Nagendra’s letter to Hara Deb Ghosal: 

“You wrote that of all the acts I have done in my life, my marriage with Kunda Nandini is the most erroneous.  I admit it.  By doing this I have lost Surja Mukhi.  I was very fortunate in obtaining Surja Mukhi for a wife.  Every one digs for jewels, but only one finds the Koh-i-nur.  Surja Mukhi is the Koh-i-nur.  In no respect can Kunda Nandini fill her place.  Why, then, did I instal Kunda Nandini in her seat?  Delusion, delusion; now I am sensible of it.  I have waked up from my dream to realize my loss.  Now where shall I find Surja Mukhi?  Why did I marry Kunda Nandini?  Did I love her?  Certainly I loved her; I lost my senses for her; my life was leaving me.  But now I know this was but the love of the eye; or else, when I have been only fifteen days married, why do I say, ‘Did I love her?’ I love her still; but where is my Surja Mukhi?

“I meant to have written much more to-day; but I cannot, it is very difficult.”

Hara Deb Ghosal’s reply: 

“I understand your state of mind.  It is not that you do not love Kunda Nandini; you do love her, but when you said it was the love of the eye only, you spoke the truth.  Towards Surja Mukhi your love is deep, but for a couple of days it has been covered by the shadow of Kunda Nandini.  Now you understand that you have lost Surja Mukhi.  So long as the sun remains unclouded, we are warmed by his beams and we love the clouds; but when the sun is gone we know that he was the eye of the world.  Not understanding your own heart, you have committed this great error.  I will not reproach you more, because you fell into it under a delusion which it was very difficult to resist.

“The mind has many different affections; men call them all love, but only that condition of heart which is ready to sacrifice its own happiness to secure that of another is true love.  The passion for beauty is not love.  The unstable lust for beauty is no more love than the desire of the hungry for rice.  True love is the offspring of reason.  When the qualities of a lovable person are perceived by the understanding, the heart being charmed by these qualities is drawn towards the possessor; it desires union with that treasury of virtues and becomes devoted to it.  The fruits of this love are expansion of the heart, self-forgetfulness, self-denial.  This is true love.  Shakespeare, Valmiki, Madame de Stael, are its poets; as Kalidas, Byron, Jayadeva are of the other species of love.  The effect on the heart produced by the sight of beauty is dulled by repetition.  But love caused by the good qualities of a person does not lose its charm, because beauty has but one appearance, because virtues display themselves anew in every fresh act.  If beauty and virtues are found together, love is quickly generated; but if once the intelligence be the cause for love, it is of no importance whether beauty exists or not.  Towards an ugly husband or an ugly wife love of this