill and dale and mountain range,

    In temple, church, and mosque,

    In Vedas, Bible, Al Koran

    I had searched for Thee in vain.

    Like a child in the wildest forest lost

    I have cried and cried alone,

    "Where art Thou gone, my God, my love?"

    The echo answered, "gone."

    And days and nights and years then passed —

    A fire was in the brain;

    I knew not when day changed in night,

    The heart seemed rent in twain.

    I laid me down on Gangâ's shore,

    Exposed to sun and rain;

    With burning tears I laid the dust

    And wailed with waters' roar.

    I called on all the holy names

    Of every clime and creed,

    "Show me the way, in mercy, ye

    Great ones who have reached the goal".

    Years then passed in bitter cry,

    Each moment seemed an age,

    Till one day midst my cries and groans

    Some one seemed calling me.

    A gentle soft and soothing voice

    That said "my son", "my son",

    That seemed to thrill in unison

    With all the chords of my soul.

    I stood on my feet and tried to find

    The place the voice came from;

    I searched and searched and turned to see

    Round me, before, behind.

    Again, again it seemed to speak —

    The voice divine to me.

    In rapture all my soul was hushed,

    Entranced, enthralled in bliss.

    A flash illumined all my soul;

    The heart of my heart opened wide.

    O joy, O bliss, what do I find!

    My love, my love, you are here,

    And you are here, my love, my all!

    And I was searching thee!

    From all eternity you were there

    Enthroned in majesty!

    From that day forth, where'er I roam,

    I feel Him standing by

    O'er hill and dale, high mount and vale,

    Far far away and high.

    The moon's soft light, the stars so bright,

    The glorious orb of day,

    He shines in them; His beauty — might —

    Reflected lights are they.

    The majestic morn, the melting eve,

    The boundless billowy sea,

    In nature's beauty, songs of birds,

    I see through them — it is He.

    When dire calamity seizes me,

    The heart seems weak and faint,

    All nature seems to crush me down,

    With laws that never bend.

    Meseems I hear Thee whispering sweet

    My love, "I am near", "I am near".

    My heart gets strong. With Thee, my love,

    A thousand deaths no fear.

    Thou speakest in the mother's lay

    That shuts the baby's eye;

    When innocent children laugh and play

    I see Thee standing by.

    When holy friendship shakes the hand,

    He stands between them too;

    He pours the nectar in mother's kiss

    And the baby's sweet "mama".

    Thou wert my God with prophets old;

    All creeds do come from Thee;

    The Vedas, Bible, and Koran bold

    Sing Thee in harmony.

    "Thou art", "Thou art" the Soul of souls

    In the rushing stream of life.

    "Om tat Sat om." (Tat Sat means that only real existence. [Swamiji's note].)

    Thou art my God.

    My love, I am thine, I am thine.

    X

    CHICAGO,

    2nd October, 1893.

    DEAR ADHYAPAKJI (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    I do not know what you are thinking of my long silence. In the first place I dropped in on the Congress in the eleventh hour, and quite unprepared; and that kept me very very busy for some time. Secondly, I was speaking almost every day in the Congress and had no time to write; and last and greatest of all — my kind friend, I owe so much to you that it would have been an insult to your ahetuka (unselfish) friendship to have written you business-like letters in a hurry. The Congress is now over.

    Dear brother, I was so so afraid to stand before that great assembly of fine speakers and thinkers from all over the world and speak; but the Lord gave me strength, and I almost every day heroically (?) faced the platform and the audience. If I have done well, He gave me the strength for it; if I have miserably failed — I knew that beforehand — for I am hopelessly ignorant.

    Your friend Prof. Bradley was very kind to me and he always cheered me on. And oh! everybody is so kind here to me who am nothing — that it is beyond my power of expression. Glory unto Him in the highest in whose sight the poor ignorant monk from India is the same as the learned divines of this mighty land. And how the Lord is helping me every day of my life, brother — I sometimes wish for a life of [a] million million ages to serve Him through the work, dressed in rags and fed by charity.

    Oh, how I wished that you were here to see some of our sweet ones from India — the tender-hearted Buddhist Dharmapala, the orator Mazoomdar — and realise that in that far-off and poor India there are hearts that beat in sympathy to yours, born and brought up in this mighty and great country.

    My eternal respects to your holy wife; and to your sweet children my eternal love and blessings.

    Col. Higginson, a very broad man, told me that your daughter had written to his daughter about me; and he was very sympathetic to me. I am going to Evanston tomorrow and hope to see Prof. Bradley there.

    May He make us all more and more pure and holy so that we may live a perfect spiritual life even before throwing off this earthly body.

    VIVEKANANDA.

    [The letter continues on a separate sheet of paper:]

    I am now going to be reconciled to my life here. All my life I have been taking every circumstance as coming from Him and calmly adapting myself to it. At first in America I was almost out of my water. I was afraid I would have to give up the accustomed way of being guided by the Lord and cater for myself — and what a horrid piece of mischief and ingratitude was that. I now clearly see that He who was guiding me on the snow tops of the Himalayas and the burning plains of India is here to help me and guide me. Glory unto Him in the highest. So I have calmly fallen into my old ways. Somebody or other gives me a shelter and food, somebody or other comes to ask me to speak about Him, and I know He sends them and mine is to obey. And then He is supplying my necessities, and His will be done!

    "He who rests [in] Me and gives up all other self-assertion and struggles I carry to him whatever he needs" (Gitâ).

    So it is in Asia. So in Europe. So in America. So in the deserts of India. So in the rush of business in America. For is He not here also? And if He does not, I only would take for granted that He wants that I should lay aside this three minutes' body of clay — and hope to lay it down gladly.

    We may or may not meet, brother. He knows. You are great, learned, and holy. I dare not preach to you or your wife; but to your children I quote these passages from the Vedas —

    "The four Vedas, sciences, languages, philosophy, and all other learnings are only ornamental. The real learning, the true knowledge is that which enables us to reach Him who is unchangeable in His love."

    "How real, how tangible, how visible is He through whom the skin touches, the eyes see, and the world gets its reality!"

    "Hearing Him nothing remains to be heard,

    Seeing Him nothing remains to be seen,

    Attaining Him nothing remains to be attained."

    "He is the eye of our eyes, the ear of our ears, the Soul of our souls."

    He is nearer to you, my dears, than even your father and mother. You are innocent and pure as flowers. Remain so, and He will reveal Himself unto you. Dear Austin, when you are playing, there is another playmate playing with you who loves you more than anybody else; and Oh, He is so full of fun. He is always playing — sometimes with great big balls which we call the sun and earth, sometimes with little children like you and laughing and playing with you. How funny it would be to see Him and play with Him! My dear, think of it.

    Dear Adhyapakji, I am moving about just now. Only when I come to Chicago, I always go to see Mr. and Mrs. Lyons, one of the noblest couples I have seen here. If you would be kind enough to write to me, kindly address it to the care of Mr. John B. Lyon, 262 Michigan Ave., Chicago.

    "He who gets hold of the One in this world of many — the one constant existence in a world of flitting shadows — the one life in a world of death — he alone crosses this sea of misery and struggle. None else, none else" (Vedas). "He who is the Brahman of the Vedântins, Ishvara of the Naiyâyikas, Purusha of the Sânkhyas, cause of the Mimâmsakas, law of the Buddhists, absolute zero of the Atheists, and love infinite unto those that love, may [He] take us all under His merciful protection": Udayanâchârya — a great philosopher of the Nyâya or Dualistic school. And this is the Benediction pronounced at the very beginning of his wonderful book Kusumânjali (A handful of flowers), in which he attempts to establish the existence of a personal creator and moral ruler of infinite love independently of revelation.

    Your ever grateful friend,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XI

    CHICAGO,

    10th October, 1893.

    DEAR MRS. TANNATT WOODS,

    I received your letter yesterday. Just now I am lecturing about Chicago — and am doing as I think very well; it is ranging from 30 to 80 dollars a lecture, and just now I have been so well advertised in Chicago gratis by the Parliament of Religions that it is not advisable to give up this field now. To which I am sure you will agree. However I may come soon to Boston, but when I cannot say. Yesterday I returned from Streator where I got 87 dollars for a lecture. I have engagements every day this week. And hope more will come by the end of the week. My love to Mr. Woods and compliments to all our friends.

    Yours truly,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XII

    C/O J. LYON,

    262 MICHIGAN AVENUE, CHICAGO,

    26th October, 1893.

    DEAR ADHYAPAKJI (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    You would be glad to know that I am doing well here and that almost everybody has been very kind to me, except of course the very orthodox. Many of the men brought together here from far-off lands have got projects and ideas and missions to carry out, and America is the only place where there is a chance of success for everything. But I thought better and have given up speaking about my project entirely — because I am sure now — the heathen draws more than his project. So I want to go to work earnestly for my own project only keeping the project in the background and working like any other lecturer.

    He who has brought me hither and has not left me yet will not leave me ever I am here. You will be glad to know that I am doing well and expect to do very well in the way of getting money. Of course I am too green in the business but would soon learn my trade. I am very popular in Chicago. So I want to stay here a little more and get money.

    Tomorrow I am going to lecture on Buddhism at the ladies' fortnightly club — which is the most influential in this city. How to thank you my kind friend or Him who brought you to me; for now I think the success of my project probable, and it is you who have made it so.

    May blessings and happiness attend every step of your progress in this world.

    My love and blessings to your children.

    Yours affectionately ever,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XIII

    541 DEARBORN AVENUE, CHICAGO,

    19th November, 1893.

    DEAR MRS. WOODS,

    Excuse my delay in answering your letter. I do not know when I will be able to see you again. I am starting tomorrow for Madison and Minneapolis.

    The English gentleman you speak of is Dr. Momerie of London. He is a well-known worker amongst the poor of London and is a very sweet man. You perhaps do not know that the English church was the only religious denomination in the world who did not send to us a representative, and Dr. Momerie came to the Parliament in spite of the Archbishop of Canterbury's denouncing of the Parliament of Religions.

    My love for you, my kind friend, and your noble son is all the same whether I write pretty often or not.

    Can you express my books and the cover-all to the care of Mr. Hale? I am in need of them. The express will be paid here.

    The blessings of the Lord on you and yours.

    Ever your friend,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    PS. If you have the occasion to write to Miss Sanborn and others of our friends in the east, kindly give them my deepest respects.

    Yours truly,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XIV

    DETROIT,

    17th March, 1894.

    DEAR SISTER (Miss Harriet McKindley of Chicago.),

    Got your package yesterday. Sorry that you send those stockings — I could have got some myself here. Glad that it shows your love. After all, the satchel has become more than a thoroughly stuffed sausage. I do not know how to carry it along.

    I have returned today to Mrs. Bagley's as she was sorry that I would remain so long with Mr. Palmer. Of course in Palmer's house there was real "good time". He is a real jovial heartwhole fellow, and likes "good time" a little too much and his "hot Scotch". But he is right along innocent and childlike in his simplicity.

    He was very sorry that I came away, but I could not help. Here is a beautiful young girl. I saw her twice, I do not remember her name. So brainy, so beautiful, so spiritual, so unworldly! Lord bless her! She came this morning with Mrs. M'cDuvel and talked so beautifully and deep and spiritually — that I was quite astounded. She knows everything about the Yogis and is herself much advanced in practice!!

    "Thy ways are beyond searching out." Lord bless her — so innocent, holy, and pure! This is the grandest recompense in my terribly toilsome, miserable life — the finding of holy happy faces like you from time to time. The great Buddhist prayer is, "I bow down to all holy men on earth". I feel the real meaning of this prayer whenever I see a face upon which the finger of the Lord has written in unmistakable letters "mine". May you all be happy, blessed, good and pure as you are for ever and ever. May your feet never touch the mud and dirt of this terrible world. May you live and pass away like flowers as you are born — is the constant prayer of your brother.

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XV

    DETROIT,

    29th March, 1894.

    DEAR BROTHER, *

    Your letter just reached me here. I am in a hurry, so excuse a few points which I would take the liberty of correcting you in.

    In the first place, I have not one word to say against any religion or founder of religion in the world — whatever you may think of our religion. All religions are sacred to me. Secondly, it is a misstatement that I said that missionaries do not learn our vernaculars. I still stick to my statement that few, if any, of them pay any attention to Sanskrit; nor is it true that I said anything against any religious body — except that I do insist on my statement that India can never be converted to Christianity, and further I deny that the conditions of the lower classes are made any better by Christianity, and add that the majority of southern Indian Christians are not only Catholics, but what they call themselves, caste Christians, that is, they stick close to their castes, and I am thoroughly persuaded that if the Hindu society gives up its exclusive policy, ninety per cent of them would rush back to Hinduism with all its defects.

    Lastly, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for calling me your fellow-countryman. This is the first time any European foreigner, born in India though he be, has dared to call a detested native by that name — missionary or no missionary. Would you dare call me the same in India? Ask your missionaries, born in India, to do the same — and those not born, to treat them as fellow human beings. As to the rest, you yourself would call me a fool if I admit that my religion or society submits to be judged by strolling globe-trotters or story-writers' narratives.

    My brother — excuse me — what do you know of my society or religion, though born in India? It is absolutely impossible — the society is so closed; and over and above, everyone judges from his preconceived standard of race and religion, does he not? Lord bless you for calling me a fellow-countryman. There may still come a brotherly love and fellowship between the East and West.

    Yours fraternally,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XVI

    NEW YORK,

    25th April, 1894.

    DEAR PROFESSOR (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    I am very very grateful for your invitation. And will come on May 7th. As for the bed — my friend, your love and noble heart can convert the stone into down.

    I am sorry I am not going to the authors' breakfast at Salem.

    I am coming home by May 7th.

    Yours truly,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XVII

    NEW YORK,

    26th April, 1894.

    DEAR SISTER (Miss Isabelle McKindley.),

    Your letter reached me yesterday. You were perfectly right — I enjoyed the fun of the lunatic Interior, ( Chicago Interior, a Presbyterian newspaper which opposed Swamiji. — Ed.) but the mail you sent yesterday from India was really, as Mother Church says in her letter, a good news after a long interval. There is a beautiful letter from Dewanji. The old man — Lord bless him — offers as usual to help me. Then there was a little pamphlet published in Calcutta about me — revealing that once at least in my life the prophet has been honoured in his own country. There are extracts from American and Indian papers and magazines about me. The extracts printed from Calcutta papers were especially gratifying, although the strain is so fulsome that I refuse to send the pamphlet over to you. They call me illustrious, wonderful, and all sorts of nonsense, but they forward me the gratitude of the whole nation. Now I do not care what they even of my own people say about me — except for one thing. I have an old mother. She has suffered much all her life and in the midst of all she could bear to give me up for the service of God and man; but to have given up the most beloved of her children — her hope — to live a beastly immoral life in a far distant country, as Mazoomdar was telling in Calcutta, would have simply killed her. But the Lord is great, none can injure His children.

    The cat is out of the bag — without my seeking at all. And who do you think is the editor of one of our leading papers which praise me so much and thank God that I came to America to represent Hinduism? Mazoomdar's cousin!! — Poor Mazoomdar — he has injured his cause by telling lies through jealousy. Lord knows I never attempted any defence.

    I read the article of Mr. Gandhi in the Forum before this.

    If you have got the Review of Reviews of last month — read to mother the testimony about the Hindus in connection with the opium question in India by one of the highest officials of the English in India. He compares the English with the Hindus and lauds the Hindu to the skies. Sir Lepel Griffin was one of the bitterest enemies of our race. What made this change of front?

    I had a very good time in Boston at Mrs. Breed's — and saw Prof. Wright. I am going to Boston again. The tailor is making my new gown. I am going to speak at Cambridge University [Harvard] and would be the guest of Prof. Wright there. They write grand welcomes to me in the Boston papers.

    I am tired of all this nonsense. Towards the latter part of May I will come back to Chicago, and after a few day's stay would come back to the East again.

    I spoke last night at the Waldorf hotel. Mrs. Smith sold tickets at $2 each. I had a full hall which by the way was a small one. I have not seen anything of the money yet. Hope to see in the course of the day.

    I made a hundred dollars at Lynn which I do not send because I have to make my new gown and other nonsense.

    Do not expect to make any money at Boston. Still I must touch the brain of America and stir it up if I can.

    Your loving brother,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XVIII

    NEW YORK,

    2nd [ actually 1st] May, 1894.

    DEAR SISTER (Miss Isabelle McKindley.),

    I am afraid I cannot send you the pamphlet just now. But I got a little bit of a newspaper cutting from India yesterday which I send you up. After you have read it kindly send it over to Mrs. Bagley. The editor of this paper is a relative of Mr. Mazoomdar. I am now sorry for poor Mazoomdar!! (The last two sentences were written crosswise on the left margin.)

    I could not find the exact orange colour of my coat here, so I have been obliged to satisfy myself with the next best — a cardinal red with more of yellow.

    The coat will be ready in a few days.

    Got about $70 the other day by lecturing at Waldorf. And hope to get some more by tomorrow's lecture.

    From 7th to 19th there are engagements in Boston, but they pay very little.

    Yesterday I bought a pipe for $13 — meerschaum do not tell it to father Pope. The coat will cost $30. I am all right getting food . . . and money enough. Hope very soon to put something in the bank after the coming lecture.

    . . . in the evening I am going to speak in a vegetarian dinner! Well, I am a vegetarian . . ., because I prefer it when I can get it. I have another invitation to lunch with Lyman Abbott day after tomorrow. After all, I am having very nice time and hope to have very nice time in Boston — only that nasty nasty lecturing — disgusting. However as soon as 19th is over — one leap from Boston . . . to Chicago . . . and then I will have a long long breath and rest, rest for two three weeks. I will simply sit down and talk — talk and smoke.

    By the by, your New York people are very good — only more money than brains.

    I am going to speak to the students of the Harvard University. Three lectures at Boston, three at Harvard — all arranged by Mrs. Breed. They are arranging something here too, so that I will, on my way to Chicago, come to New York once more — give them a few hard raps and pocket the boodle and fly to Chicago.

    If you want anything from New York or Boston which cannot be had at Chicago — write sharp. I have plenty of dollars now. I will send you over anything you want in a minute. Don't think it would be indelicate anyway — no humbug about me. If I am a brother so I am. I hate only one thing in the world — hypocrisy.

    Your affectionate brother,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XIX

    NEW YORK,

    4th May, 1894.

    DEAR ADHYAPAKJI (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    I have received your kind note just now. And it is unnecessary for me to say that I will be very happy to do as you say.

    I have also received Col. Higginson's letter. I will reply to him.

    I will be in Boston on Sunday [May 6]. On Monday I lecture at the Women's Club of Mrs. Howe.

    Yours ever truly,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XX

    17 BEACON STREET, BOSTON,

    May, 1894.

    DEAR ADHYAPAKJI (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    By this time you have got the pamphlet and the letters. If you like, I would send you over from Chicago some letters from Indian Princes and ministers — one of these ministers was one of the Commissioners of the late opium commission that sat under Royal Commission in India. If you like, I will have them write to you to convince you of my not being a cheat. But, my brother, our ideal of life is to hide, to suppress, and to deny.

    We are to give up and not to take. Had I not the "Fad" in my head, I would never have come over here. And it was with a hope that it would help my cause that I joined the Parliament of Religions — having always refused it when our people wanted to send me for it. I came over telling them — "that I may or may not join that assembly — and you may send me over if you like". They sent me over leaving me quite free.

    You did the rest.

    I am morally bound to afford you every satisfaction, my kind friend; but for the rest of the world I do not care what they say — the Sannyasin must not have self-defence. So I beg of you not to publish or show anybody anything in that pamphlet or the letters. I do not care for the attempts of the old missionary; but the fever of jealousy which attacked Mazoomdar gave me a terrible shock, and I pray that he would know better — for he is a great and good man who has tried all his life to do good. But this proves one of my Master's sayings, "Living in a room covered with black soot — however careful you may be — some spots must stick to your clothes." So, however one may try to be good and holy, so long he is in the world, some part of his nature must gravitate downwards.

    The way to God is the opposite to that of the world. And to few, very few, are given to have God and mammon at the same time.

    I was never a missionary, nor ever would be one — my place is in the Himalayas. I have satisfied myself so far that I can with a full conscience say, "My God, I saw terrible misery amongst my brethren; I searched and discovered the way out of it, tried my best to apply the remedy, but failed. So Thy will be done."

    May his blessings be on you and yours for ever and ever.

    Yours affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    541 DEARBORN AVE., CHICAGO

    I go to Chicago tomorrow or day after.

    Yours

    V.

    XXI

    541 DEARBORN AVE.,

    CHICAGO,

    24th May, 1894.

    DEAR ADHYAPAKJI (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    Herewith I forward to you a letter from one of our ruling princes of Rajputana, His Highness the Maharaja of Khetri, and another from the opium commissioner, late minister of Junagad, one of the largest states in India, and a man who is called the Gladstone of India. These I hope would convince you of my being no fraud.

    One thing I forgot to tell you. I never identified myself anyway with Mr. Mazoomdar's party chief. (Evidently, Keshab Chandra Sen.) If he says so, he does not speak the truth.

    I hope, after your perusal, you will kindly send the letters over to me, except the pamphlet which I do not care for.

    I am bound, my dear friend, to give you every satisfaction of my being a genuine Sannyasin, but to you alone. I do not care what the rabbles say or think about me.

    "Some would call you a saint, some a chandala; some a lunatic, others a demon. Go on then straight to thy work without heeding either" — thus saith one of our great Sannyasins, an old emperor of India, King Bhartrihari, who joined the order in old times.

    May the Lord bless you for ever and ever. My love to all your children and my respects to your noble wife.

    I remain ever your friend,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    PS. — I had connection with Pundit Shiva Nath Shastri's party — but only on points of social reform. Mazoomdar and Chandra Sen — I always considered as not sincere, and I have no reason to change my opinion even now. Of course in religious matters even with my friend Punditji I differed much, the chief being, I thinking Sannyasa or (giving up the world) the highest ideal, and he, a sin. So the Brahmo Samajists consider becoming a monk a sin!!

    Yours,

    V.

    The Brahmo Samaj, like Christian Science in your country, spread in Calcutta for a certain time and then died out. I am not sorry, neither glad that it died. It has done its work — viz social reform. Its religion was not worth a cent, and so it must die out. If Mazoomdar thinks I was one of the causes of its death, he errs. I am even now a great sympathiser of its reforms; but the "booby" religion could not hold its own against the old "Vedanta". What shall I do? Is that my fault? Mazoomdar has become childish in his old age and takes to tactics not a whit better than some of your Christian missionaries. Lord bless him and show him better ways.

    Yours,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    When are you going to Annisquam? My love to Austin and Bime. My respects to your wife; and for you my love and gratitude is too deep for expression.

    Yours ever affectionately,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    XXII

    541 DEARBORN AVENUE,

    18th June, 1894.

    DEAR ADHYAPAKJI (Prof. John Henry Wright),

    Excuse my delay in sending the other letters; I could not find them earlier. I am going to New York in a week.

    I do not know whether I will come to Annisquam or not. The letters need not be sent over to me until I write you again. Mrs. Bagley seems to be unsettled by that article in the Boston paper against me. * She sent me over a copy from Detroit and has ceased correspondence with me. Lord bless her. She has been very kind to me.

    Stout hearts like yours are not common, my brother. This is a queer place — this world of ours. On the whole I am very very thankful to the Lord for the amount of kindness I have received at the hands of the people of this country — I, a complete stranger here without even "credentials". Everything works for the best.

    Yours ever in gratitude,

    VIVEKANANDA.

    PS. The East India stamps are for your children if they like.