was a wealthy business man of New York. He and two ladies of his acquaintance, Mrs.
William Sturges and Miss Josephine MacLeod (who were sisters), had attended the
Swami's lectures in New York during the previous winter. They were all impressed by
the Swami's personality and his message, and Mr. Leggett remarked, one day, that the
teacher was a man of 'great common sense.' An intimate relationship gradually
developed between the Swami, the two sisters, and Mr. Leggett. Mrs. Sturges, who was
a widow, and Mr. Leggett became engaged and announced their engagement at the
summer camp at Percy. They decided to be married in Paris, and Mr. Leggett invited
the Swami to be a witness at the ceremony.
This invitation, coming at the same time as Miss Müller's and Mr. Sturdy's seemed to
the Swami, as he described it in a letter, a 'divine call.' The Swami's New York friends
thought that a sea voyage would be most beneficial for his weary body and mind. At
this time the Swami began to feel a premonition of his approaching end. One day he
even said, 'My day is done.' But the awareness of his unfulfilled mission made him
forget his body.
The Swami and Mr. Leggett sailed from New York about the middle of August 1895,
reaching Paris by the end of the month. The French metropolis with its museums,
churches, cathedrals, palaces, and art galleries impressed him as the centre of European
culture, and he was introduced to a number of enlightened French people.
When Swami Vivekananda arrived in London he was enthusiastically greeted by Miss
Müller, who had already met him in America, and Mr. Sturdy, who had studied
Sanskrit and had to a certain degree practised asceticism in the Himalayas. The
Swami's mind, one can imagine, was filled with tumultuous thoughts as he arrived in
the great city. He was eager to test his ability as an interpreter of the spiritual culture of
India in the very citadel of the English-speaking nations. He also knew that he
belonged to a subject race, which had been under the imperialistic domination of
England for almost one hundred and forty years. He attributed India's suffering, at least
in part, to this alien rule. He was not unaware of the arrogance of the British ruling
class in India, to whom India was a benighted country steeped in superstition. Would
the Britishers give a patient hearing to the religion and philosophy of his ancestors, of
which he was so proud? Would they not rather think that nothing good could ever
come 'out of Nazareth'? He did not, as we learn from his own confession, set foot on
English soil with the friendliest of feelings. But how he felt when he left England after
his short visit will be presently described.
After a few days' rest the Swami quietly began his work. Through friends he was
gradually introduced to people who were likely to be interested in his thoughts; he also
devoted part of his time to visiting places of historical interest. Within three weeks of
his arrival he was already engaged in strenuous activity. A class was started and soon
the hall was found inadequate to accommodate the students. Newspapers interviewed
him and called him the 'Hindu yogi.' Lady Isabel Margesson and several other
members of the nobility became attracted to the Swami's teachings. His first public
lecture was attended by many educated and thoughtful people; some of the leading
newspapers were enthusiastic about it. The Standard compared his moral stature with