| |
Letters written from Ridgely Manor
(August to November)
To Miss Isabelle McKindley
RIDGELY MANOR
STONE RIDGE, N.Y.
31st August '99
MY DEAR ISABEL —
Many thanks for your kind note. I will be so, so glad to see you. Miss M'cLeod [MacLeod] is going to write you to stop a day and a night here on your way to the West.
My love to the holy family in Chicago, and hope surely to be able to come West and have great fun.
So you are in Greenacre at last. Is this the first year you have been there? How do you like the place? [You have] seen Miss Farmer, of course. Kindly convey her my kindest regards and to all the rest of my friends there.
Ever yours affectionately,
VIVEKANANDA
RIDGELY,
2nd September, 1899.
DEAR —,
. . . Life is a series of fights and disillusionments. . . . The secret of life is not enjoyment, but education through experience. But, alas, we are called off the moment we begin really to learn. That seems to be a potent argument for a future existence. . . . Everywhere it is better to have a whirlwind come over the work. That clears the atmosphere and gives us a true insight into the nature of things. It is begun anew, but on adamantine foundations. . . .
Yours with best wishes,
VIVEKANANDA.
Ridgely,
4th Sept., 1899.
Dear Mrs. Bull,
. . . Mother knows best, that is all about me. . . .
Yours etc.,
VIVEKANANDA.
To Mrs. Ole Bull
Ridgely Manor,
4th September, 1899.
My Dear Mother {Mrs. Bull},
It is an awful spell of the bad turn of fortune with me last six months. Misfortune follows me ever wherever I go. In England, Sturdy seems to have got disgusted with the work; he does not see any asceticism in us from India. Here no sooner I reach than Olea gets a bad attack.
Shall I run up to you? I know I cannot be of much help, but I will try my best in being useful.
I hope everything will soon come right with you, and Olea will be restored to perfect health even before this reaches you. Mother knows best; that is all about me.
Ever yours affectionately,
Vivekananda.
To Mr. E. T. Sturdy
RIDGELY MANOR,
14th September, 1899.
MY DEAR STURDY,
I have simply been taking rest at the Leggetts' and doing nothing. Abhedananda is here. He has been working hard.
He goes in a day or two to resume his work in different places for a month. After that he comes to New York to work.
I am trying to do something in the line you suggested, but don't know how far an account of the Hindus will be appreciated by the Western public when it comes from a Hindu. . . .
Mrs. Johnson is of opinion that no spiritual person ought to be ill. It also seems to her now that my smoking is sinful etc., etc. That was Miss Müller's reason for leaving me, my illness. They may be perfectly right, for aught I know — and you too — but I am what I am. In India, the same defects plus eating with Europeans have been taken exception to by many. I was driven out of a private temple by the owners for eating with Europeans. I wish I were malleable enough to be moulded into whatever one desired, but unfortunately I never saw a man who could satisfy everyone. Nor can anyone who has to go to different places possibly satisfy all.
When I first came to America, they ill-treated me if I had not trousers on. Next I was forced to wear cuffs and collars, else they would not touch me etc., etc. They thought me awfully funny if I did not eat what they offered etc., etc. . . .
In India the moment I landed they made me shave my head and wear "Kaupin" (loin cloth), with the result that I got diabetes etc. Saradananda never gave up his underwear — this saved his life, with just a touch of rheumatism and much comment from our people.
Of course, it is my Karma, and I am glad that it is so. For, though it smarts for the time, it is another great experience of life, which will be useful, either in this or in the next. . . .
As for me, I am always in the midst of ebbs and flows. I knew it always and preached always that every bit of pleasure will bring its quota of pain, if not with compound interest. I have a good deal of love given to me by the world; I deserve a good deal of hatred therefore. I am glad it is so — as it proves my theory of "every wave having its corresponding dip" on my own person.
As for me, I stick to my nature and principle — once a friend, always a friend — also the true Indian principle of looking subjectively for the cause of the objective.
I am sure that the fault is mine, and mine only, for every wave of dislike and hatred that I get. It could not be otherwise. Thanking you and Mrs. Johnson for thus calling me once more to the internal,
I remain as ever with love and blessings,
VIVEKANANDA.
To Sister Christine
Ridgely Manor,
20th September 1899.
Dear Christina,
I am much better, thank you. Hitherto, excepting three days, there has not been any wet weather to speak of here. Miss [Margaret] Noble came yesterday, and we are having a jolly good time. I am very, very sorry to say I am growing fat again. That is bad. I wi ll eat less and grow thin once more.
You are again at work--so do I find--only with a little variation of the old occupation. Better rest than mere idling. Do you like my new poem? 138 Miss Noble thinks it is nice. But that is her way with everything I do. So you also say. I will now send my writings to missionary papers to get a fierce criticism.
With all love to you and Mrs. Funkey [Funke],
Ever yours affectionately,
Vvekananda.
To Miss Mary Hale
RIDGELY MANOR,
September 1899.
MY DEAR MARY,
Yes, I have arrived. I had a letter from Isabelle from Greenacre. I hope to see her soon and Harriet. Harriet Woolley has been uniformly silent. Never mind, I will bide my time, and as soon as Mr. Woolley becomes a millionaire, demand my money. You did not write any particulars about Mother Church and Father Pope, only the news of something about me in some newspapers. I have long ceased to take any interest in papers; only they keep me before the public and get a sale of my books "anyway" as you say. Do you know what I am trying to do now? Writing a book on India and her people — a short chatty simple something. Again I am going to learn French. If I fail to do it this year, I cannot "do" the Paris Exposition next year properly. Well, I expect to learn much French here where even the servants talk it.
You never saw Mrs. Leggett, did you? She is simply grand. I am going to Paris next year as their guest, as I did the first time.
I have now got a monastery on the Ganga for the teaching of philosophy and comparative religion and a centre of work.
What have you been doing all this time? Reading? Writing? You did not do anything. You could have written lots by this time. Even if you had taught me French, I would be quite a Froggy now, and you did not, only made me talk nonsense. You never went to Greenacre. I hope it is getting strength every year.
Say, you 24 feet and 600 lbs. of Christian Science, you could not pull me up with your treatments. I am losing much faith in your healing powers. Where is Sam? "Bewaring" all this time as he could; bless his heart, such a noble boy!
I was growing grey fast, but somehow it got checked. I am sorry, only a few grey hairs now; a research will unearth many though. I like it and am going to cultivate a long white goaty. Mother Church and Father Pope were having a fine time on the continent. I saw a bit on my way home. And you have been Cinderella-ing in Chicago — good for you. Persuade the old folks to go to Paris next year and take you along. There must be wonderful sights to see; the French are making a last great struggle, they say, before closing business.
Well, you did not write me long, long. You do not deserve this letter, but — I am so good you know, especially as death is drawing near — I do not want to quarrel with anyone. I am dying to see Isabelle and Harriet. I hope they have got a great supply of healing power at Greenacre Inn and will help me out of my present fall. In my days the Inn was well stored with spiritual food, and less of material stuff. Do you know anything of osteopathy? Here is one in New York working wonders really.
I am going to have my bones searched by him in a week. Where is Miss Howe? She is such a noble soul, such a friend. By the by, Mary, it is curious your family, Mother Church and her clergy, both monastic and secular, have made more impression on me than any family I know of. Lord bless you ever and ever.
I am taking rest now, and the Leggetts are so kind. I feel perfectly at home. I intend to go to New York to see the Dewy procession. I have not seen my friends there.
Write me all about yourselves. I so long to hear. You know Joe Joe of course. I marred their visit to India with my constant break-downs, and they were so good, so forgiving. For years Mrs. Bull and she have been my guardian angels. Mrs. Bull is expected here next week.
She would have been here before this, but her daughter (Olea) had a spell of illness. She suffered much, but is now out of danger. Mrs. Bull has taken one of Leggett's cottages here, and if the cold weather does not set in faster than usual, we are going to have a delightful month here even now. The place is so beautiful — well wooded and perfect lawns.
I tried to play golf the other day; I do not think it difficult at all — only it requires good practice. You never went to Philadelphia to visit your golfing friends? What are your plans? What do you intend to do the rest of your life? Have you thought out any work? Write me a long letter, will you? I saw a lady in the streets of Naples as I was passing, going along with three others, must be Americans, so like you that I was almost going to speak to her; when I came near I saw my mistake. Good-bye for the present. Write sharp. . . .
Ever your affectionate brother,
VIVEKANANDA.
To Miss Mary Hale
RIDGELY MANOR,
3rd October, 1899.
MY DEAR MARY,
Thanks for your very kind words. I am much better now and growing so every day. Mrs. Bull and her daughter are expected today or tomorrow. We hope thus to have another spell of good time — you are having yours all the time, of course. I am glad you are going to Philadelphia, but not so much now as then — when the millionaire was on the horizon. With all love,
Ever your affectionate brother,
VIVEKANANDA.
To Mrs. G. W. Hale
Ridgely Manor
5 October 1899
My dear Mother Church,
Many, many thanks for your kind words.
I am so glad you are working on as ever. I am glad because the wa ve of optimism has not caught you yet. It is all very well to say everything is right, but that is apt to degenerate into a sort of laissez-faire. I believe with you that the world is evil --
made more hideous with a few dashes of good.
All our works have only this value, that they awaken some to the reality of this horror--and [those] flee for refuge to some place beyond, which is called God, or Christ, or Brahma, or Buddha, etc . Names do not make much difference.
Again, we must always remember ours is only to work--
we never attain results. How can we? Good can never be done witho ut doing evil. We cannot breathe a breath without killing thousan ds of poor little animals. National prosperity is another name fo r death and degradation to millions of other races. So is individual prosperity the beggaring of many. The world is evil
--and will ever remain so. It is its nature, and cannot be changed--"Which one of you by taking thought . . ." etc. 139
Such is truth. The wisdom is therefore in renunciation, that is, to make the Lord our all in all. Be a true Christian, Mother--like Christ, renounce everything and let the heart and soul and body belong to Him and Him alone. All this nonsense which people have built round Christ's name is not His teaching. He taught to renounce. He never says the earth is an enjoyable place. And your time has come to get rid of all vanities
--even the love of children and husband--and think of the Lord and Him alone.
Ever your Son,
Vivekananda
To Mrs. G. W. Hale
[Ridgely Manor], New York, N.Y.
23 October 1899
My dear Mother,
I was taking a few days' complete rest and so am late in replying to your very kind note. Accept my congratulations on the anniversary of your marriage. I pray many, many such returns may come to you.
I am sure my previous letter was coloured by the state of my body , as indeed is the whole of existence to us. Yet, Mother, there i s more pain than pleasure in life. If not, why do I remember you and your children almost every day of my life, and not many other s? Happiness is liked so much because it is so rare, is it not? Fifty percent of our life is mere lethargy, ennui; of the rest, forty percent is pain, only ten happiness--and this for the exceptionally fortunate. We are oft-times mixing up this state of ennui with pleasure. It is rather a negative state, whilst both pleasure and pain are nearer positive, though not positive.
Pleasure and pain are both feeling, not willing. They are only processes which convey to the mind excitements or motives of action. The real positive action is the willing, or impulse to work, of the mind--begun when the sensation has been taken in (pleasure and pain); thus the real is neither pleasure nor pain. It has no connection with either. Quite different from either. The barking of the dog awakens his master to guard against a thief or receive his dearest friend. It does not follow, therefore, that the dog and his master are of the same nature or have any degree of kinship. The feelings of pleasure or pain similarly awaken the soul to activity, without any kinship at all.
The soul is beyond pain, beyond pleasure, sufficient in its own nature. And no hell can punish it, nor any heaven can bless it. S o far philosophy.
I am coming soon to Chicago, and hope to say "Lord bless you" to you and your children. All love as usual to my Christian relative s, scientific or quacks.
Vivekananda
To Sister Christine
C/o F. H. Leggett, Esq.,
Ridgely Manor,
Stone Ridge, Ulster Co., N.Y.
25th October 1899.
Dear Christina,
What is the matter with you? Write me a line to tell me how you a re and what you are doing now.
I am tired of this place, and will come down to New York for a fe w days soon. I start thence for Chicago and, if you like, will st op at Detroit on my way to How-do-you-do. I am much better, indeed quite a different man, though not completely cured--for that, time is necessary.
Yours,
Vivekananda.
To Miss Mary Hale
RIDGELY MANOR,
30th October, 1899.
MY DEAR OPTIMIST,
I received your letter and am thankful that something has come to force optimistic laissez faire into action. Your questions have tapped the very source of pessimism, however. British rule in modern India has only one redeeming feature, though unconscious; it has brought India out once more on the stage of the world; it has forced upon it the contact of the outside world. If it had been done with an eye to the good of the people concerned, as circumstances favoured Japan with, the results could have been more wonderful for India. No good can be done when the main idea is blood-sucking. On the whole the old regime was better for the people, as it did not take away everything they had, and there was some justice, some liberty.
A few hundred, modernised, half-educated, and denationalised men are all the show of modern English India — nothing else. The Hindus were 600 million in number according to Ferishta, the Mohammedan historian, in the 12th century — now less than 200 million.
In spite of the centuries of anarchy that reigned during the struggles of the English to conquer, the terrible massacre the English perpetrated in 1857 and 1858, and the still more terrible famines that have become the inevitable consequence of British rule (there never is a famine in a native state) and that take off millions, there has been a good increase of population, but not yet what it was when the country was entirely independent — that is, before the Mohammedan rule. Indian labour and produce can support five times as many people as there are now in India with comfort, if the whole thing is not taken off from them.
This is the state of things — even education will no more be permitted to spread; freedom of the press stopped already, (of course we have been disarmed long ago), the bit of self-government granted to them for some years is being quickly taken off. We are watching what next! For writing a few words of innocent criticism, men are being hurried to transportation for life, others imprisoned without any trial; and nobody knows when his head will be off.
There has been a reign of terror in India for some years. English soldiers are killing our men and outraging our women — only to be sent home with passage and pension at our expense. We are in a terrible gloom — where is the Lord? Mary, you can afford to be optimistic, can I? Suppose you simply publish this letter — the law just passed in India will allow the English Government in India to drag me from here to India and kill me without trial. And I know all your Christian governments will only rejoice, because we are heathens. Shall I also go to sleep and become optimistic? Nero was the greatest optimistic person! They don't think it worth while to write these terrible things as news items even! If necessary, the news agent of Reuter gives the exactly opposite news fabricated to order! Heathen-murdering is only a legitimate pastime for the Christians! Your missionaries go to preach God and dare not speak a word of truth for fear of the English, who will kick them out the next day.
All property and lands granted by the previous governments for supporting education have been swallowed up, and the present Government spends even less than Russia in education. And what education?
The least show of originality is throttled. Mary, it is hopeless with us, unless there really is a God who is the father of all, who is not afraid of the strong to protect the weak, and who is not bribed by wealth. Is there such a God? Time will show.
Well, I think I am coming to Chicago in a few weeks and talk of things fully! Don't quote your authority.
With all love, ever your brother,
VIVEKANANDA.
PS. As for religious sects — the Brahmo Samaj, the Arya Samaj, and other sects have been useless mixtures; they were only voices of apology to our English masters to allow us to live! We have started a new India — a growth — waiting to see what comes. We believe in new ideas only when the nation wants them, and what will be true for us. The test of truth for this Brahmo Samaj is "what our masters approve"; with us, what the Indian reasoning and experience approves. The struggle has begun — not between the Brahmo Samaj and us, for they are gone already, but a harder, deeper, and more terrible one.
V.
To Sister Christine
Rdgely Manor,
30th October 1899.
My dear Christina,
Did you not get my last letter? I am very anxious to know how you are. Write a line to tell me you are in very good health.
I am afraid the previous one was misdirected, so I send this c/o Mrs. Funkey [Funke].
Do write soon. I am thinking of Battle Creek food. 140 Baby insists on that. Do you think it will do me any good? Write soon.
Ever yours in the Lord,
Vivekananda.
PS--Where is this Battle Creek? Is it near Detroit? I am seriousl y thinking of giving it a trial. I am not bad, but unfit for any exertion, even for a walk. This sort of life is no good to live. I [will] try Battle Creek, and if that fails, get out quick.
V.
Write me about Battle Creek.
V.
RIDGELY.
1st Nov., 1899.
DEAR MARGOT, (Margaret E. Noble or Sister Nivedita)
. . . It seems there is a gloom over your mind. Never mind, nothing is to last for ever. Anyhow life is not eternal. I am so, so thankful for it. Suffering is the lot of the world's best and bravest — yet, for aeons yet — till things are righted; if possible, here — at least it is a discipline which breaks the dream. In my sane moments I rejoice for my sufferings. Some one must suffer here; — I am glad it is I, amongst others of nature's sacrifices.
Yours etc.,
VIVEKANANDA.
To Sister Christine
Ridgely Manor,
4th November 1899.
My dear Christina,
The letter was all right in reaching. It was only my nervousness. I am sure you will understand and excuse this. I eagerly expect t o see you in Cambridge. I am going to New York next week. Thence I go for a few days to Washington and then to Cambridge. Do come. And mind you, I must learn German. I am determined to be a French and German scholar. French, I think, I can manage with the help of a dictionary. If I can do that much German in a month, I will be so glad.
It naturally takes time for a letter to reach from here. We have one delivery and one posting a day.
With all love,
Ever yours in the Lord,
Vivekananda.
My eternal love and blessings to Mrs. Funkey [Funke].
|
|
