The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 5/Epistles - First Series/CIII Mary
CIII
The Math, Belur,
Howrah Dist.,
Bengal, India,
18th May, 1901.
My Dear Mary,[1]
Sometimes it is hard work to be tied to the shoestrings of a great name. And
that was just what happened to my letter. You wrote on the 22nd January,
1901. You tied me to the latchet of a great name, Miss MacLeod. Consequently
the letter has been following her up and down the world. Now it reached me
yesterday from Japan, where Miss MacLeod is at present. Well, this,
therefore, is the solution of the sphinx's riddle. "Thou shalt not join a
great name with a small one."
So, Mary, you have been enjoying Florence and Italy, and I do not know where
you be by this time. So, fat old "laidy", I throw this letter to the mercy
of Monroe & Co., 7 rue Scribe.
Now, old "laidy" — so you have been dreaming away in Florence and the
Italian lakes. Good; your poet objects to its being empty though.
Well, devoted sister, how about myself ? I came to India last fall, suffered
all through winter, and went this summer touring through Eastern Bengal and
Assam — through a land of giant rivers and hills and malaria — and after
hard work of two months had a collapse, and am now back to Calcutta slowly
recovering from the effects of it.
The Raja of Khetri died from a fall a few months ago. So you see things are
all gloomy with me just now, and my own health is wretched. Yet I am sure to
bob up soon and am waiting for the next turn.
I wish I were in Europe, just to have a long chat with you, and then return
as quick to India; for, after all, I feel a sort of quiet nowadays, and have
done with three-fourths of my restlessness.
My love to Harriet Woolley, to Isabel, to Harriet McKindley; and to mother
my eternal love and gratitude. Tell mother, the subtle Hindu's gratitude
runs through generations.
Ever yours in the Lord,
Vivekananda.
PS. Write a line when you feel like it.
- Notes
- ↑ Miss Mary Hale.