Coming from afar are the voices of the Silence. Rarely are they heard, save by mystics and sages. And when one of these voices becomes embodied as sound audible to mortal hearing, blessed is the time and blessed are those who hear. Formless is the Spirit and subjective is the vision thereof; dense is the illusion that hangs as the cosmic veil before Reality! How divine, therefore, must be the personality that makes objective the vision of the Spirit! How priceless the history of one who has lifted even a fringe of the veil! The illusion becomes transparent in the effulgence of such a spiritual personality. Verily, the Spirit Itself becomes revealed; and those who see are brought face to face with Reality!_x000d_ To introduce the life of Swami Vivekananda is to introduce the subject of spiritual life itself All the intellectual struggle, all the doubts, all the burning faith, all the unfolding process of spiritual illumination were revealed in him. As a man and as a Vedantist he manifested the manliness that is sanctity, and the sanctity that is manliness; he manifested the patriotism that proceeds from the vision of the Dharma and the universality that comes when God is seen in everything; and through the true insight of divine wisdom, he lived a life of both intense activity and Supreme Realization. Indeed, his life revealed throughout, the glory of the supersensuous life._x000d_ To the task of writing his life, we fervently set ourselves, conscious of unworthiness; for who can know the inner self of even the least of men, much less that of a Vivekananda! And who can sound the depths of his realization! The task is, in a way, beyond us, yet the world must know the greatness of the life that has thrilled it through its Eastern heart and Western mind.

An interesting story is told of Durgaprasad's return to his birthplace, one that reveals the essential strength and quality of the man, Quite unostentatiously he made his way into Calcutta and, instead of going to his former home, put up at the house of an old friend, begging him not to let anyone know of his return. But the friend was unable to contain the joyous news and informed Durgaprasad's relatives, who at once came and forcibly took him away with them. The monk, without a word, seated himself in a corner of the room provided for him, the door of which had been locked so that he might not escape. For three days he stayed there without giving any sign or tasting a bite of food. The relatives, fearing that he might die; finally opened the door. Later, the monk disappeared and, except for a rumour that he had become the head of a monastery in Varanasi, was never again heard of by the Datta family.

In striving to account for the exceptional genius of Swami Vivekananda, one must not lose sight of the impressive figure of his grandfather, the man who deemed the world well lost in his search for God. Vivekananda's pronounced tendency towards the monastic life was "in his blood"-as we say to explain those inexplicable outcroppings of family traits and tendencies that are at times so remarkable that, in order to satisfy ourselves, we must accept either the theory of reincarnation or that of heredity.

After his father had renounced the world, Vishwanath's uncle, Kaliprasad, became the head of the family. Since he had no income of his own, the Dattas' accumulated wealth had to be spent to maintain the large joint family. Thus they gradually became poorer and poorer. Nor was Kaliprasad a generous hearted person, which would explain why Vishwanath's courageous mother had to bring up her son in considerable difficulty, though legally he was the inheritor of half the family property.

As Vishwanath grew to manhood he became the pride of the Dattas, who, in high hopes and expectation, looked to him to carry on the family tradition of learning. Nor were they disappointed. He became proficient in Bengali, English, persian, Arabic, Urdu and Hindi. He also studied Sanskrit in a tol, a traditional Sanskrit school. History was his forte, but in addition he acquired a fairly good knowledge of astrology, and later on was himself able to cast the horoscopes of some of his children. He was also a great lover of music. Like his father, Durgaprasad, he had a sweet voice, and at one time he took lessons in singing from an Ustad, a music expert. There was a time when, every Saturday and Sunday, he used to hold a musical soiree and entertain his guests with a pilau-feast.

As an attorney, Vishwanath made a considerable reputation, and his field of work spread over the whole of northern India. His practice took him to such distant places as Lucknow, Lahore, Delhi, Rajputana, Bilaspur, Raipur and so on. In those days journeys were not simple, for the railway line extended only up to Mughal Sarai, from where one had to travel to further distant places by other means. While in Lahore, he performed the worship of the Divine Mother Durga, in a portrait, and entertained many people with the consecrated food.

On the one hand, Vishwanath earned a great deal of money through his professional work of attorney; on the other hand, he spent money liberally. Surrounded by friends and relatives, attended by many servants, owning carriages and horses, he enjoyed living in affluent style.

Aside from his intellectual attainments, Vishwanath was endowed with many good qualities that endeared him to all. In whatever situation he might have been, he never lost the nobility of his nature. He was independent in spirit, generous in disposition, devoted to his friends, a protector of the needy. His keen understanding of his fellowmen resulted in deep compassion and extensive charity. At the sight of anyone in distress he would himself feel afflicted and would help him unstintingly. Many students who were distant relatives used to stay at his house and receive a good education at his expense, all of them becoming successful in life: Nor would any neighbour who sought his help ever go away disappointed. Little wonder, then, that the people of the locality used to call him data Vishwanath (charitable Vishwanath)! One of his sons later wrote of him: "Extending charity to the poor and the distressed was like a disease with him." Vishwanath used to say, "There is no need to worry about my sons. They will themselves make their own living; but these poor people have not that strength; that is why it is necessary to help them."

Indeed; Vishwanath spent his ample means without thought of the morrow, giving to all who asked. And here it was that he showed a lack of discretion, for he maintained some of his relatives in idleness-even in drunkenness. Criticized at one time by his eldest son, Naren, for bestowing charity upon such worthless persons, Vishwanath replied, "How can you understand the great misery of human life? When you realize it, you will sympathize with the poor creatures who try to forget their sorrows in the momentary oblivion obtained through intoxicants!"

Although Vishwanath's behaviour with people was warm-hearted and sweet, his temperament was basically grave. He would meet contrary or illogical arguments with reasoned answers. His outlook was broad and his knowledge vast. Being a liberal Hindu with a receptive mind, he desired to know the essential and universal teachings of' all religions, and thus he carefully studied the Bible and the Dewan-i-Hafiz.

This was a transitional period of India's history. The new civilization that had grown through the intermingling of Hindu and Islamic cultures was still prevalent, but European culture had also entered the stream of Indian life. The educated Indians of the time naturally came under these three influences. Vishwanath was no exception. His profession brought him into intimate contact with high ranking Muslim families in northern India, many of whom were his clients. As a result, he used to follow, in dress and deportment, eating and drinking, manners and etiquette, traditional Hindu-Islamic ways. He also had many friends among the Europeans, and in some matters of daily life would follow the British, as was the vogue among the elite. Hence his conduct was marked by Hindu-Islamic culture on the one hand and European culture on the other. Both Brahmins and Muslim fakirs used to receive alms as well as sympathy from him. The Dattas were Shaktas by faith; and Vishwanath, though so liberal in outlook, did not make any change in the traditional ways of the family, with regard to the practice of religion.

Rammohan Datta, the great-grandfather of the subject of this chronicle, was the managing clerk and associate of an English solicitor. He amassed a great fortune in the exercise of his profession, and lived happily, surrounded by a large family in a mansion in Gourmohan Mukherjee Lane.

The house is still standing, but because of, the subsequent strait¬ened circumstances of the family, that part of it which had once been used as a temple has passed into the hands of strangers. The doorway that fronts on the street is massive. The covered hall, with a room on one side and seating space on the other, leads to a second doorway, beyond which are the courtyard and the living quarters. To the right are the rooms for the male members of the family. Across the court¬yard and facing the doorway rises the women's quarter, two storeys high, the lower floor containing the kitchens, the upper the living apartments. From the latticed enclosure the purdah ladies in the olden days could look onto the courtyard when religious ceremonies on special occasions were being performed to the beating of drums and the .blowing of conchs.

To add to his misfortune, when Vishwanath was ten years old, his mother passed away. Thenceforth, the orphaned boy received at the hands of his uncle the kind of treatment that orphans generally receive in this world. Yet, all through his life Vishwanath reverenced and generously helped the uncle, though he was well aware that he had been cheated by him at every step.

He thought it was not necessary to leave behind an enormous patrimony; for if money were spent in giving his sons a taste for a high standard of living, a good education, and healthy bodies, in due course they would be compelled to make suitable arrangements for themselves-and would be able to do so. But if, on the other hand, they were to inherit much wealth, they would remain indolent and would squander all the money. We may well imagine that the experience of his own rise to affluence, together with his observation of the do-nothing members of the joint family, gave him this philosophy of life. He had observed his uncle Kaliprasad, son of an affluent father, engaged in spending the inherited wealth, while earning nothing. Whereas, he himself, a poor orphan, had become wealthy through his own manly efforts.

Vishwanath also defended the remarriage of girl widows, as championed by Ishwarchandra Vidyasagar. When a strong agitation centring on two such marriages raged in the neighbourhood, Vishwanath and his wife supported the remarriages. In fine, though Vishwanath was like other Hindus in manners and conduct, his catholic outlook, born of his liberal education and acquired culture, saved him from a narrow orthodoxy.

Durgaprasad was a gifted youth, well versed in Persian and Sanskrit, and so skilled in law that his father made him a partner in his legal profession. But he had such a strong leaning towards monastic life that after the birth of a son in 1835 he renounced the world, becoming a monk at the age of twenty-five, and was not heard of by any member of the family until the twelve years of spiritual practices prescribed by monastic rule had been completed.

When Vishwanath was three years old she took him on a pilgrimage to the holy city of Varanasi. As there was no railway in those days, the entire party set out by boat on the five hundred mile trip. What a thrilling adventure that excursion was a combination of hardships and romance! New cities; new scenes, new customs, new peoples, even new languages, were encountered as the boat with its precious freight glided on.

One morning, as Vishwanath was playing about on the deck, he fell into the Ganga. Without a second's hesitation Shyamasundari, though she could not swim, jumped over-board fully clothed; to save him. Fortunately, she was in time and held her tiny son up by the hand until they were both hauled aboard. So tight was her grip on him that he bore the marks of it for many years.

One day after she had bathed and was on her way to the temple of Vishwanath she slipped and fell with enough force to make her lose consciousness. A passing monk came to her assistance, picked her up and laid her on the temple steps When she opened her eyes, what was her amazement to find that the monk was her husband! Instantly; both were overwhelmed with a tremendous emotion. But worldly attachments were not for them. She, as well as he, had renounced. In a moment he disappeared, murmuring "Oh, Maya, Maya!" And she continued her pious round.

Vishwanath was blessed with a wife who was his peer in every respect. At the age of sixteen, he had been married to Bhuvaneshwari Devi, the only child of Nandalal Basu of the renowned Basu family of Simla, Calcutta. Bhuvaneshwari, born in 1841, was only ten years old at the time of her marriage. Being the only child of her parents, she inherited the paternal property, which afterwards accrued to her children. As she grew older, she became expert in the management of household affairs and cheerfully shouldered the responsibility of her husband's large family. She was exceptionally intelligent and found time, even in the midst of her many chores, for sewing, music and the daily study of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Graceful, devoted and full of the fire of one born to regal estate, she commanded the respect and veneration of all who came in contact with her, and her judgement was followed in all matters of importance. Above all, Bhuvaneshwari Devi was deeply religious in temperament, and used daily to perform herself the worship of Shiva. She was not given to much talking. Calm resignation to the will of God in all circumstances, power, and reserve characterized this noble Hindu woman. The poor and the helpless were the special objects of her solicitude. Like Vishwanath, Bhuvaneshwari Devi had a very sweet voice and could beautifully sing the songs on Sri Krishna as heard in religious dramas. When beggars singing religious songs came to the house to beg, she could learn their songs by listening only once. She was, indeed, noted for her unusual memory and knew by heart long passages from the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. More important, she had absorbed the essence of these timeless epics, and that essence, together with the culture to which it was the key, she passed on to her children as their great heritage.

After passing the final examination at Gourmohan Adhya's school (which afterwards came to be called The Oriental Seminary), Vishwanath at first tried his hand at business, but was not successful. He then began apprenticeship under a British attorney, Mr. Temple by name. He passed the attorneyship examination in 1866 and set up practice in partnership with Ashutosh Dhar, under the firm name of "Dhar and Datta". After some time he settled in the legal profession independently and was enrolled as an attorney-at-law in the High Court of Calcutta.

But though liberal minded by temperament, Vishwanath was averse to indiscriminately rushing into newly started movements. He was, nevertheless, progressive in his views. In 1882 he wrote in both Bengali and Hindi a book entitled Sishtachar Paddhati (Canons of Good Conduct), in two parts, in which he stated that during his travels in northern and central India he had noticed that there persisted a lot of social superstitions harmful to the people. Owing to Vishwanath's premature death the second part of the book was not published. This was the second of two known books written by Vishwanath.