marriage of Harriet, he wrote to her on September 17, 1896, 'Marriage is the truest goal
for ninety-nine per cent of the human race, and they will live the happiest life as soon
as they have learnt and are ready to abide by the eternal lesson — that we are bound to
bear and forbear and that to everyone life must be a compromise.' He sent the young
lady his blessings in these terms: 'May you always enjoy the undivided love of your
husband, helping him in attaining all that is desirable in this life, and when you have
seen your children's children, and the drama of life is nearing its end, may you help
each other in reaching that infinite ocean of Existence, Knowledge, and Bliss, at the
touch of whose waters all distinctions melt away and we all become One.'
But Mary Hale could not make a decision between marriage and lifelong celibacy. She
was full of idealism and the spirit of independence; but she was warm in her affection.
Swami Vivekananda was particularly fond of Mary. On the day he wrote to Harriet he
also wrote to Mary, congratulating Harriet for her discrimination, and prophesying for
her a life of joy and sweetness, since she was 'not so imaginative and sentimental as to
make a fool of herself and has enough of common sense and gentleness to soften the
hard points of life which must come to everyone.' But he wanted to tell Mary 'the truth,
and my language is plain.' He wrote:
My dear Mary, I will tell you a great lesson I have learnt in this life. It is this: 'The
higher your ideal is, the more miserable you are,' for such a thing as an ideal cannot be
attained in the world — or in this life, even. He who wants perfection in the world is a
madman — for it cannot be. How can you find the infinite in the finite?
You, Mary, are like a mettlesome Arab — grand, splendid. You would make a
splendid queen — physically, mentally — you would shine alongside of a dashing,
bold, adventurous, heroic husband. But, my dear sister, you will make one of the worst
wives. You will take the life out of our easy-going, practical, plodding husbands of the
everyday world. Mind, my sister, although it is true that there is much more romance in
actual life than in any novel, yet it is few and far between. Therefore my advice to you
is that until you bring down your ideals to a more practical level, you ought not to
marry. If you do, the result will be misery for both of you. In a few months you will
lose all regard for a commonplace, good, nice young man, and then life will become
insipid....
There are two sorts of persons in the world — the one strong-nerved, quiet, yielding to
nature, not given to much imagination, yet good, kind, sweet, etc. For such is this
world — they alone are born to be happy. There are others, again, with high-strung
nerves, tremendously imaginative, with intense feeling — always going high, and
coming down the next moment. For them there is no happiness. The first class will
have almost an even tenor of happiness. The second will have to run between ecstasy
and misery. But of these alone what we call geniuses are made. There is some truth in a
recent theory that genius is 'a sort of madness.'
Now persons of this class, if they want to be great, must fight to be so — clear the deck