Theosophical Society,
H P Blavatsky
THE LETTERS OF
H P BLAVATSKY
to
A. P. SINNETT
and other
miscellaneous letters transcribed, compiled,
with an
introduction
By
A. Trevor
Barker
Section 2 Page 93 – 182
Mohini
and the Writing of” Man” . . . 93
Subba
Row lies about H. P. B . . . 95
The
Crime of divulging Sacred Things . .
. 97
The
Coulomb Letters . . . 99
The
Karma of an Occultist . . . l01
H.
P. B.’s Martyrdom . . . 103
An
Hour of Revelation . . . 105
On
Books and Characters . . . 107
False
Reasoning and Bigotry of S.P.R . .
. 109
The
Love of the Master . . . 111
Solovioff
resigns from S.P.R . . . 113
The
Forger Coulomb . . . 115
Solovioff
protests to S.P.R . . . II7
“Guilty
in One—Guilty in All” . . . 119
Dr.
F. Hartmann . . . 121
Pure
“ Vestals” . . .
123
M’s
Corroboration. . .
123
In
Defence of Mohini. . .
127
A
Double Untruth about H. P. B. . . 129
Missionaries
swear to ruin the T.S. . . 131
D.
N’s Reluctance to meet H. P. B. . . 133
A
List of Calumnies . . . 135
The
Treachery of Hodgson . . . 137
The
Truth about Hodgson and S.P.R . . . 139
The
“Vase” Phenomenon. . .
141
The
Metrovitch Incident. . . 143
The
Private Part of H. P. B.’s Life . . .
145
H.
P. B. never Mme. Metrovitch. . . 147
Myers
of the S.P.R . . . 149
H.
P. B. travels with the Master . . . 151
Mentana
. . . 153
H.
P. B. never a Medium . . . 155
The
Countess sees M . . . 157
D.N.nearlymad
. . . 159
The
Opinion of a Hindu . . . 161
Col.
Olcott’s”
The
Letter of Hurreesinjhee . . . 165
D.
N. a Fanatic . . . 167
Instructions
to Sinnett re D.N . . . 169
The
Laws of Occultism . . . 171
D.N.a”Chela”
. . . 173
The
Reason for Soloviofi’s Defection. . . 175
Medical
Evidence on H. P. B . . . 177
H.
P. B. like a Boar at Bay. . . 179
LETTER
No. XL
On board.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
I
write a few words first for the sake of the Cause generally and all of us in
particular. As I thought this day was one of
revelation and retribution all over
and round: the great test as a Cause is at an end,
now we have but to wait for
results. The first one is a letter from Mr. Finch
and a confession from Mohini
that
the “Apocalypsis” that had to supersede Esoteric Buddhism and crush it out, not
only out of market but out of existence is—good for nothing. Mr. Finch says
that this is a work which “can only lower the Masters.” The four chapters
written entirely by Mohini are of course good,
but wherever the spring of
inspiration has let loose its waters, it is rough,
unsystematic, reads like a
meaningless jibbering of a schoolboy—makes ugly
patches in the work and will
certainly do no credit to the “two chelas”
supposed to have written under the
direct inspiration of a student. Well—the probation is
at an end it seems—at
least Act I. Master wants it to be issued before
Christmas and we have to do it.
Only
poor Mohini will have to rewrite the whole chapter and remodel all the
places where his collaborator gave original ideas. I
wish you would see Mohini
and have a talk with him about this work. He will
tell you HOW it was written
for he is now free to speak.
My
Master whose voice I have just heard orders me to tell you that as Mohini is
likely to stop in
complete your literary work that sleeps for want
of materials but ought not.
Seriously
you ought to have him as often as you can to explain and teach you
upon the subjects touched in your new book for now
Master will give him orders to that effect. Hitherto he could not come to you,
give or explain the least
thing—for reasons your intuition may explain to you.
Now he can and will do so.
Dispose
of me, for you I will consent now even to serve again as a postman. But
for you alone and will beg you to keep me the
secret. I will write from either
Yours truly again,
H.
P. B.
—•— 94
THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
LETTER
No. XLI
Copy of the letter to be sent through Olcott. I want you to correct
it. I am
determined to sue the Coulombs for this.
• HODGSON ESQ.
SIR,
I
have always laboured under the impression that in English law so long as one
was not proven “guilty” legally, one was held
innocent; and that a one sided
testimony—especially that of recognised enemies
could be put aside even in a
Court
of Justice. You seem to act on different principles. You are welcome to do so.
In the matter of phenomena I have come to care very little whether I will be
proclaimed in your Report to the P.R.S. a humbug and a fraud twenty times over,
or not; though I doubt the propriety and good taste of your proclaiming me all
this beforehand among your Madras acquaintances. However, even to this I am
indifferent.
But
you went further. At Mr. Garstin’s dinner the other night you spoke of me as a
“Russian Spy.” You have supported this assertion against Mr. Hume’s laugh and
denial, and that of Mr. and Mrs. C. O. so seriously and with such emphasis that
it becomes a matter of the gravest importance for me to have it proved publicly
whether I am a “Spy” or not. As I defy any mortal man to bring valid proof that
I have ever written one line or received one from the Russian Govt. for the
last 15 years during which period I became an American citizen, and that I am
as loyal to the British Govt. that now gives me hospitality as you can be—I
would have been perfectly justified in taking out summonses and have you
arrested, for the vile and dangerous calumny but for three considerations:
(1)
You are the friend of the Oakleys whom I love and respect and would avoid
dragging as unwilling witnesses;
(2)
Only a fortnight ago I had an affectionate regard for yourself whom I
believed impartial and just;
(3)
People might, and would say that it was a revenge for your
having “found me
out” and shown “a consummate fraud” as you express
it.
And
pray do not think for a moment that any one has repeated to me your
conversations and accusations at Mr.
Garstin’s. I know every word that was said at table by means that even your
P.R.S. recognise and could not deny in me. I thank you also for your additional
fling at an innocent and absent woman who has never done you any harm, in
saying that you believed her a woman capable of every and
any crime. You may believe
—•— 95 SUBBA ROW LIES
ABOUT H. P. B. —•—
me personally what you like, but you have no right
to express your slanders
publicly.
However
it may be, I expect from you a written statement over your signature of
all you heard from the Coulombs about my being a
spy that led you to form such a conclusion. I will also beg of you a
description of the paper or papers she showed you, for this time I mean to sue
her and put an end to such an infamy.
This
is a serious affair Mr. Hodgson and it is yourself who have forced me into
this course of action.
Yours,
H. P. B.
LETTER
No. XLII
June
16th.
DEAR
MRS. AND MISS ARUNDALE,
If
we had two dozen like you two and a dozen like Sinnett—Masters would be with
you and the Society long ago. I mean what I say and what more is—I know it.
Listen:
try to disconnect the L.L. as much as you can from the H.Q. You may be at
heart—one. Try to become two in the management. Karma is taking its course.
We
cannot help it. But the innocent and the true should not suffer for the
guilty and the untrue. And oh, dear, how many traitors
and Judases of all
colours and shades we have in the very heart of
the Society. Ambition is a
terrible adviser! Show this to Mr. Sinnett. Let
him be truly “keener” in his
work, not only in his interest for the Society. Let
him not hesitate to
sacrifice if needed—friends, myself included.
Olcott is becoming a wind-bag full
of vanity. But do not blame him. He has fallen
under the influence of one who
has become to him what I used to be in the days of
old. He is a terrible
sensitive notwithstanding his big beard. I pity
and love him as of old. But he
is throwing the blame upon me alone—forgetting his
exhibition of Buddha, his
flapdoodle cramming with phenomena the psychists
and so on. Master will never spurn him, for no one in this world will work as
devotedly and unselfishly as he has. But why should the L.L.—the head and
brains of the T.S. suffer and risk disintegration for the wild beatings of its
heart—the Adyar H. Quarters? Such as Subba Row—uncompromising initiated
Brahmins, will never reveal—even that which they are permitted to. They hate
too much Europeans for it. Has he not gravely given out to Mr. and Mrs. C.O.
that I was henceforth “a shell deserted and abandoned by the Masters?” When I
took him for it to task, he answered: “You have been guilty of the
—•— 96
THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
most terrible of crimes. You have given out secrets
of Occultism—the most sacred and the most hidden. Rather that you should be
sacrificed than that which was never meant for European minds. People had too
much faith in you. It was time to throw doubt into their minds. Otherwise they
should have pumped out of you all that you know.” And he is now acting on that
principle.
Please let Mr. S. know this,
Yours for ever the same,
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
LETTER
No. XLIII
Sunday, 17 May.
MY
DEAREST MOHINI,
You
may show this, or simply tell Mr. Sinnett about the following. Gaboriau had
intensely begged me to offer him as a chela to
Mahatma K. H. or my Master, and the former had accepted him on a trial. Thus he
was a chela and no lie can be implied to me in saying to Mr. Sinnett that
“Masters had chelas everywhere.” At the time, as many a time before and after
that I had determined not to mix
myself any more in the transmission of letters from
Mahatmas. Had MASTER
permitted me to carry out this resolution I would
not, perhaps, be now here an
exile and dying far away from
however I could send the Mahatma K. H.’s letters
through some other chela if I
was so cowardly. D. K. was then trying an
experiment on Mr. Sinnett to see
whether he could succeed in suggesting the idea
into his head to go through
and G.) Gaboriau is extremely sensitive and
mediumistic and I may succeed in
training him for something, though I am afraid he
is a fool.”
This
gave me the idea (1) that Mr. Sinnett might be induced by suggestion to
stop at
Gaboriau.
The
experiment failed. Mr. Sinnett is not very sensitive and went through some
other road. I have not tried to mislead him, neither
then, nor at any time. I
simply kept silent, as I have in many other cases
phenomenal and
semi-phenomenal, with regard to letters
received by him. But he, measuring
occultism upon the standard of daily life and
rules makes no difference between
a
—•— 97 THE CRIME OF
DIVULGING SACRED THINGS —•—
deliberate lie and the desire or rather sad
necessity of concealing things. When
he told me that he had received a letter from
much embarrassed, and understood that D. Khool had
failed, which he had not told me. I simply said “Have you?” and the words he
correctly stated to you, about chelas everywhere, unless I wrote them using them
in a letter of which I am not certain. The proof that I had no desire to
mislead him is found in the fact that I have never asked Gaboriau to make a
secret of it. He was a “chela” and dropped only when preparing to sail for
Adyar and prevented from going there as he had been found a perfect fool. If
Mr. Sinnett will see guilt and dishonesty in every such circumstance, then,
since I now tell him plainly that there are a hundred things I have had to
conceal from him, he is at liberty to drop me and even my existence from his
life altogether. I have never deceived him, never tried to mislead, never lied to him. I have tried my best to serve him and my
present
misfortune and the quasi-ruin of the T.S. are due
primarily to his independent
way of thinking, of thrusting occultism, and its
mysteries into the teeth of a
prejudiced unprepared public by publishing his two
books. Had phenomena and the Masters been sacredly preserved among and only for
Theosophists, all this would not have happened. But it is my own fault as much
as his. In my zeal and
devotion to the Cause I have permitted publicity
and as Subba Row truly says
“committed the crime of divulging things most sacred and holy
that had never
been known to the profane before” and now comes my
Karma. I had always seen in Mr. Sinnett the most devoted and useful member of
our Society, I have told to him things I never said even to Olcott, but I could
not divulge all even to him. Since Mahatma K. H. tells him that he has not
dropped him and has the same regard for him as ever, what more does he want?
They can, if They like, find other channels of
communication with him besides myself. Let him drop me out of his life like a
bad penny, and give me up like so many others have, now that I am dying from
the effects of the Simla causes. I have done my best, I can serve him no
longer, and I ask and pray but for one thing, to be left to die like a
mangy dog, quietly and alone in my corner. May the
Masters bless and protect you all—and may my martyrdom and sufferings known
perhaps to the Masters alone—do
some good to the Society and help it turning a new
leaf. But if even those
sufferings will prove to have been sent and
accepted in vain, then is the T.S.
doomed and it has indeed been started prematurely.
Yours to the last
H. P. B.
—•—
98 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
LETTER
No. XLIV
HOTEL DEL
VESUVIO,
June 21.
MY
DEAR MRS. SINNETT,
The
sight of your familiar hand-writing was a welcome one, indeed, and the
contents of your letter still more so.
No,
dear Mrs. Sinnett, I never thought that you could have ever believed that I
played the tricks I am now accused of; neither you or
any one of those who have Masters in their heart, not on their brains.
Nevertheless, here I am, and stand accused, without any means to prove the
contrary—of the most dirty, villainous deceptions, ever practiced by a half
starved medium.
What
can I, and what shall I do? Useless to either write,
to persuade, or try to
argue with people who are bound to believe me guilty,
to change their opinion.
Let
it be. The fuel in my heart is burnt to the last atom. Henceforth nothing is
to be found in it but cold ashes. I have so
suffered that I can suffer no more—I
simply laugh at every new accusation.
“Notwithstanding
the expertise” you say. Ah, they must be famous those experts, who found the
Coulomb’s letters genuine. The whole world may bow before their decision and
acuteness; but there is one person, at least, in this wide world, whom they can never convince that those stupid letters were
written by me, and it is—H. P. Blavatsky. Were the God of Israel and Moses,
Mahomet and all the prophets, with Jesus and the Virgin Mary to boot, come and
tell me that I have written one line of the infamous instructions to Coulomb—I
would say then to their faces—“fiddlestick—I have not.”
Now,
look here, I want you to know these facts. To this day I have never been
allowed to see one single of those letters. Why
could not Mr. Hodgson come and show me one of them at least. I suspect he has
brought some of them to
—•— 99 THE COULOMB LETTERS —•—
my fraud in phenomena were to be believed by the
whole creation, that in 1880,
I,
who was then at Bombay, bent upon proving the existence of Masters and with my
plans of imposture—if I had any—well matured already, that I should have
written such a letter to one whom I had hardly known 8 years before, who was no
friend of mine, only a casual acquaintance with whom since I left Cairo in 1871
I had never had any correspondence, and whose very name I had forgotten! In
that infamous letter I am made, nevertheless, to say that I had left my
husband, loved and lived with a man (whose wife was my dearest friend and who
died in 1870 -- a man who died too a year after his wife, and was buried by me
at
winding the whole confession by asking her not
to speak of me as she knew me,
and so on: sentences strung together, to show that
I had never known the
Masters, never was in
It
is only wasting time to argue upon all this. Those who believe the published
letters genuine, have no reason to disbelieve in
that one, and if there are such
fools in this world—or people so cunning as to play
the part of a fool—who can
believe me capable of writing such a suicidal
confession, to such a woman, a
perfect stranger to me with the exception of a
few weeks I had known her at
—•—
100 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
very nearly succeeded. At any rate they have
succeeded in fooling Hume and the
S.P.R.
Poor Myers! and still more poor Hodgson! How terribly
they will be
laughed at some day. En attendant, they are busy
crucifying me, it seems.
Psychic research indeed. “Hodgson’s” research,
rather! But pray tell me. Is it
the legal thing in
absence?; without giving him the chance of
saying one single word in his
defence?; without letting him know even of what
he is precisely accused of, or
who it is who accuses him and is brought forward as
chief evidence. For I do not know the first word of all this.
Hodgson came to Adyar; was received as a
friend; examined and cross-examined all whom he wanted
to; the “boys” -- (the
Hindus)
at Adyar gave him all the information he needed. If he now finds
discrepancies and contradictions in
their statements, it only shows that feeling
as they all did, that it was (in their sight) pure
tomfoolery to doubt the
phenomena and the Masters, they had not prepared
themselves for the scientific
cross-examination, may have forgotten
many of the circumstances; in short, that
not feeling guilty and having never either been my
confederates or my dupes,
they had not rehearsed among themselves what they
had to say, and thus, may very well have created suspicions in a prejudiced
mind. But the whole trouble with us is, that we have
never looked at Mr. Hodgson at first, as a prejudiced judge. Quite
the reverse. Well I was the first one to be punished for my confidence
in his fairness. To think that while I was laid up on my death-bed, he came
daily as a friend of the C. Oakleys, dined at the H.Q., abused and vilified,
and betrayed me daily, in their presence—and that I never knew the truth till
the
end! Ask him—has he ever confronted me with my
accusers? Has he ever tried to learn anything from me, or given me a chance of
defence and explanation? NEVER.
He
acted from the first day as though I was proven guilty beyond the shadow of a
doubt. He played traitor with me; and acted not like any honest enquirer would
have done, but as a Govt. prosecutor, an attorney
general or whatever his legal
names. And now behold the results. It is disgusting,
SICKENING to see how he
played into the hands of the padris and the padris in
his. Oh for my prophetic
soul! I did foresee all this, in
Enough. It is all dead and gone. Consummatum est.
Here
I am. Where I shall go next, I know no more than the man in the moon. The only
friend I have in life and death is poor little exiled Bowajee D. Nath in
—•— 101
THE KARMA OF
AN OCCULYIST —•—
thing too strange for me to comprehend; but Their
ways are and always have
been—incomprehensible. What good am I now for the
Cause? Besmeared with mud, spat upon, doubted and suspected by the whole
creation except a few—would I not do more good to the T.S. by dying than by
living? Their will be done not mine.
Yours in life and always,
H. P. B.
LETTER
No. XLV
July 23rd.
MY
DEAR MRS. SINNETT,
Do
not tremble at the sight of this table-cloth. Lately my sight has become very
weak and my hand so unsteady that I fancy somehow I
can write more easily on
large paper.
I
hope you will forgive me for delaying my answer for more than a week; but I
had work to finish for the papers, and had to do it
for vile cash and lucre, as
the burden of poor Mary Flynn and Babajee is now
upon me also, and I have to
work for my living, or rather for ours. And I write
so slow now! One hour pen in
hand, two hours in bed, my sight getting dim, heart
faint (physically) and
fingers stiff. Ah, well, it’s my Karma; and I have
nothing to say. No dear, I
have not—speaking of Karma—seen your husband’s new
book, I see nothing
now-a-days, but I asked Bowajee to send for it to
I
was rather astonished to hear you say my letter made such an impression on
yourself and your uncle, and I was agreeably
surprised too; still it was real
surprise; for, though I do not remember a word I
said in it, still I could not
have written to you anything more or less than what
I had written dozens of
times to others, and said in so many words—a hundred.
But what you say, only
made me sadder. Do not fight for me, my kind, dear
Mrs. Sinnett, do not defend
me; you will lose your time and only be called a
confederate, if not worse. You
would hurt yourself, perhaps the Cause, and do me no
good. The mud has entered too deeply into the hapless individual known as H. P.
B., the chemicals used for the dye of slander were, or rather are, too strong,
and death herself, I am afraid, shall never wash away in the eyes of those who
do not know me, the dirt that has been thrown at, and has stuck on the
personality of the “dear old
lady.” Ah, yes; the “old lady” is a clean thing to
look at now; an honour to her
friends, and an ornament to the Society, if
anything. Alone the “Occult World”
has the key to the situation and the truth.
—•— 102 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
But
the Occult World is at a discount now, even at the Headquarters. The poor
Colonel
has it securely locked up for the present under a triple key, at the
very bottom of his poor, weak heart, and dares not
for the time being, have it
on his tongue. A reaction,
and an exaggeration with him, as usual. He has
stuffed the S.P.R. with what could not but
appear to the majority cock and bull
stories, and had fights with me for asking him
not to take them as arbiters, not
to have anything to do with the Dons; and now when
their arbitration had such a
glorious end for us, he got frightened out of his
wits and has become a Brahmin,
a regular Subba Row for secrecy. He forgets the
“they who shall deny me before men, I shall deny them before my (Tibetan)
father.” He does not deny the
Masters,
of course, but he is mortally afraid to pronounce even their names,
except in strict privacy. Ah! If he had but half that
reticence and discretion,
when he thrust the Lord Buddha on His wheels, before
the intuitional gathering
at the Psychic Research Meeting! But it is too
late. Consummatum est.
Well,
really and indeed I would not have cared one brass pin for my personal
reputation, only that every bullet of mud shot at,
and passing through me,
splatters the unfortunate T. S. with odoriferous
ingredients.
You
“cannot imagine how anyone knowing you (me) can believe you (me)
guilty”—guilty of the asinine actions charged upon me?
Nor could I—six months ago, but now I can. When was truth accepted and
remembered, or lies and slander fail to be accepted
and treasured in people’s brains? The world is divided into the millions who do
not know me, who have never seen or heard me, but who have heard of me; and
what they did hear, even in the palmy days of Theosophy, when it was nearly
becoming a fashion, could never prepossess them in my favour; and among those
millions—a few hundreds—say thousands—who have seen me personally,
i.e. the very rough personality in her “black bag,”
and of unrefined talk. Those
who do know me and have had a glimpse of the inner
creature—are a few dozens.
But
if you divide these into those who do believe, but are afraid of losing
caste; those who know but whose interest it is to
appear uncertain; and again
those whom our phenomena kicked out of saddle—like
the spiritualists—and broke the head of their own hobbies—what remains? A dozen
or two of individuals who like yourself have the COURAGE of being honest with
themselves and the still greater one of showing they do have it, under the nose
and in the face of the idiots and the selfish of the age! Of course, you all
who believe in, and respect the Masters cannot without losing every belief in Them, think me guilty.
Those
who feel no discrepancy
—•—
103 H. P. B.’S MARTYRDOM —•—
in the idea (Hume was one of such) of filthy lying
and fraud even for the good
of the cause—being associated with work done for
the Masters—are congenital
Jesuits. One capable of believing that such pure
and holy hands can touch and
handle with no sense of squeamishness such a filthy
instrument, as I am now
represented to be—are natural born fools, or capable
themselves of working on
the principle that “the end justifies the means.”
Therefore, while thanking you,
and appreciating fully the great kindness of your
heart that dictated you such
words as—“were I convinced tomorrow that you had
written those wretched letters I should love you still”—I answer—I hope you
would not, and this for your own sake. Had I written even one of those idiotic
and at bottom infamous
interpolations now made to appear in
the said letters; had I been guilty once
only—of a deliberate, purposely concocted fraud,
especially when those deceived were my best, my truest friends—no “love” for
such one as I! At best—pity or eternal contempt. Pity,
if proved that I was an irresponsible lunatic, a hallucinated medium made to
trick by my “guides” whom I was representing as Mahatmas; contempt—if a
conscious fraud—but then where would be the Masters? Ah! dear
child of my old heart, I was, I really was guilty, of but one crime from the
natural standpoint of human conception. Many are the things I have been obliged
to conceal by holding my tongue; many—though fewer—those I have allowed to go
uncorrected before the world’s criterion and the belief of my friends; but
these were no phenomena of ours, but only the mistakes and hallucinations, the
exaggerations of other people, quite sincere too. And if I did so it was only
because I was ever afraid of injuring the Cause; and that had I “revised and
corrected” those first editions, I might have been called to task to explain
the remainder, which I could never do, without betraying things I was not
permitted to divulge. Never, never, shall you, or even could you, realise with
all your earnestness and sympathy for me, and your natural keen perceptions—all
I had to suffer for the last ten years! What could people know of me? The
exterior carcase fattened on the life-blood of the interior wretched prisoner,
and people perceived only the first, never suspecting the existence of the
latter. And that “first” was charged with ambition, love of cheap fame,
mercenary objects; with fraud and deceit, cunning and unscrupulousness, lying
and cheating—by the average outsider; with insincerity and untruthfulness,
suspected even of passing off deliberately bogus phenomena—by my best, my
dearest friends. Bound up, as I was, from head to foot by my pledge, an oath
involving my future life—aye, even lives—what could I do since I was forbidden
to explain all, but insist on the truth of the little
—•—
104 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
I
was permitted to give out, and deny simply the unfair charges? But as I hope
redress in my future existence, when this
terrible period of Karma wans away; as
I
venerate the Masters, and worship MY MASTER—the sole creator of my inner Self
which but for His calling it out, awakening it from its slumber, would have
never come to conscious being—not in this life, at all events; as I value all
this—I swear I never was guilty of any dishonest
action. I may have appeared
often heartless for allowing occasionally people to
sacrifice themselves as I
did, while knowing they had none of my chances, in
this life of theirs, to
progress very far; but then, it was for their
good, not mine. Whether they
progressed or not, reward for the good intention
was stored for them by their
Karma;
while, in my case, the more I progressed in occult matters, the less I
had any chances of happiness in this life, for it
became more and more my duty
to sacrifice myself for the good of others and to
my own personal detriment.
Such
is the law. Ah, if they only knew, some of my “friends,” who, if they do
not go publicly against me, still entertain very
serious doubts as to my
honesty—if they only knew now what they are sure
to learn some day—when I am dead and gone, with my memory soiled from head to
foot—the real good I have done to them! I do not pretend to say, that I have
done so for their own sake; for generally I was not even thinking of their
personal selves. But since, they have happened to come within the circle where
the poor old pelican’s blood was being shed, and had their share of its
fruition, why should some of them prove so cruel, if not ungrateful!
My
dearest Mrs. Sinnett—my heart is broken—physically and morally. For the first I
do not care; Master shall take care it shall not burst, so long as I am
needed; in the second case there is no help. Master
can, and shall not interfere
with Karma. My heart is broken not for what my true,
open enemies have
done—them, I despise; but for the selfishness, the
weak-heartedness in my
defence, the readiness shown to accept and even
to force me to all manner of
sacrifices—when Masters are my witnesses, I was
ready to shed the last drop of
life in me, give up every hope, for the last shred
of—I shall not say
happiness—but rest and comfort in this life of
torture, for the cause I serve
and [as] for every true Theosophist. The
treachery—that atmosphere of soft and
sympathetic words, expressive of the utmost
selfishness at the bottom of them,
whether due to weakness, or ambition—was
something terrible. I shall not mention names. With some, with most of them, I
shall remain on good terms to my dying day. Nor shall I allow them to suspect I
read through them from the first. But I shall never—nor could I if I would,
forget that for-
—•—
105 AN HOUR
OF REVELATION —•—
ever-memorable night during the crisis
of my illness, when Master, before
exacting from me a certain promise, revealed to
me things that He thought I
ought to know, before pledging my word to Him for the
work He asked me (not
ordered as He had a right to) to do. On that night when Mrs. Oakley and Hartman and everyone except
Bowajee (D. N.), expected me every minute to breathe my last—I learned all.
I was shown who was right and who wrong (unwittingly) and who was entirely
treacherous; and a general sketch of what I had to expect outlined before me.
Ah, I tell you, I have learnt things on that night—things that stamped
themselves for-ever on my Soul; black treachery, assumed friendship for selfish
ends, belief in my guilt, and yet a determination to lie in my defence, since I
was a convenient step to rise upon, and what not! Human nature I saw in all its
hideousness in that short hour, when I felt one of Master’s hands upon my
heart, forbidding it cease beating, and saw the other calling out sweet future
before me. With all that, when He had shown me all, all, and asked
“Are
you willing?”—I said “Yes,” and thus signed my wretched doom, for the sake of
the few who were entitled to His thanks. Shall you believe me if I say, that
among those few your two names stood prominent? You may disbelieve, or perhaps
doubt—yet it was so. Death was so welcome at that hour, rest so needed, so
desired; life like the one that stared me in the face, and that is realised
now—so miserable; yet how could I say No to Him who
wanted me to live! But all this is perhaps incomprehensible to you, though I do
hope it is not quite so. I
.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . him, and
I have already . . . .
.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
not want to live in any of the large centres of
and dry room, however cold outside, since I never
leave my rooms, and here
healthy people catch cold and rheumatics unless
they have palaces. I like
Masters
lived in, and it is He who advised my Master to send me there.
Fortunately
I have received from
benefactors “sent me Rs. 500 and 400 from
I
intend to take a nice set of rooms and happy will be the day I see you at my
samovar, if you intend really to come down (or
up?) to see me. From Elberfeld it is not very far, less than a day’s journey, I
believe. Then I shall live, at my
Master’s
bidding and pleasure, or rather
I The letter has been
mutilated at this point, and half of two lines are
missing.—ED.
—•—
106 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
vegetate during day and live only during night,
and write for the rest of my
(un)natural life. The Coulombs I hear,
have left
where I suppose they, or rather she, will pay you a
visit. They will leave no
stones unturned, so long as there remains one person
in the world to believe in
me, and the missionaries have promised them Rs.
5000 yearly, if they go on
ceaselessly with their work of H. P. B. destruction.
They are welcome to do and
say what they like.
My
sincere love and regard to all. How is dear little Dennie?
Yours
ever the same, I
LETTER
No. XLVI
6, LUDWIG STRASSE,
19th Aug.,
1885.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
While
at Luzern, a week ago, I was strongly impressed to write to you. Why
didn’t I? I do not know. Perhaps, because for months I
had not heard from you,
and somehow I could not fit myself in again to
letter-writing, which is now a
torture to me, for reasons there’s little need
of explaining.
But
hardly arrived to this little quiet town which I have chosen for my new
abode I received your letter of Aug. 1st. It touched
me more than I can tell. My
dear Mr. Sinnett, if there ever was a man in this
wide world that I have
misunderstood—because perhaps, I have
never paid a strict attention but to one
side of him—it is you. I never doubted your great
devotion to the Mahatma, your real interest for the cause, though with you the
latter always rested
independent of, more than within, and blended with
the T.S. But one could remain for ever faithful to both the movement and its
chief motors, and yet shrink from any further contact, with one so dishonoured,
so seemingly vile as I now stand.
But
your personal kindness shows to me that, as usual, I was an ass on this
plane of existence, and that what the Mahatmas alone
do is well done, and what
they know and say is alone just and truthful, as may
be always found out in the
long run by him who knows to wait. However, I shall
not waste time and try your patience by personal disquisitions. I mean to
answer your letter, one question after the other.
You
are right—I have not seen Karma to that day that you sent it to me, for
which—many thanks. I have read it without stopping
from the first to the last
line. I was afraid it would I
The
portion with the signature has been cut out.—ED.
—•—
107 ON BOOKS
AND CHARACTERS —•—
resemble “Affinities”—in which bits of real
palpitating flesh, torn out of as
living and real individuals are stuck into mannequins
born out of the author’s
fancy and made to pass off as heroes “copied from
nature.” I was pleased to find the contrary in your “Karma.” In “Affinities”
the heroes are either caricatures, or ideals very grossly exaggerated in beauty
and importance, as for inst. Colquhoun -- (Oscar Wild, I fancy). In Karma the
original of Mrs. Lakesby is neither flattered nor her defects exaggerated. You
have taken but the real existing features as though from life, passing all the
very prominent defects in
charitable silence. But, is it only “charitable
silence,” my dear Mr. Sinnett? I
am afraid you are still somewhat under the spell.
Well, it is better that one
should stick to his friends even with all their
defects, than alter opinion of
them and abandon or turn one’s back upon them, at
the first change of scenery.
It
is not for me to take you to task for constancy, when it is to that feature
in you, perhaps, that I owe now the kind letter
received, when I know how
impossible it is for you to think me wholly
blameless in the matter of fraud—let
alone my own natural defects and perhaps—vices.
Yes;
I know how hard it was for you to talk of me in
otherwise” and I have come to see that He was
right, and I—wrong as usual. I
might speak to you of “Karma” till tomorrow—I like it
so much; but I have other
things more important for us to speak of; yet I may
add one word more.
D.
N. has asked Mohini for Karma; but Mohini is now a great character—and has not
perhaps time to attend to all he is asked to do. Anyhow I have it now, and thank you for it once more. You will do more good
by fancy novels in which truth and such truths are found in apparent fiction,
than by works as the Occult World in which every word is now regarded by all
except theosophists—as hallucination and the cock and bull stories of
confederates.
I
am “the subject of constant thought and conversation” in your circles. I wish
I
were not; for trust and friendship, or distrust and resentment—neither friends
nor foes will ever realise the whole truth. So
what’s the use? Put your hand on
your heart, my dear Mr. Sinnett and tell me: has any
of my enemies uttered since
May
last (1884), one thing, or the smallest charge that had not been broached
previously by them whether in private talk or newspaper
gossip and hints? The
only difference between Coulomb—Patterson—Hodgson
charges now, and those previous to the Adyar scandal—is this: then the
newspapers only hinted, now—they affirm. Then they were restricted (however
feebly)
—•—
108 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
by fear of law and a sense of decency; now they
have become fearless, and have
lost all and every manner of decency. Look at Prof.
Sidgwick. He is evidently a
gentleman, and an honourable man by nature, fair
minded as most Englishmen are.
And
now tell me, can any outsider (the opinion of the “Fathers of S.P.R.” is of
course valueless) presume to say that his printed
opinion of me is either fair,
legal, or honest? If instead of bogus phenomena, I
were charged with picking the
pockets
of my so called victims, or of “bogus” something else, the charging with which
when unproved is punishable by law if not wholly demonstrated, would Prof.
Sidgwick, you think, have a leg to stand upon in a court of justice? Assuredly not. There is not one phenomenon that can be
proven wholly false from beginning to end—legally, were phenomena something
accepted in law. Then what right has he to speak publicly (and have his opinion
printed) of my deceptions, fraud, dishonesty and tricks? Shall you maintain
that it is fair of him, or honest or even legal, to take advantage of his
exceptional position, and the nature of the question
involved, to slander me, or, if you prefer—I shall say to charge me thus and
dishonour my name—on such wretched evidence as they have through Hodgson? The
only right that the S.P.R. has—is to proclaim that all their investigations
notwithstanding, they got no evidence to show that the phenomena were all
genuine; that there is a strong presumption from the scientific and logical, if
not legal stand-point, to suspect that there may have been exaggerations in the
reports, suspicious circumstances attached to their
production, etc.—never deliberate fraud, deception
and so on. Their July Report
sets them all—from Myers and Sidgwick down to their
last admirer—as donkeys.
They
show themselves absurdly, most ridiculously unfair in it. Can you blame
after this, Solovioff and other Russian theosophists
for saying that the chief
motor of their wrath against me is—that I am a
Russian? I know it is not so; but
they, the Russians like Solovioff and the
horns of the dilemma they have no choice. Every fair
minded man with brains in
his head, must say after reading the Report and
comparing what is said on page
452
and page 453 -- that those who said and edited it, are either moved by a
blind, wild, personal hatred and prejudice; or that
they are—DONKEYS.
Please
read—and if you have, owing to some unaccountable reason, failed to
remark this before—judge now. On page 452 Prof.
Sidgwick read the following
statement (See para. 5th) about their disclaiming
“any intention of imputing
wilful deception to Col. Olcott.” Following this—there
comes the question of
—•—
109 FALSE REASONING AND
BIGOTRY OF S. P. R. —•—
envelopes in which Mahatmas writing was
found—which might have been previously opened by me or others. Letters from the
Masters received at Adyar when I was in
How
is this, as a sample of the value of the scientific researches of the great
S.P.R.
which sits in Areopagus over the humble theosophists? Ah—gentlemen of the
theosophical jury, you of London, and especially of Adyar, how easily you could
have knocked up into an omelette your Cambridge dons had you felt yourselves as
full of contempt for the learned society of “scientific” investigators as I did
from the beginning, instead of looking up to it as to a 19th cent. oracle in psychic matters! Mohini must have lost his head
not to have flattened the Psychists on the spot. These two pages alone contain
the full condemnation of the S.P.R.; and they are sufficient in themselves to
show them before any human jury as prejudiced, unfair judges, unfit for the
position they have arrogated to themselves. They are worthy of their
“caligraphic expert” Mr. Netherclift or whatever his scientific name. “Barkis
is willing,” dear scientific friends, to assume that Isis Unveiled, and all the
best articles in the Theosophist, as every letter from both Mahatmas—whether in
English, French, Telugu, Sanskrit or Hindi, were written by Madame H. P.
Blavatsky. She is willing to have it believed that for more than 20 years
“without being so much even as a medium,” she has
—•—
110 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
bamboozled the most intellectual men of the
century, in
and especially in
the 1000 bogus manifestations on record before the
world—is such a living,
incarnated phenomenon, as to do all that and much
more? Why, it needed only a
Mad.
Coulomb, and a dozen of unwashed bad-smelling Scotch and American padris,
backed by such clever experts and investigators as the Cambridge Dons, to upset
the whole machinery. Let Mr. Hodgson find me out one single case revealed to
him by Mad. Coulomb, that had not been already planned and hinted at by Indian
and American newspapers before, and then I shall bow my diminished head. The
poor wretches have not even had the difficulty of inventing something new. The
“brooch” incident at Simla has been discussed ad nauseam four years ago, by the
What
he did there, would give Mr. Hodgson the ground work for another scientific
Report if he could only investigate the fact.
No;
it is not “the Brothers’ policy of covering up such evidence . . . of their
existence”—but that of the MAHA CHOHAN, and it is
Mahatma K. H.’s Karma. If you have never given a thought to what may be His
suffering during the human intervals
—•—
111 THE LOVE
OF THE MASTER —•—
of His Mahatmaship—then you have something yet to
learn. “You were warned”—says His Chohan—and He answers—“I was.” Still He says
He is glad He is yet no Mejnoor, no dried up plant, and that had He to suffer
over and over again—He would still do the same for He knows that real good for
humanity has come out from all this suffering, and that such books as “Esoteric
Buddhism” and “Karma” would not have been written for years to come had He not
communicated with you, and had not orders been given to me to do what I have
done—stupidly sometimes as I may have carried them out. These are Mahatma K.
H.’s own words. No; He is not “right away in Nirvana”—except during the hours
of His Mahatmaship. His “devachan”—is far off yet, and people may hear of Him
when they expect it the least. I never see or hear of Him, lately—D. N. does.
But I know what I say, though I have no orders to tell it to anyone. Remember
only that He suffers more, perhaps, than any one of us. And you do not know how
right you are in saying that “Well as He loved, He will love me truly—Yea even
better than I love Him”—for even you can never love Him as well as He loves
you—that particle of Humanity which did its best to help on and benefit
Humanity—“the great orphan”
He
speaks of in one of His letters.
What
you say of the respective situations in which are placed the European and
Indian
Theo. Societies—is quite true. Olcott with all his grand qualities has
become—especially of late and under new
influences of which I shall not talk—a
perfect bag of conceit and silliness. This he
does unconsciously. He will be led
by no one except the Master he says—and Master
refuses to lead him except on
very important business having nought to do with his
personal or the
Society’s—Karma. Result—complete flapdoodle.—Il pose pour le martyr! The—poor man.
So blinded is he, that honestly believing he is thereby saving the Society, the
CAUSE—as he expresses it—he adopted of late the policy of propitiating the
Moloch of public opinion by cautiously admitting that I might have supplemented
at times bogus for real phenomena!; that I am suffering at times from mental
aberration—and so on. He is stupid enough in his real and immaculate, though
ever unwise honesty, to forget that by admitting even so much, and that which
he knows for a certainty to be false—he thereby confesses himself the first and
chief confederate in the alleged bogus phenomena. But it is too long to write
about. When I see you—and I hope to goodness I will—I shall tell you many a
strange thing. Only remember, that so early as at
Elberfeld I told you already what Master had said to me. He is unfit to lead on
the Society except nominally because the Society has outgrown him. Let him
remain a nominal President—but let us
—•—
112 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
active Presidents—one in
working with that object. You alone ought to
become the President in chief of
all the European Societies, and for life—who ever
else may be the year President
of the L.L., or the
Master—I
know it. For myself—I am resolved to remain sub rosa. I can do far more by
remaining in the shadow than by becoming prominent once more in the movement.
Let
me hide in unknown places and write, write, write, and teach whoever wants
to learn. Since Master forced me to live, let me
live and die now in relative
peace. It is evident He wants me still to work for
the T.S. since He does not
allow
me to make a contract with Katkoff—one that would put yearly 40,000 francs at
least in my pocket—to write exclusively for his journal and paper. He would not
permit me to sign such a contract last year in
Ah,
the cruel, wicked injustice that has been done to me all round! Fancy, the
horrid
calumny of the “C. C. M.” and Patterson whose statement that I sought to
defraud Mr. Jacob Sasoon of Rs. 10,000, in that Poona business, has been
allowed to go uncontradicted even by Khandalowalla and Ezekiel, who know as
well as they are sure of their existences that this special charge, at any
rate, is the most abominable, lying calumny; whatever the value of the Rama
Singa’s phenomenon!
Why
should my best friends allow me to be so vilified! Why should the Report of the
Defence Committee have been suppressed and declared by Olcott in print to have
been stopped? Is it not, as Patterson says—a direct confession that the
Committee
had committed a mistake, found me after all guilty—and thus stopped the
defence? Who of the public knows, that after having worked for, and given my
life to the progress of the Society for over ten years, I have been forced to
leave India—a beggar, literally a beggar depending on the bounty of the
Theosophist -- (my own journal, founded and created with my own money!!) for my
daily support. I—made out to be a mercenary impostor, a fraud for the sake of
money when I never asked or received one pie for my phenomena, when thousands
of my own money earned by my Russian articles have been given away, when for
five years I have abandoned the price of Isis and the income of the Theosophist
to support the Society. And now—I am generously allowed Rs. 200 monthly from
that income to save me from starvation in
—•— 113 SOLOVIOFF
RESIGNS FROM S. P. R. —•—
and
without any means landed at Naples, sent me each of them two months of their
pay (in all Rs. 500) -- I could not have come here. None of the Hindu Societies
are allowed to know my true position. Truth and facts are concealed from them,
lest they should revolt, and show angry feelings for the Colonel. When they
begin to clamour too loudly for me, they are told that it is I who refuse to
come back!! It is only now that they begin suspecting the truth. Luckily
Katkoff sent me 4,000 fs. he owed me, and now I am all
right for a time, and I shall now send back the 500 rupees, for they are all
four, poor men. Pardon me for saying all this and showing myself so selfish.
But it is a direct answer to the vile calumny and it is but right that the
theosophists in
that he sent in his resignation to the S.P.R. He
wrote a long letter to Myers
and now the latter answers him, supplicates and
begs of him not to be so severe
on them, not to resign, and asks him whether he
still maintains that what he saw
at Elberfeld was not a hallucination or a fraud;
and finally begs of him to come
and meet him at
confess himself either a lunatic or a
confederate—he considers it as a slap on
the face, a direct insult to him and answers Myers,
demanding that his letter
should be published and resignation made known. He
intends stopping here at
too in
Yes;
it is Olcott’s cramming of the Cambridge Psychists with his experiences;
and his wretched, cheeky appearance with his Buddha
on the wheels, at that
meeting of the S.P.R.—that brought on us all the
misery. Yet he denies it. He
actually maintains in
that it is my visit to
No;
you are mistaken, if you think, that it is the Masters who want people to
believe me guilty. On the contrary; though
unable to help me directly for they
dare not meddle with my Karma, they are too just not
to desire to see me
defended by all those who feel honestly that I am
innocent. Those who do, only
help their Karma, those who do not—put a stain on
it. Believe me every such
defence is recorded by Them. What They want is, only to show that phenomena
without the comprehension of the philosophical
and logical conditions that bring
them about—are fatal and will ever turn disastrous.
But why should I tell you
all this, when your “Baron Friedrich” speaks, as
though
—•— 114 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
he was repeating words pronounced by the Masters!
You know—or ought to know what they really want, and even to comprehend the
real nature of the Laws. It is but right and just that I, or any other single
individual devoted to the cause, should gladly and willingly sacrifice himself,
and allow himself in every case to be sacrificed for
the good of the many. But this is in a general way, and has or rather can have
no reference to details. It is right that I should be ready
to become the goat of atonement for the good and
progress of the Theos. Society by withdrawing from the movement, in order not
to irritate too much the wild Bull. But what good can I do the cause by
permitting myself to be considered a mercenary, vile wretch, by allowing
Patterson and Hodgson slanders to go uncontradicted? I do it positive harm. And
that is what Olcott and many others do, by half-measures, by pretending to
confess that I may be guilty and that it is quite possible, by even withholding
from the Theosophist the addresses of sympathy and condemnation of my
slanderers sent to me by the
—•—
115 THE FORGER
COULOMB —•—
not “fished in troubled waters” or “collected in
secret” his evidence—for he has
done both. True, his “unfavourable
view of the evidence was communicated to the leading theosophists”—i.e. Mr. and
Mrs. Cooper Oakley, and a few others never to me. It is I myself who
found it out at a time when no one dreamt yet at Adyar that he had turned
against us. And had I not found it out (told by Master who showed me Hodgson at
Of
course without seeing the letters I cannot help you to any clue to the mystery.
I know how it was done; but since I cannot prove it any more than I can
show how my handwriting appeared on my own visiting
card at Eglinton’s seance at “Uncle Sam’s”—what’s the use in saying it? Was not
that my identical handwriting on that card? And yet you know it was not done by
me. Alexis Coulomb’s handwriting is naturally like mine. We know all how
Damodar was once deceived by an order written in my handwriting to go upstairs
and seek for me in my bedroom in
Unfortunately
that bit of a note was not preserved. It was not intended for any
phenomenon but simply a “good farce” (une bonne
farce) by Coulomb, who indulged in many. And if he could imitate so well my
handwriting in a note why could he not copy (he had four years to study and do
it) every scrap and note of mine to Mme. Coulomb on identical paper and make
any interpolations he liked? The fact that she was preparing for Treachery ever
since 1880 is a proof of it. That other fact that when Subba Row wrote to me to
compromising letters for if so it
was better to buy them of her at any price,
than
to allow her to ruin my character and perhaps the T.S.—I answered him (May 1884)
that I had never written her anything that I should fear to see published; that
she lied, and could do what she pleased. All this is a good proof, I believe,
to show that I had never written any such thing. Otherwise, and indeed
if I could have forgotten that hardly three months
before I had given her
written instructions to deceive Mr. Jacob
Sassoon at
—•— 116 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
lunatic! Subba Row has my letter written to him
in answer to his from
This
is “the authoritative statement” (for me, of course not for the Psychists)
that I have. I have seen Coulomb copying one of such
scraps of mine, at his
table, in a scene shown to me by Master in the Astral
light. Shall my statement
be believed, you think? Then what’s the use! The
Coulombs and Patterson were
afraid to let me see these letters and handle them,
for they believe and know
what Masters can do: they fear the powers of those,
whom they pretend to have
been invented by me. Otherwise why should they have
extracted from Hodgson the promise not to allow the few letters he got from them,
into my hands? Ask him, ascertain why he has never
shown them to me? Why he never told me even that he got them? This is a serious
fact, more serious than it appears on the surface.I authorise you to do with
the MS. (a kind of my phenomenal biography) entitled “Madame
Blavatsky”—whatever you like. Mrs. Holloway made a row with me
(ask Miss Arundale and Mohini) for asking you to look it over, correct and
publish it. She chaffed me and called me a fool, saying that I voluntarily gave
you up that which would bring me fame and money; that once you got it into your
hands you would never give it me back, but use it and publish it in some new
book of yours. Ah, she did say of you complimentary things on that day—a few
days before her departure. I was disgusted but held my tongue. Please keep it
and accept it as a present if you can ever use it. I shall never have anything
to do with it—so I give it to you, for ever and to the end, to either use it or
give it to Mrs. Sinnett to make paper curls of it.I do not think Olcott shall
ever visit America—no fear of that, for he is too afraid of his horrid wife and
her new husband. Your idea is very good. I hope I shall see you before you
start.
Well
I believe I have written a volume. Please excuse, but you know I cannot
condense
my thoughts as you do.
1,000 salaams and good wishes to Mrs. Sinnett
and all the friends.
Do
not forget the old –
“Exile of
Wurzburg,”
Yours ever
and for ever,
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
LETTER
No. XLVII
6, LUDWIG STRASSE,
WURZBURG,
Friday.
YOUR
letter from Elberfeld requires more than a postal card and a short
telegram.
Have you received both, or one, or none?
—•—
117 SOLOVIOFF PROTESTS
TO S. P. R. —•—
For,
if not dugpas, then there seems to be fatality all round me, which
interferes
with letters, knocks every one off his feet and plays generally the
deuce
with those who have not yet quite turned away from me.
Last
week I had written to you a letter of 24 or more pages. There was important
information
in it. On Thursday, Aug. 20 I received a letter from Mrs. Sinnett,
written—Grand
Hotel, Brussels, in which she tells me—it is before me—that if I
answer
her immediately the letter will find her at Antwerp where you will stop
at
Grand Hotel until Saturday. As my letter was ready I sent it off without
delay
addressed A. P. Sinnett, Esq., Grand Hotel, Antwerp (Belgique). You ought to
have received it on the following day. Where is it? No wonder you should feel surprised
at my not answering you “a line or two,” when all my letters get lost!
Why,
Solovioff went with Darbagiri N. to the post office when it was taken.
I
do not see why my aunt should delay your coming. She sleeps during the day and talks
with me all night. You shall play at the Sun and Moon with her as
everybody
else and she may be useful to you in some things. The same with
Solovioff.
He wrote a long letter to Myers and sent in his resignation to the
S.P.R.
as every man who is given by them the choice of confessing himself either a
hallucinated fool or a confederate should do. There are two more Russians who will
resign, I hear, from that scientific body. Now Myers writes a long letter to
Solovioff begging of him not to resign and asking him whether he still maintains
that he saw Master at Elberfeld, Miss Glinka ditto and others idem.
Solovioff
answers he does and insists upon his resignation and having his letter
of
protest published. I tell you what Mr. Sinnett. You may say what you please
but
your Cambridge Dons do not act as honest people should. When I see you I
shall
explain much more and Solovioff has to tell you a good deal. I cannot go
over
the 24 pages of my letter to you again. I hope you shall get it and then
you
will know. Thanks for Karma; opinion of it expressed in the same letter.
Rugmer’s
Hotel is near by, and very cheap and food good. The Solovioffs are
there.
They will remain with me for a month longer. We see each other very
little
though for we have both of us work to do.
Much love to Mrs. Sinnett.
Yours
truly and forever,
H. P.
B.
—•—
118 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
LETTER
No. XLVIII
6, LUDWIG STRASSE,
WURZBURG,
Sept. 2, 1885.
MY
DEAREST MRS. SINNETT,
MR.
SINNET, & CO.
No,
my dear pessimist, I can assure you, that your visit shall not be “spoiled”
in
any way, for I shall neither be “cross or busy,” nor shall I be ill, at any
rate,
no worse than I generally am; not even “surrounded” by my court; for, to
be
so surrounded, requires a court, and when a friend or two turns up, and that
I
am forced to acknowledge that I have some friends left in this world, it is
all I can expect from Fate and Karma which have
found such amateur hangmen and executioners to volunteer doing their dirty work
as—Myers, Hodgson & Co. Rest assured then that nothing and no one is likely
to spoil the “pleasure” you have been, as you kindly say, looking forward to,
if any one in this world of maya can yet find any in the company of such an old
ruin as I now am.
On
the 29th, if it was Saturday last I was sitting with Solovioff over my
samovar, and he was asking me when I had heard
last from Mrs. Gebhard or any one of the family. I told him I had heard from
Mr. Gebhard in November last at
—•— 119
“GUILTY IN ONE—GUILTY
IN ALL” —•—
very
friendly. But I cannot trust him. Before going away he said about Mrs. C.
Oakley
“pire qui pendre” to all of us—and now he writes to her a letter eight
pages
long. No man is more quick at catching occult ideas, no one less apt to
comprehend
them spiritually. What he says of Olcott and the Society is true
enough,
but why should he be so spiteful in the opinions expressed! Speaking of
O.—I
can only say—poor, poor Olcott; I can never cease loving him, one who was my
devoted friend and defender for ten years, my chum, as he expresses it. But I can
only pity one so dull, as not to comprehend instinctively, that if we were theosophical
twins during our days of glory, in such a time of universal
persecution,
of false charges and public accusations the “twins” have to fall
together
as they have risen together, and that if I am called—at all events half
confessed
a fraud by him, then must he be one also. Had I not known him still
watched
by the Masters, and protected to a certain extent by MASTER, I would
have
sworn he was possessed by Dugpas. Fancy him writing to Miss Arundale, Baron Hoffmann,
and many others I could name that I was mad (in the real sense of the word) and
had been mad many years; that I may have been guilty of bogus phenomena at
times, in my moments of mental aberration and whatnot! -- Guilty in one, guilty
in all. Ah poor, poor fool, who digs an abyss under the Theosophical Society
with his own hands!
Well,
au revoir. Give my love to all, who can accept it and to you two foremost.
Bowajee
is supremely happy, Mohini and he wept for joy. There is peace and
quiet,
and the Kingdom of Heaven in my long suffering heart since yesterday,
seeing
round me my poor old aunt, Miss A., Mohini. Best wishes and love.
Ever yours,
H. P. B.
LETTER
No. XLIX
Wednesday.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
De
mieux en mieux! Enclose you Olcott’s letter with a copy of L. Fox’s I—whom may
his “Karma” bury under its ruins! It is Hume’s inventions. “Sell” my
Theosophist?
Why not sell myself and Society at once, if we have become such a saleable
article. I immediately telegraphed—“I absolutely refuse to sell
Theosophist—to
Adyar and spent forthwith the famous £3 16s., or nearly so. And now I mean to
fight tooth and nail
I See pages 324-5.—ED.
—•—
120 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
and
I adjure you by Master’s name to help me with good articles from time to
time
for my poor journal—the child of my heart. Hume being now in London is sure to
intrigue and plot with some of the London Lodge—with Mrs. Kingsford with whom he’s
in passionate correspondence being in love with, without having seen her; with
our friend Mrs. C. O. who is under obligation to him for her passage money here;
with this one, that one, and the other. I do think it would be more diplomatic
in you and better policy to see him, if he can. But then he said he “despised
you for your credulity”—at Adyar. Well the cloud is very black on that part of
the horizon where he is—for he is unscrupulous, bargains very cheap for a lie
when it suits his purposes and he is a good deal of a Jesuit—when needed. Our
Karma—save us!
Got
Mrs. Sinnett’s letter from the 12th saying I had not written to her. Why, I
sent
an enormous letter to her and you, a joint one, after receiving stamps and
your
books, and one for you. Now I am very anxious to know whether Mrs. Sinnett received
that letter of mine in a large blue envelope about secret matters.
Please
let me know by return of post. I would not have it lost for the world.
Poor
Padshah! All his efforts, struggles, his sacred vows—all, all gone because
his
fifth principle is so developed and drags him to Cambridge, while his sixth
is
dormant, half blind and is unable to FEEL the Master. Poor Boy! why can’t
people separate wretched me from the Masters, why not
despise, spurn me, spew me out from their mouth but remain true and loyal to
TRUTH incarnate. I do feel sad for those who are good and yet fall off.
I
have sent you francs 20 -- 10 Tedesco gave me—the other 10 for Five Years of Theosophy
which please ask Mohini to buy and send me, as Hartman took away his bound (five
vol.) of Theosophist and I am verily theosophiless now.
Well,
to end, I had a pretty attack of palpitation of the heart which nearly
carried
me away the other night—the karma of talking for a week with six or
seven
people visiting me from morn to night. Hubbe Schleiden brought the doctor at
knockings
of the heart which seemed to have gone mad were stopped. But I am
happy to say there is an enormous enlargement (or
expansion?) of the heart which must, and shall carry me away.
In
this sweet hope,
Ever
yours,
H. P. B.
—•—
121 DR.
F. HARTMANN —•—
LETTER
No. L
LUD. ST. 6,
WURZBURG,
Oct. 9th.
MY
DEAREST MRS. SINNETT,
First
of all—thousand thanks to your tyrant for his four books—and 10 thousand thanks
for the stamps. It will please old aunt. The bright side of life being disposed
of, and
becomes
indeed embarrassing, for I know not with what to begin. However, you
have
heard I suppose of the first slap in the face I have received at Adyar?
Without
asking me, they have, it appears, disposed of my Theosophist and kicked my name
off even from its title page. If so—and Nivaran’s news proves a fact, I have
done with them indeed. Never shall one line from my pen appear in a journal, my
own blood-property of which I am deprived in such an impudent
way—and as suicidal moreover, and more so, than the
suppression of the Defence pamphlet. Now the public and enemy shall say—“Mme.
B. is indeed kicked out of the Society—even the editorship and proprietorship
of her paper was taken away from her. Her guilt is fully recognised at Adyar.”
AMEN.
Ever
since D. N.’s return home, a dark cloud has settled upon me, and it did not
clear
off from the additional fact that for five or six days I could not have
one
half an hour’s conversation with him. The arrival of Dr. H. was the signal
for
the arrival of Profes. Selin, Hubbe Schleiden, my dear two Schmiechens, and
that
for a whole week I had a fair in my rooms. It made me positively sick. I
had
to give up to Hartmann my (own) room, and slept for six nights on the sofa
in
my writing room. The magnetism of that man is sickening; his lying beastly;
his
slander of Hubbe Schleiden, his intrigues unaccountable but on the ground
that
he is either a maniac—utterly irresponsible for the most part, or allowed
to
be possessed by his own dugpa Spirit. He is exceedingly friendly with me—and was
trying all the time to put me up to every kind of mischief. He told me he
was
in correspondence with the S.P.R.—people who had offered him membership (!!);
and that though he refused it he was ready to accept, if I said so, for then he
could protect me and defend before the public for he could say anything I told
him. I answered I wanted no lies told, there were enough of those in S.P.R.—without
his help—what I wanted was—TRUTH and justice. I wonder whether it is true that
—•—
122 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
he
was offered membership—or is it only another fib? Try to know if possible.
Now—
STRICTLY
PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL only for you two.
I
have ascertained most positively that D. N. has nothing personal against you.
He
feels the greatest affection and respect for both of you and gratitude to Mr.
Sinnett.
He had heard from some one in Paris whom he won’t name but whom I
suspect,
that Mr. Sinnett had said while in Paris that all the Hindus at Hd.
Qtr.
were liars; and that made him desperate, for he then thought that every
word
he said to Mr. Sinnett would be regarded as a lie. Now I feel sure Mr.
Sinnett
said nothing of the kind and if he has, he did not mean to include in
that
category our friend D. N. He is fearfully sensitive, quite in an abnormal,
unhealthy
way. He who was so frank, merry, good natured, has become gloomy,
secretive,
so easily irritated for the smallest thing, that one is afraid to
talk
to him, especially before other people. I have learned so much at least now
from
him—that his return to his Master depends upon the restoration of the
T.S.’s
previous status: unless the Society begins again to run smoothly, at
least
in appearance, he has to remain exiled—as he says—for it appears that his
Master—Mahatma
K. H. holds him, Damodar, and Subba Row responsible for the two thirds of Mr.
Hodgson’s “mayas”—he says. It is they, who, irritated and insulted at his
appearance at Adyar, regarding his (Hodgson’s) cross-examination and talk about
the Masters—degrading to themselves and blasphemous with regard to Masters;
instead of being frank with H. and telling him openly that there were many
things they could not tell him—went on to work to augment his perplexity, allowed
him to suggest things without contradicting them, and threw him out of the
saddle altogether. You see, Hodgson counted without his host: he had no idea of
the character of the true Hindu—especially of a chela—of his ferocious veneration
for things sacred, of his reserve and exclusiveness in religious matters; and
they (our Hindus) whom even I had never heard pronounce or mention one of the
Masters by name—were goaded into fury in hearing Hodgson make so cheap of those
names—speaking laughingly of “K. H.” and “M.”—etc. with the Oakleys. And it is
unfortunate me who now pays for all!
There
is another thing, and this is absolutely ghastly. D. N. showed me an order
from
his Master, written in Telugu, to go with Miss A. and Mohini to Paris and
disgusting
horror of the whole thing. Speak
—•—
123 PURE “VESTALS” —•—
of
the inner Circle, of the Oriental Group! The “Roman” group it ought to be
called,
with all those Messalines in it! My dear, dear friend, I cannot trust to
paper
names, it is too disgusting. But if you have ever murmured in the bottom
of
your heart and the solitude of your own room, at the injustice done (I have—I
am
sure!); at so many efforts remaining unnoticed and unhelped; at the sight of
so
many devoted theosophists ready to sacrifice their lives as they said, for
the Cause and Masters—neglected, unnoticed by the
latter—then do so no more!
If
There
are others in the group, and not one but four in number who burn with a
scandalous ferocious passion for Mohini—with that
craving of old gourmands for unnatural food, for rotten
satiated
palates—or of the “Pall Mall” iniquitous old men for forbidden
fruit—ten
year old virgins! Oh, the filthy beasts!! the sacrilegious,
hypocritical
harlots!; do forgive me, dear, to use such words but I shall never
be
able to do justice to my feelings. And let not Mr. Sinnett or yourself say
“nonsense”
to this. I have all the proofs in hand: letters, notes, and even
confessions, AUTOGRAPH CONFESSIONS to little D.
N.—imploring him—what do you think—to forgive them? Oh no; but to help them to
satisfy their unholy lust, to influence Mohini to yield to them “once—only
once!” Let us all bow before the purity of the poor Hindu boy. I tell you—no
European would have withstood the pressure. So foolish he was, so little vain,
that to the time D. N. came with his Master’s instructions to open his eyes and
protect him, he had never understood what those
females were driving at. In secret
—•—
124 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
• one of them is X----- Y-----; the two
others I can never, shall not
name.
The golden haired amanuensis of ----- went so far as to write in a trance
an
“order” from some unknown great adept “Lorenzo,” ordering Mohini in cunningly couched
expressions to make of “X . . . .” his alter ego, his own body to do with her
body as he pleased—but that such a union was absolutely necessary for the
development of both, the psychical having to be helped by the physiological and
vice versa. Mohini did “as he pleased.” He tore the epistle like a fool, but luckily
D. N. found the bits and has them. One of these days one or the other of the
London Potiphars shall turn round in her fury and act like Mrs. Potiphar of the
Pharaohs, shall father her own iniquities upon Mohini and—ruin the Society and
his reputation. D. N. got from him all these epistles to keep; and added to what
he got personally—it makes a nice collection. And to believe, with such a state
of things, that Masters shall approach the Oriental group at even
a 100 miles off!
But
what shall you think of a woman who, realising the impossibility that Mohini
should
ever accept her in such a light, knowing he is pure and is determined to
preserve
his “chela-purity” and chastity, that in short she can never hope to
become
the means of his down fall at first hand; who in order to facilitate for
herself
the thing, and willing even, in her first ferocious passion for him, to
accept
the rests of another—favorises and helps that other (B-----) to seduce
Mohini!!
All this in the confession No. 2 (for there are two, from two
parties—and
now say Master does not help!). This hapless woman suffers
fearfully.
She, at least, as I fervently hope, gave up the idea altogether, and
feels
a horror for herself. But repentance cannot obliterate the action. And oh
Lord—even
“daggers” and “killing,” such like threats are brought into play! The
last
epistle of B----- sent to Babajee D. N. is an apocalyptic vision on 8 pages
of foolscap—in which Masters name is blasphemously
used and words put in His mouth—Babula would feel ashamed of. She sees herself
in that vision killing
Mohini
with a dagger bought “Passage Jouffroi.”—Now what shall we do!
“I
guess” you understand now why poor D. N.’s “moral tone” was falling down, and his
“sympathy” in high demand at London. The little fellow is a brick. He used no
sweet manners, no equivocations, to tell the “fiery” ladies the four truths.
He
showed them all his great scorn and contempt for them, frightened them with
his
Masters indignation to death; called all the Tibetan thunders and lightning
upon
their immoral heads, promised them for their next incarnation that they
would
be buried alive up to the throat in the frozen earth and that the vultures
would
peck
—•—
125 M.’S CORROBORATION —•—
their
eyes out and peck their heads to death for daring to seduce a chela.
“Never
shall I forget,” writes one of them—“your just and holy anger—but,
oh—pity,
pity me, poor weak woman! And ask your friend (Mohini) not to be so hard for
me!”—Oh, Dyhan Chohans and devas of purity, veil your sad faces and save the
hapless T. Society! Where are we going to, at this rate?
For
mercy sake keep all this, you and Mr. Sinnett in the most inaccessible
recesses
of your hearts. For the sake of the Cause, spat upon, trampled under
the
feet—be silent but watch as keenly as you can do, lest something else should
turn
up. One of those four Messalines would be sufficient to kill the Cause for
ever.
And Adyar! See how those Theosophists love each other! Now Leadbeater is accused
of having turned from a thoroughly good man into a bad Anglo-Indian, under the
influence of Cooper Oakley! He is accused of saying bad things of me, and what
not!
Good-bye.
Dark is the horizon and not one light spot do I see in those thick
black
clouds. Hubbe Schleiden is sorry he came too late; he wanted to see you
and
explain the situation. Dr. H., intrigues fearfully, sets everyone against
him,
laughs and shows him unfit to be a President; trying to be elected
President
himself, etc. All as it should be.
Yours
for ever and seriously in profound gloomy despair,
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
Approximately
true copy of one 8th of the whole truth.
M.
LETTER
No. LI
Nov. 28/85
TO
MRS. AND MR. SINNETT,
In
days of my youth—when I had a reputation to lose as all other women have—a young
lady, I mean an unmarried woman, was, for the slightest petit scandale d’amour—where
she was the pursued victim, not the Messaline or Mrs. Potiphar, hooted out of
respectable society and seen no more. No one would marry her, no respectable family receive her; no social gatherings would tolerate her,
until the day of her marriage—if a fool could be found. Nowadays it appears
different.
Unmarried
spinsters pursue men into their bedrooms; strip themselves naked
before
a man they have sworn to seduce—in full day light, in woods, and—because that
man won’t have them, they swear revenge; and it is the amazed spectators who
had no hand in those little passe temps copied from scenes in the lupanars of
Rome and Pompeii—it is they who tremble before such revenge—not the acting and
active modern Messalinas!
—•—
126 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
There
are actions in our lives that to the day of death we are unable to account
for.
Such was the impulse that prompted Mr. Sinnett to introduce his “Roman”
character
in the trance-scene in Karma; the thought that had pursued him for
nearly
3 years in relation to something said in one of K. H.’s letters; and
finally
that led him to get acquainted and dance with, and then initiate that
reincarnation of a Stabian Hetera,
once called the “Tepidarium Damsel”—into the wretched and doomed Theos. Society.
And
now—behold Karma!!
Ladies
and Gentlemen of the L.L. We are right in the hornet’s nest and no
mistake
about it. The enclosed letter from Mme. de Morsier—who knows perhaps once upon
a time the step-mother who sold the Stabian beauty to the
Tepidarium—may
explain much, and it also may explain nothing. It is in answer to mine written
to her on a “half-shell” order. It appears that Mr. S. was anxious
not
on account of the presence of such a “bijou” in the Theosophical family but
simply
feared she might disgrace the O. L. still more -- (as though it was
possible!)
by charging her with opening Mohini’s letter, one addressed to him at
any
rate. Well I suppose by this time you have read a copy of the letter
forwarded
by me to the Emilie de Morsier and sent to Mohini by D. N.? As soon as I had
learnt that Mr. Sinnett was required to give his word of honour that I had not
opened one of her (B-----‘s) letters—I, whose name is H. P. B. in this unwelcome
incarnation wrote to ask the Emilie to tell the “Stabian”
reincarnation
that I had read the letter—though I had never opened it. But all
this
is immaterial since I might have opened it and still no harm done, for it
was one to Mohini between whom and me no secrets
are possible as he may, or may not tell you. Having disburdened my heart, on
the day following I wrote another letter. I asked her to keep it confidential.
Told her what she had been doing; how she had fallen under the influence of
Mad. B-----, the Avitchean powers (beautifully natural in her case) and
propensities, and therefore what were the influences that surrounded her. Ended
by telling her, that with her highly
nervous
temperament, her sensitiveness, etc.—if she went on as she did, I was
commissioned
to tell her (and that I was) that it might lead her to a dangerous
illness
and perhaps—worse. The enclosed is her answer.
The
work of Karma in every line. It bursts through!
The
handwriting is so bad that those words that I could make out, I have tried
to
make them more legible. Please note the sentences marked with blue.
Yes;
she is right. This time if the scandal bursts it shall [be]
—•—
127 IN
DEFENCE OF MOHINI —•—
hundred
times worse and more terrible than the Coulomb tricks. These touch but myself—one
of mighty little consequence. The future “stranger” shall be born but to sweep
off like a cyclone from the face of the earth the London Lodge, if not the
Theos. Society in India. It shall carry it off in a tornado of ridicule not of
indignation, against the shameless old spinster who is destined to become its mother—oh
no!; the ridicule will be for Mohini and the
blasphemous laugh for the MASTERS of such a chela. In India where they care for
the former and pay little attention to the failings of the latter—the scandal
shall do no harm—except perhaps to the extent of strengthening the contempt of
the Hindus for European ladies. In London it shall be the end of the Lodge. In
For
if, I say, she succeeded in convincing Mme. de Morsier of her
innocence
and of Mohini’s infamy and lust—so much so that de Morsier is
preparing
to play the Nemesis at the risk of death “pourvu que je fasse mon
devoir”—why shall she not succeed in persuading all
the
introduced
B. to de Morsier and brought the two ardent creatures together?”
Karma,
karma, my good friends!
Mohini
is pure and innocent and that’s just the reason why he shall be made out
guilty.
Take my advice and send for him, and have a good consultation. There
remains
one thing for the boy to do, the measure is violent and requires moral
courage
or—the full force of innocence: let Mohini go to Paris face the B-----
before
Mme. de Morsier and force her to confess her vile lie and calumny of the
Potiphar
she is.—I shall not sign—
LETTER No.
LII
DEAR
“couple of God”—only do not speak even to Mohini of my
two private letters to Mrs. S. It is useless and would only frighten him. All
depends—the future success, I mean, of the L.L. on our strict silence in
reference to this
unfortunate
business—especially the latter named—or third party. For, whereas in the B-----
and X----- Y----- cases, there’s pure animal lust in the last named,
it
is simply the working, if I may say so, of the “Dweller on the Threshold”; it
was
a trial, bitter terrible and the more ferocious, since it was the last
outburst
in her life—the “last rose of summer.” Poor, poor, dear girl—but she
has
withstood it bravely. I have written her a long letter as ordered to show to
—•—
128 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
her
that I know all and knew much last year already in reference to some other
things
only never opened my lips to any one in this world. Without precising
things
I have made her understand the truth and assured her of my still greater
respect for her now—for no one can help being
tempted who crosses the threshold.
There
are more chances for her now than ever—as I explained. But I tremble lest
vanity
and womanly pride should prove stronger in her than devotion to the
Society
and Cause. She will not mind me knowing—but if she ever suspected that you know
it she would throw overboard all—and turn perhaps a bitter enemy.
We
cannot afford to lose her especially now it would be the Society’s death.
Tell
me please have you a copy of the Defence Committee or shall I have to send you
the only one I have with notes. But except notes for the first pages of the Coulomb
pamphlet, I do not see what I can do? Why it’s lies from beginning to end.
Yours
H P. B.
LETTER
No. LIII
6
LUDWIG STRASSE,
WURZBURG,
Thursday.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
Yours
just received. It is not of my personal vindication you have to think, but
of that of the cause, of our Holy Mahatmas,
reduced by the moutons de Panurge of Mr. Myers into soap-bubbles and creations
of my over-heated fancy. Had the
outside
public one atom of sound, fair judgment in their brains—and this can be
only
made to be by such theosophists as yourself—there are two or three points
that
would kill them outright. One of these is—Hodgson said that he could not
forgive
me, for sacrilegiously debasing some of the highest truths of human
nature
to serve the political interests of Russia!!! The brass-clad donkey! Now
you
know if there is one sane man in India who, with the exception of padris and
the
Coulombs; could find one item of truth in this stupid accusation—I, who for
five
years kept harping on the same phrase before every dissatisfied Hindu:
“Better
put a millstone on your necks and drown yourselves all you Hindus, and
Mussulmans,
before the crazy notion of a change for the better if ever the
Russians
got hold of you—could ever enter your heads.” This sentence was written by me
even so long ago as from New York to Hurrychund Chintamon to Bombay and his
answer was seen by Hodgson, for Olcott found several of his replies to me and
he could infer my statement by the answer made by Chintamon.
—•— 129
A DOUBLE UNTRUTH
ABOUT H. P. B. —•—
“If
Russia is all you say then Heaven save and preserve us from such a
Government!”
Hodgson saw it, I say, and therefore he lies when he still persists
in
seeing in me a Russian spy or even a well-wisher of the Russian Govt. But
that
is a personal matter, now, between himself and his conscience—if he has
any.
Myers has done great harm in Paris last week, and he boasted of it in his
letter
to Solovioff. “I have seen your friend Doctor Richet and some other
theosophists
and made them to accept my views,” he says.
It
is not to Leadbeter, dear Mr. Sinnett, that you ought to have written about
the
suppression of everything in the Theosophist relating to me and my defence,
but
to the Executive Council at Adyar. Why they act so, is because Col. Olcott
made
them believe (under influence only not of a very occult character) all,
that
the L. L. found me guilty, that all the European theosophists had given me
up
and had turned away from me, that in a word I had become a pariah in your
eyes—while
Europ. theosophists were told that it is the Hindu who had lost
confidence
in me. Could the double untruth be cleared up, could you only write
to
the Executive Council an official letter denying the statement, then would
you
do the Cause a favour as well as to myself.
Yes;
many are the things we shall have to talk over and foremost of all the
Mahatma’s
desire that the Branches of the T.S. especially the L.L. and the
European,
should be made all autonomous under one President. A sudden and
efficient
stop must be made to “President’s Camps,” Poona, and “President’s
Camp,
Lahore” and “Special orders” and all that sort of thing. Ah well, who
loves
the Cause—has to sacrifice himself, and I am ever ready.
Au
revoir.
Yours
ever faulty,
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
LETTER No.
LIV
Saturday.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
I
have just read Mohini’s arguments against answering anything of a serious
detailed
kind to the S.P.R. I think he is right. Since no human power—can prove
to me that I wrote the Coulomb letter, and no
amount of denying shall ever prove to them that I have not written them—all the
rest became useless. The new trick of Hodgson about some diagrams being traced
by Coulomb—is splendid! Of course some were, and by Wimbridge
—•— 130
THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY
—•—
too,
and Olcott who tried and failed. I have a number of diagrams with reference
to
the evolution of the septenary globes and Cosmogony of Esoteric Buddhism,
made
by Djual Khool and Sarma for me to explain to you, and Hume during the
first
year of the Simla teaching; and several of them I had copied by a Parsee,
a
good draughtsman of the School of Arts at Bombay, who could not do them
well—and
then, I copied them from D. Kh.’s with Tibetan signs and names,
translating
them and doing it the best I could—since I did not want to give the
originals
out to a stranger and you could not have understood them—and gave them to
Olcott to be copied and one of them—the one I sent to Hume I believe—was copied
by Coulomb who is a very good draughtsman—too good unfortunately.
I
remember how well he copied the few lines in English, a remark by D. K. on the cosmogony—in
a way that I was astonished: it was a perfect copy of D. K.’s writing,
grammatical mistakes, and all. Neither Olcott, nor I, nor Damodar, ever made a
secret of such copies. Olcott nearly lost his head over rings and rounds and
kept Coulomb days at trying, and so the wretch, if he has preserved such bits
and scraps may well bamboozle the S.P.R. donkeys into making them believe it
was he who evoluted the whole theory out of his French head. That’s splendid!
I
wish I could get at my papers at Adyar to find some of D. K.’s originals, then
you
would see that it is the same, only with Tibetan names. But I shall do
nothing
of the kind to oblige the S.P.R. I shall not move one finger in the
matter
any more. If on the lines of exact science, exact (?) experts, and the
asinine
world’s judgment I am a FRAUD—let it stand. I begin to feel rather proud of
such capacities, than otherwise. I ask you, as a friend not to satisfy the
S.P.R.
in one single thing more, not to allow their profane hands to touch one
scrap
of paper coming from Mahatma K. H. or my Master, NOTHING, NOTHING. Unless you
do so, I shall never be able to give you anything more and I was preparing to
resume the teachings under Master’s guidance. Poor, poor Padshah—he is lost!
There’s
a trial for him! What next? Why if those are their proofs, then they are
worthy
indeed of being noticed!
Finally
the diagram sent to you by Mahatma K. H. cannot be an original copy by
C.
from mine made after D. K.’s, though to Hume I know I sent one of such copies or
I am greatly mistaken. Yours must be (and if I see it I can tell so to a
certainty)
a precipitation done from the clean one brought by Olcott from
downstairs
for I see the scene now before me. No one except me could make head or tail of
some diagrams sent by D. K.; then Mah. K. H. said—“You copy it and translate
the terms.” I did. Then I gave it to Olcott to give to the School of
Arts—after
that
—•—
131 MISSIONARIES SWEAR
TO RUIN THE T.
S. —•—
I
do not remember, all is hazy. But then either a day or two after I had two of
such
diagrams made between Olcott and Coulomb, and he brought them to me
(Olcott)
and then they were precipitated not in my room or
I
write all these particulars that you should not deny any such charge. Simply
say—you
know how it was done, without lowering yourself to an explanation, to
give
them the satisfaction of finding fault with your evidence and
contradictions
between “15 and 40 seconds”. Only write to poor Padshah a kind
letter.
Tell him he is ruining all his prospects—his young life for ever; by not
withstanding
and having the best of his probationary trial. He has cut his hair
and
now he is cutting the last blade of grass under his feet. I do feel such a
pity
for the poor good boy. He is so honest—so earnest!
And
now, dear Mr. Sinnett, my last decision. I shall have no more to do with
anything
coming from the S.P.R. I shall stoop to no explanations except to you
and
a few friends. I have with Masters’ help even—but a short time to live and
the
work I have on hand is enormous. I have to save the Theosophist, to write
and
finish the Secret Doctrine. What good shall I do the cause and any of you
who
believe in me, by convincing at the cost of superhuman efforts a dozen or
two,
and having the outsiders disbelieving in me as they ever have. The Coulombs and
Missionaries have sworn to ruin the Society: they have failed to do so by ruining
me—why should I to save my reputation with the few—help myself to ruin the
Society by depriving it of the S.D. and its members of what I can teach them?
And I will be doing so if I lose my time over the filthy lies, intrigues and
ever and daily arising new complications. Those who believe in me, let them remain
quiet, oppose a passive and negative resistance to the
enemy and no more.
The
others if we pay no attention to them shall soon tire out, for it takes two
to
quarrel. Write in this spirit simply and tell them in your cultured quiet and
clear
English to go to their grandfather—Old Nick. I told you I had become
callous—so
do not mind me. If you believe, if a few dozen devoted students
believe
in the Masters and that I am only their humble factotum—and ALL India
does—then
what does it matter. If nothing can take out of their heads the
expert’s
opinion that the letters are genuine—let them go. Master said last
night
only—“By showing them that you are as firm as a rock; by showing contempt or
even indifference to their opinions—proceeding with your work and duty harder than
before—you shall kill and silence them more surely than anything you may say
and do to disabuse their minds. The cycle is not over yet – the
—•—
132 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
Karma
not expended—“. And I shall do so. I am forwarding you back the vile
pamphlet
explaining but the first few pages, I shall no more keep it in the
house; it burns my hands, and sickens me and fills the
house with the atmosphere of that female fiend. I SHALL HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH
IT. Mohini was right,
I—wrong.
He has intuitions I have not. Dear Mr. Sinnett you can turn the laugh
on
them—do so. But do not touch occult things thinking you can explain them on a physical
or even psychological plane—if it is of the Spiritualistic domain. LET THEM GO.
As for Mr. Hodgson he may yet write one day with his own hand the following,
now precipitated by me as far as I can put myself in rapport with him.
In
India I was a fool—in the West I have become a donkey. Theosophy is alone
true—and
S.P.R. is an old monkey. 1
Now
this is a first attempt. But I swear had I dugpa proclivities I could forge
by
precipitation a letter which declared by experts as his own hand writing
would
lead him to the gallows. And I have spoilt it by passing the pencil over
it.
I had some respect for them for their earnestness, truthfulness, and honesty
at
first; I have now nothing but contempt for their asinine wickedness and
conceit.
Goodbye,
my only friend in England—the “only” for you have those qualities in
you
that none else has. I shall yet prove grateful. 2
With
kindest remembrances to you both from—D.N. 3
LETTER
No. LV 4
Monday.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
I
protest and refuse most emphatically any such thing as subscription or purses
made
up in my favour, and the reasons for it are several, which I am sure you
must
appreciate.
(1)
I do not want to sell for a consideration any occult work; S. D. least of
all.
(2)
I cannot engage or bind myself. Once I accept money for it, that work must
be
done well and satisfy the subscribers (of the fund or pension I mean).
Suppose
it does not? Then to all my crimes—dishonesty in money matters shall be added.
1 An imitation of Hodgson’s writing
precipitated in blue pencil by H. P. B.—ED.
2 The whole of this letter is in H. P.
B.’s—writing, but it is unsigned.—ED.
3 This note is in Babajee’s writing.—ED.
4
The remainder of this letter is missing.—ED.
—•—
133 D. N.’s RELUCTANCE
TO MEET H.
P. B. —•—
(3)
I cannot bind myself to a promise of working only on the S. D.—or working on it
at all to its end. I may be sick, I may die—I may have the blues, and once I
am
hired I should feel like a thief had I to give up my work for any of the
reasons
above named.
Finally
it is not the “British” only, who shall never be slaves. My father’s
daughter
is against the Biblical institution and I—DECLINE with thanks.
Besides
all this, if Hodgson’s new calumny, if his villainous lie is not shown
up
and disproved publicly (I mean the “spy” business which is a melody from
quite
a different opera) I shall never publish the S. D. What I said to you I
would
do, I will do it—I shall leave Europe and India.
LETTER
No. LVI
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
Yesterday
I sent a letter to Mrs. Sinnett meant for you also—that will explain
many
a thing. I beg to refute the new accusation—of my having been “the
unintentional
cause of D. N.’s reluctance” to meet you. I had myself at one time
the
idea that my remark, a casual one and which was never repeated—that if he
went
on before you using his arms a la Napolitaine and like a wind mill, you
would feel very shocked—had something to do with his
extraordinary reluctance, but I have dropped the idea since. The ease with
which all those ladies and gentlemen (chelas included) in cases they are
unwilling, or forbidden, or simply unable to explain—solve the difficulty by
corking it with my much ill-used self, is simply delightful. Now in this case
it can be proved in two lines. When I had passed the above remark—there was no
Miss Arundale or Mohini on the horizon yet to carry Babajee away. My remark had
so little impressed him, that had these two never come, he would have quietly
stopped at
Yes—I
had so many visitors, had to talk so much, got so tired out and completely exhausted
that the result was—a doctor needed
—•—
134 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
at
11 o’clock at night, yesterday. Such palpitations and cramps in the heart
that
I thought they were the last! I am now ordered to hold my tongue, hence I
have
more time to hold my pen—sans vil calembourg.
I
shall try to make the annotations but it makes me sick to touch the woman’s
pamphlet.
Love
to all—Mrs. Sinnett representing the sum total with yourself and Dennie.
I
manage to-day to send you 20 f. or £1. 10 francs of what I owe you from
Tedesco
and the rest for things I want—or one thing rather—“Five years of
Theosophy,”
something proposed by Mrs. L. C. H. for the benefit of the Society, made up by
her and Mohini, published and copyrighted by herself; and now if “the Society”
needs it it can either whistle, or do as I do—pay for it, i.e. pay for what was
taken bodily from my own journal and is composed of a number of my own articles!
Lovely. Please send me a copy of it. Mohini won’t—forgetting all I ask him to
do.
Of
course got the £3. 16. 0.—but also got unexpectedly £40 from Adyar for two months
and another £20 for a third month. So that now we are square. I have no claim
on them—except for the future—and about the matter of the Theosophist.
I
do not care to have my name paraded—I rather it would be Subba Row’s if a name at
all. But if I see on the cover Oakley’s name replacing mine—I shall kick, and hard—you
may bet.
Hubbe
Schleiden here; stopped for a week longer to Hartmann’s great disgust—and told
him of it only when the other had to catch the train. He is a dear man;
good,
spiritual, nice all round, morally and mentally. He sends his regards.
Yours,
H. P. B.
LETTER
No. LVII
1st
January, 1886.
NEW
YEAR’S REFLECTIONS
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT—
Last
evening as we were at tea Professor Selin made his appearance with the
famous
and long expected report of S.P.R. under his arm. I read it, accepting
the whole as my Karmic New Year’s present—or
perhaps as the coup de grace of 1885 -- the most delightful year of the short
Theosophical Society’s life.
Well—I
found positively nothing new as concerns my humble self. A good deal
concerning
yourself and others. More than ever I have recognised the hand—that guides the
whole thing;
—•—
135 A
LIST OF CALUMNIES
—•—
that
hand which, having grasped the learned members of Cambridge tightly by
their
noses leads them on—where? Were you Americans, Germans, Italians,
Russians—anything
but what you are, reserved, haughty, Society fearing
Englishmen—would
have surely led Mr. Hodgson, for one, the expert Detective and Agent of the
Indian padris, right to the Bow Street Court of Law, and after that beyond—DAHIN.
Now please do not imagine for one moment, that I am approaching anything like a
question of any of you, or all of you defending me. Les beaux jours d’Aranjues
sont passes. I am an old, squeezed-out lemon, physically and morally, good only
for cleaning old Nick’s nails with, and perhaps to be made to write 12 or 13
hours a day the Secret Doctrine under dictation, to be fathered, when (if)
published, with its authorship and ideas in which my literary style and gallicisms
will be detected. That I am called in it “publicly and in print” forger about
25 times, trickster, fraud etc. and a Russian spy to boot—all this, c’est de
l’histoire ancienne. But there are quite new features in it. Allow me to
enumerate.
Babula is quite the hero in this
voluminous Report.
(1) All my Master’s letters have been
written by him—Babula, a boy who
does
not know one single English letter.
(2) I am accused of having worked for
five years on the feelings of
the
Hindus to incite them to, and develop in them intense hatred for you
English.
THIS SHUTS THE DOOR TO INDIA.
(3) Mr. Hume believes in Mahatma K.
H.’s existence, (how kind!) only
he
is an adept “of limited powers.”
(4) After the lapse of five years our
Joot-Sing found out from his
Mahomedan
servants that the packet from Government House (in which was the
Mahatma’s
letter) had been, thanks to the same precious Babula, tampered with by me.
(5) Mrs. Sidgwick has succeeded in
some work of Penelope on a stitched
letter—ergo
I must have done the same with Smith’s letter (that flapdoodle,
however).
(6) Mohini, Bowajee, Bawani Row,
Damodar, etc. etc., are all liars and
confederates.
(7) Pardon me—but it appears that you
also are a semi-confederate if
not
a whole one. What is it about 60 alterations you have made in Mah. K. H.’s
letters,
after having said that you had not changed one word? Is he going to
incriminate
you too? Well it seems so. There are dozens of phenomena that cannot be
explained. Some of the most important have taken place in your house when I was
not there. They were very awkward, and so long as your trustworthiness could not
be impeached no great triumph could be achieved by Myers, Hodgson & Co. It was
absolutely necessary that you should be shown untrustworthy. You
—•— 136
THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY
—•—
are
in, and they got you. They never could, had you refused point blank to let
them
have the Mahatma’s letters. Your Karma, dear friend.
Now
will you take once in your life the advice of a fool. Do not say one word in
my
defence, with regard to phenomena. Try to become a Frenchman . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . . . . . . . . Kill them with ridicule and show them . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . . . . . . . ; have so richly illuminated 1. . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
.
truth
“an accomplished forger,” “a Russian spy,” they make of me a criminal
before
Anglo-Indian Govt. they ruin me to the end of my days—morally and
materially,
and ruin the Society; they throw mud at you, at Olcott, at every one
who
is not against me—and shall none of you lift a finger not in my defence—you can
never wash away the dirt I am covered with before those who do not know me—but in
your own defence, in protection of the whole body of gentlemen and ladies in
it—if not of the Cause? 2
LETTER
No. LVIII
TO
THEOSOPHISTS AND MEN OF HONOUR.
THE
long threatened report by Hodgson—the agent sent in 1884 by the S.P.R. to
fraudulently
produced by them at the instigation of the undersigned, who was
directly
and indirectly connected with such occult occurrences—has come out.
The
undersigned denies most solemnly the charges brought forward in the said
Report
against her, in addition to which—an implied fraud throughout—she is
called
in it more than once “forger” and a “Russian Spy.”
There
is not in that voluminous report one single charge that could stand a
legal
investigation and be shown correct. All in it is personal inference,
hypothesis
and unwarranted assumptions and conclusions. Every sentence in it is arbitrary
and libellous in the extreme, according to law—brutal and
calumniating,
in the sight of every unprejudiced witness acquainted with the
facts
that preceded the investigation and led to the Report. Only a few of the
phenomena, those with which the Coulombs were well
acquainted—are given in it in a distorted way, so as to meet the theory of
Deception. The two thirds of the phenomena
1
There is a portion of the original missing at this point.—ED.
2
The remainder of the letter is missing.—ED.
—•— 137
THE TREACHERY OF
HODGSON —•—
brought forward by the Theosophists, the most
important as the most unanswerable are silently skipped over. Only, and in case
they should be some day placed before the public as a counter-proof—the
witnesses to such are pelted with mud before hand, and an attempt is made to
show them untrustworthy.
The
said Hodgson had come to
conversations,
every idle word that no one thought at the time of weighing,
would
be later on made public, another sense given to it, and that his words
would
be made use of against the Society. Every facility was given to him for
investigation—nothing
concealed from him, as everyone felt and knew himself
quite
innocent of the absurd charges made. All this is now taken advantage of,
and
presented in an unfavourable light before the public.
CONSIDERING
ALL THIS, and that the said Hodgson and whoever may have sanctioned his
indelicate proceedings and urged, or helped him on, has—
(1)
Given out in his Report nought but the evidence of malevolently disposed
witnesses—bitter enemies for years; gossips, and
long standing falsehoods
invented
by the Coulombs and his own personal inferences and made up theories; and that
on the other hand he has unjustly suppressed every tittle of evidence in my
favour and where he could not make away with such testimony he has invariably
tried to represent my witnesses and defenders as either dupes or confederates.
(2)
That besides the Coulomb letters, the full authorship of which I deny as I
did
on the day of their appearance, not one of which, moreover, was I permitted
to
see in the original; that besides these I say -- (a) a number of private
letters
or passages therefrom, isolated, and therefore liable to any
construction—are
published, such publication being actionable by law;
(3)
That a slip from a MS page, confessedly stolen, by the woman Coulomb from my writing
desk years ago; evidently the translation from some passage in a Russian Daily,
a number of articles from which I have been translating for the Pioneer, asked
to do so by Mr. Sinnett in 1881-2-3. That again, that isolated fragment (not my
composition evidently, as the quotation mark at the end of it happily left—shows)
is reproduced with the manifest intention of throwing a vile
suspicion
upon me as being a “Russian Spy.”
(4)
That the said Hodgson and his employers know the position I am in, (having
been
repeatedly told the reasons why I could not
—•—
138 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
prosecute the Coulombs, reasons known as well to
every theosophist and that I am not ashamed to confess); and that knowing
this—i.e. that I am utterly helpless and defenceless in
theosophist—they
did not hesitate to take advantage of their position to
dishonour
with the utmost impunity a woman by branding her as a spy and a
forger.
(5)
Considering also, that if I am unable to prove the reality of the phenomena
produced in any Court of law, no more can Hodgson
& Co. prove their unreality otherwise than on circumstantial evidence and
their own pre-judged ideas; but that the charge of my ever being a Spy could,
on the other hand, be easily shown groundless, false and libellous; they still
support their malicious
allegations—just
because they can do so with perfect impunity and that it suits
them
at the present moment, when all England rises against and suspects
Russia—as
nothing can ruin me more efficiently in public opinion; this special
charge,
moreover, being the only one that could prove an anchor of salvation for
their
Report, as a motive had to be given for a series of frauds and deception
covering
ten years of incessant labour, poverty, struggles at the expense of
health
and the last money we had. Considering all this, and much more, what is
the
conclusion an honest man can arrive at, who, acquainted with the real facts
reads
their Report? Assuredly the following: the accusations, all Mr. Hodgson’s
cleverness
notwithstanding, could not stand unless a logical motive could be
found for such disgusting dishonourable course as the
one I am charged with.
The
true motive—publicly and openly professed gave the lie to all such accusations;
it weakened thoroughly if it did not destroy utterly the filthy charges. Why
not present those charges in a light the best calculated to have them accepted without
one word of protest by the public in general? This could be perpetrated with
impunity and it only ruins me for life alone. It only shuts the doors before
me, back to my home where I thought of dying in peace knowing I had done my
duty the best I could. What does it matter to the Honourable professors at Cambridge
that an old Russian woman has now but one course opened to her: to die a
disgraced beggar, far from all she loves and cares for in this life, so long as
they can satisfy their spite and punish those who refused to recognise in Mr. Hodgson
an infallible expert and in themselves as infallible leaders in things psychic
and phenomenal. Well they have probably done all this: let them triumph in
their iniquity.
This
is an action that every honest man or woman must and will regard as simply
infamous.
Thus,
considering finally, that if the Report is an alleged expression of the
writer’s
great integrity, of his mistaken, yet sincere
—•—
139 THE TRUTH
ABOUT HODGSON AND S.
P. R. —•—
and
honest views (which I now deny), that it might have been published in toto
in
order to set off his extraordinary acuteness and still lose nothing in
strength
of deduction and inferences if the direct charge of forgery and spying
--
(the terms “forger” and “spy”) had been even laid aside; but that it was not
done
for reasons above given, and the libellous and incriminating terms are
there
published for the whole world to see and accept; considering all this I,
the
undersigned, now call upon every truth and justice loving Englishman and
Englishwoman
in the United Kingdom of Great Britain—whose righteous laws command to regard
as innocent even a criminal before he is found by that law “guilty”—to show to
me reasons why the said Hodgson and his employers should not be proclaimed
publicly and in print by me as having been guilty of a mean, cowardly, base and
a brutal action; one to stoop to which no gentleman, no honest man of even an
average honourability would ever stoop to, in view of the existing
circumstances.
In
view of all the above I pray the London Lodge Theosophical Society to permit the
undersigned, putting the present in a more grammatical and documentary form, to
print and publish it and send it to every theosophist throughout the world; also
to have the same published in the Theosophist.
So
long as I have not broken altogether from the Theosophical Society and am
connected
with it; so long as any of my actions can by reacting upon it hurt the
Cause
or one of the Societies, I shall take no action that is not sanctioned by
all
the Councils. But if this is refused to me and I have to go about to the end
of
my life with the triple brand of Fraud, Forger and Spy upon me like a female
Cain,
helpless and powerless to even prove that the latter accusation is an
infamous,
uncalled for lie and a calumny, then it will remain for me but to take
another
course from which there will be no more return possible.
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
LETTER
No. LIX
9th
January.
THE
Countess has returned and among her news is one that shows on what hang the accusations
of Hodgson. For instance the German Theosophists cannot understand or justify
the phenomenon with the Japanese vases received by Olcott. “How
can Mahatmas (exalted beings) condescend to present Olcott with vases bought previously
at a shop and by placing there vases from a shop,” etc. etc. This is the
hypothesis, the following—the facts.
Colonel
Olcott had just returned home from some journey.
—•—
140 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
He
was upstairs in my “occult” room also my writing room. We had been talking and
he examined a new cupboard for books with a mirror door to it on a wall in front
of my writing table, whereas the shrine was on the wall on the right side of
the table. It had been just built in the wall and could have no traps or
holes
in the wall at the back of it, for that wall gives on the passage from the
staircase.
The cupboard had one plain board at its back. Who wanted the
phenomenon,
what was said, I do not remember. But Olcott after examining some books in the
cupboard received a letter from the Mahatma and was going away when I
recognised that there was something else going on in the cupboard. So I said—“stop,
let us see what it is.” Mme. Coulomb was in the room. Then he opened the
cupboard door and found two vases there with flowers in them.
He
made a great fuss over it. When I saw the vases I said, or thought at the time,
they are very much like those that I had just bought for the drawing room. It
is Mme. Coulomb who bought them in one of her journeys to town after furniture
and provisions. But these vases were a great deal larger and mine stood where
they were in the adjoining room on a corner table. It appeared to me at the
time that Mme. Coulomb looked very embarrassed. Now I know why. She had brought
me two vases, and now there are found marked in the
entries of the book where they had been bought. My opinion is that she bought
these additional two, with the intention of sending them as a present to one of
her Bombay friends, as she traded with Mrs. Dudley, buying things at Madras and
sending them to Mr. D. Dudley who sold them to sea captains and on the steamers
and shared with Mme. C. the profits. These two (Olcott’s) vases were evidently
in Mme. C.’s rooms in another house and were brought from their hiding place.
Otherwise, why would she have kept back from me the knowledge that she had
bought four and not two vases only for myself as I
thought? Anyhow, this is what I have to say to the phenomenon of the vases: --
(1)
It is not on the vases that it rested. Every apport whether performed
through
the will of an adept, or mediumship and “Spirits” is supposed to have
pre-existed
as an object. Such things as big vases that can be bought by the
dozen,
that are known to stand in various shops—are not to be materialised.
Generally
an object to be brought phenomenally is bought by the one who wants to perform
it, or is chosen in the house of another person, and then made to pass either
through closed doors, or a closed lid, or something of the sort.
Therefore,
--
(2)
The “phenomenon of the vases” rests on the fact of their being brought from
wherever
they were into a closed cupboard,
—•—
141 THE “VASE”
PHENOMENON —•—
that Olcott had locked himself and before which he
stood waiting for what would come next. If the wall at the back of the cupboard
was solid—it was a
phenomenon.
If there was some trap or hole in it, some contrivance which would make it
possible to pass an object from behind it, then it was fraud, by
whomsoever
perpetrated. The question then lies: was or was there not at that
time
a false or a double back to the cupboard? I say there was not. It was later
I
suppose that Monsieur Coulomb fabricated it for his special plans. It is
sufficiently
proved in Dr. Hartmann’s pamphlet.
Now,
it was not the Mahatmas who performed it. Colonel Olcott had enough
phenomena and daily during ten years and believed
enough without phenomena that one should go to the trouble of buying vases and
preparing tricks for him. It
was
done by a chela and for a certain reason I need not explain. I told Hodgson
that
I had two vases (which disappeared as well as Colonel Olcott’s) and all
that
I say here. Let Mr. and Mrs. Sinnett be asked how a doll or a toy was
brought
to their child at Simla. Had Mr. Hodgson gone to a certain toy-shop at
Simla
he would have learned by the entry books that a doll of that description
had
been bought by a young man on that same night and paid for it. And no doubt he
would have placed the trick in his Report as an evidence
against me. And Mr. Sinnett might have answered that the fact was known to him
too on that same night, for I had explained to them then and there how it was
done. No doubt phenomena-hunters would have preferred that the toy and vases
should have disappeared from a shop or a private house without having been paid
for, or that every nonsensical apport should be materialised like the
Universe—ex-nihil?Even the Coulombs knew this well. They had lived enough with
us and heard of phenomenal apports to understand that the phenomenon rested on
the appearance of objects within closed doors and recesses, hence the very easy
task to show to a scientific man—that it was a trick because the vases had been
bought at a certain shop and were marked on the sale books! And the scientific
Mr. Hodgson swallowed the new proof and published it. To close: An undergarment
was shown to Hodgson (a chemise in plain words) with stains from metal on its
right side. The dobi (washer) can testify and Babula and perhaps Miss Arundale,
and I can show all my old chemises so stained and eaten by the rust to holes.
In
—•— 142
THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY
—•—
as having been caused by a metallic musical-box
which rung when pressed with the elbow producing the “astral bells.” And Mr.
Hodgson, the scientific expert,
swallows
it and publishes it!!
AMEN.
H. P.
BLAVATSKY.
P.S.
I made Subba Row’s acquaintance on the day I first arrived to
Saw
him for a week and then when we left
January,
1883 had exchanged with him a few letters till then. How could I write
Isis
with his help, I in New York, he at Madras and perfect strangers to each
other?
(Query)
LETTER
No. LX
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
I
will try to do what I can to enliven the narrative in the Memoirs, because I
promised I would, and mean to keep to my promise,
however disagreeable it may be for me personally. I will not disappoint you; I
mean to ransack my brain in the pigeon-holes of the past and make it at least
interesting in its Russian
character
of occult reminiscences—since it is in no way interesting now, as the
Countess
and Hartmann both tell me. Of course, as they now stand—those
unfortunate Memoirs do remind one of a Harlequin’s
costume sown out of different patches. This is not your fault for you have done
the best you could under the circumstances. Yet, on the whole as Illarion well
expressed it, it does leave one the impression of a timid, scared beggar,
determined to shove herself amid a fine Society of ladies and gentlemen and
putting on the outside all her poor little finery, trying to conceal with it
her inward nakedness. “Look at me
gents—I
too, I have interesting things to brag of, and show to you. Only don’t
look
under—pray.” This is the real impression it leaves. Something, broken,
unfinished,
chaotic and not even romantic. LYING—brilliant lively fiction would
answer
better than such bits and snaps from one’s long, miserable, eventful and
ever
slandered life, as mine was.
Now
you labour under the impression that only such Memoirs of “Mme. B.’s” life, could,
at this juncture produce a reaction—one of thrilling interest, if not of
vindication
and full justification. I make bold to say that nothing of the kind
can
or will. One thing in the whole world could do it if I ever could consent to
it;
and it is the truth and nothing but the truth—the WHOLE of it. This would,
indeed,
make all Europe jump from its seat and produce a revolution. But you
see,
I am an Occultist; a pucka not a sham one, in truth. I am one at heart,
whatever
I may
—•—
143 THE METROVITCH INCIDENT
—•—
seem
else in the eyes of even the inner group, the “O. G.” I will not give back
in
the same coin as I receive, however much mine may differ from theirs—as the
latter
is false and mine is true. I look at all those people barking and
spitting venom around me now, as a disembodied
spirit may at the dogs baying at his shadow. I have suffered out the whole
material of suffering I had in my
earthly
nature and there’s no more fuel. I will struggle and fight on so long as
I
last; and then one fine day, the fatal puncture in the heart will make itself
felt
and I will be a “lovely corpse” five or six minutes after that, if not
earlier.
This is the programme. Until then—well, let things go.
Therefore,
since there is a very serious proposition made in your last letter to
me,
one that necessitates this long answer, I have to tell you my determination
for
the last time and at the same time to give you reasons for it, as I have too
much
esteem and affection for you to let you labour under the false impression
that
“it is one more whim of the ‘O. L.’ “ It is not; and you have to be assured
of,
and made to see it. Hence—this preliminary and my asking you to forgive the
necessity
of the long epistle. I do not know English enough to be brief.
You
say, “Thus, for example, we must bring in the whole of that Metrovitch
incident.”
I say we must not. These Memoirs will not bring my vindication. This
I
know as well as I knew that The Times would not notice my letter against
Hodgson’s
Report. Not only will they fail to do so, “if they are made
sufficiently
complete,” but if they appeared in six volumes and ten times as
interesting—they
will never vindicate me; simply because “Metrovitch” is only
one
of the many incidents that the enemy throws at my head. If I touch this
“incident”
and vindicate myself fully, a Solovioff, or some other blackguard
will
bring out the Meyendorf and “the three children incident.” And if I were to
publish
his letters (in Olcott’s possession) addressed to his “darling Nathalie”
in
which he speaks of her raven black hair “Longs comme un beau manteau de
roi,”—as
de Musset expresses it of his Marquesa d’Arnedi’s hair—then I would be simply
dealing a slap on the face of a dead martyr, and call forth the
convenient
shadow of someone else from the long gallery of my supposed lovers.
Now
why should I bring out Metrovitch? Suppose I said the whole truth about him?
What
is it? Well, I knew the man in 1850, over whose apparently dead corpse I
stumbled over in Pera, at
—•—
144 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
for
about four hours, before my guide could get mouches to pick him up. The only Turkish
policeman meanwhile who chanced to come up asking for a baksheesh and offering
to roll the supposed corpse into a neighbouring ditch, then showing a decided
attraction to my own rings and bolting only when he saw my revolver pointing at
him. Remember, it was in 1850, and in Turkey. Then I had the man carried to a
Greek hotel over the way, where he was recognised and taken sufficiently care
of, to come back to life. On the next day he asked me to write to his wife and
Sophie Cruvelli (the Duchess’s dear friend now Vicomtesse de Vigier at Nice and
to
his wife and did not to the Cruvelli. The former arrived from Smyrna where
she
was, and we became friends. I lost sight of them after that for several
years
and met him again at Florence, where he was singing at the Pergola, with
his
wife. He was a Carbonaro, a revolutionist of the worst kind, a fanatical
rebel,
a Hungarian, from Metrovitz, the name of which town he took as a nom de
guerre.
He was the natural son of the Duke of Lucea, as I believe, who brought
him
up. He hated the priests, fought in all the rebellions, and escaped hanging
by
the Austrians, only because—well, it’s something I need not be talking about.
Then
I found him again in Tiflis in 1861, again with his wife, who died after I
had
left in 1865 I believe; then my relatives knew him well and he was friends
with
my cousins Witte. Then, when I took the poor child to Bologna to see if I
could
save him I met him again in Italy and he did all he could for me, more
than
a brother. Then the child died; and as it had no papers, nor documents and
I
did not care to give my name in food to the kind gossips, it was he,
Metrovitch
who undertook all the job, who buried the aristocratic Baron’s
child—under
his, Metrovitch’s name saying “he did not care,” in a small town of
Southern
Russia in 1867. After this, without notifying my relatives of my having
returned
to Russia to bring back the unfortunate little boy whom I did not
succeed
to bring back alive to the governess chosen for him by the Baron, I
simply
wrote to the child’s father to notify him of this pleasant occurrence for
him
and returned to Italy with the same passport. Then comes Venice, Florence,
Mentana.
The Garibaldis (the sons) are alone to know the whole truth; and a few
more
Garibaldians with them. What I did, you know partially; you do not know
all.
My relatives do, my sister does not, and therefore and very luckily
Solovioff
does not.
Now,
shall I, in the illusive hope of justifying myself, begin by exhuming these
several
corpses—the child’s mother, Metrovitch, his wife, the poor child
himself,
and all the rest? NEVER. It would be as mean, and sacrilegious as it
would
be useless. Let
—•—
145 THE PRIVATE
PART OF H. P. B.’s
LIFE —•—
the
dead sleep, I say. We have enough avenging shadows around us—Walter Gebhard,
the
last. Touch them not, for you would only make them share the slaps in the
face
and the insults I am receiving, but you would not succeed to screen me in
any
way. I do not want to lie, and I am not permitted to tell the truth. What
shall
we, what can we, do? The whole of my life except the weeks and months I
passed
with the Masters, in Egypt or in Tibet, is so inextricably full of events
with
whose secrets and real actuality the dead and the living are concerned, and
I
made only responsible for their outward appearance, that to vindicate myself,
I
would have to step on a hecatomb of the dead and cover with dirt the living. I
will
not do so. For, firstly, it will do me no good except adding to other
epithets
I am graced with, that of a slanderer of post mortem reputation, and
accused,
perhaps, of chantage and blackmail; and secondly I am an Occultist, as
I
told you. You speak of my “susceptibilities” with regard to my relatives, I
say
it is occultism, not susceptibilities. I KNOW the effect it would have on
the
dead, and want to forget the living. This is my last and final decision: I
WILL
NOT TOUCH THEM.
And
now, to another aspect of the thing.
I
am repeatedly reminded of the fact, that, as a public character, a woman, who,
instead
of pursuing her womanly duties, sleeping with her husband, breeding
children,
wiping their noses, minding her kitchen and consoling herself with
matrimonial assistants on the sly and behind her
husband’s back, I have chosen a path that has led me to notoriety and fame; and
that therefore I had to expect
all
that befell me. Very well, I admit it, and agree. But I say at the same time
to
the world: “Ladies and gentlemen, I am in your hands and subject and
subordinate
to the world’s jury, only since I founded the T.S. Between H. P.
Blavatsky
from 1875 and H. P. B. from 1830 to that date, is a veil drawn and you are in
no way concerned with what took place behind it, before I appeared as a public
character. It was my PRIVATE LIFE holy and sacred, to all but the
slanderous and venomous mad-dogs who poke their
noses under cover of the night into every family’s and every individual’s
private lives. To those hyenas who will unearth every
tomb by night to get at the corpses and devour them, I owe no explanations.
If
I am prevented by circumstances from killing them, I have to suffer, but no one
can expect me to stand on
—•—
146 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
but
I know it—especially for the last decade—better than you know them perhaps, though
you have been moving in the midst of that cultured and refined lot for the last
25 years of your life. Well, humbled down as I am, slandered, vilified and
covered with mud, I say that it would be beneath my dignity to throw myself on
their mercy and judgement. Had I even been all they accuse me of; had I had lovers
and children by the bushels; who among all that lot is pure enough to throw at
me openly and publicly the first stone? A Bibiche who was caught, is in company
with hundreds of others who have not been so exposed, but—they are no better
than she is. The higher spheres of Society, from Grand Duchesses and Princesses
of blood down to their cameristes—are all honey combed with secret sensuality, licentiousness
and prostitution. Out of ten women married and unmarried if you find one who is
pure—I am ready to proclaim the present world comparatively holy, yet, with
very few exceptions all the women are liars to themselves as to others. Men are
all no better than animals and brutes in their lower natures. And it is they,
such a lot, that I am going to ask to sit in judgement over me; to address them
tacitly and virtually, by describing certain events in my life in the Memoirs
to “please give me the benefit of the doubt.” “Dear ladies and gentlemen, you,
who have never failed to sin behind a shut door, you, who are all tainted with
the embraces of other women’s husbands and other men’s wives, you, not one of
whom is exempt from the pleasure of keeping a skeleton or two in your family
closets—please take my defence.” No Sir, I die rather than do it! As Hartmann
truly remarked, it is far more important what I myself think of me, than what
the world does. It is that which I know of myself that will be my judge
hereafter, not what a reader who buys for a few shillings my life, “a made up
one” as he will always think—believes of me. If I had daughters whose
reputations I might damage by failing to justify my behaviour I would perhaps
resort to such an indignity. As I have none and that
three days after my death all the world save a few theosophists and friends
will have forgotten my name—let all go, I say.
The
moral of the above and conclusion: you are welcome to stun the public with
the
recital of my life day after day ever since the T. S. was founded, and the
public
is entitled to it. I dare say you could do hundred times more good by
laying
it bare before the readers, than by initiating them into the life of a
Russian,
one of thousands and with whom they are by no means
concerned, (at any rate I am not concerned with them). Then you have fourteen
or fifteen volumes of Scrap Books, to furnish you with material enough for 100
volumes—“The History of the Theos.
—•—
147 H. P. B. NEVER
MME. METROVITCH —•—
Soc.
and its Fellows, of Their Tribulations and Triumphs, their ups and Downs.”
This
would be legitimate work every word of which could be verified and this not easily
gainsaid by the enemy. The Memoirs have just arrived at that point (in
the
proofs I have). Show systematically the unheard of persecutions,
conspiracies,
even the mistakes made and that will be our justification. “We
hate
and persecute only that which we fear.” You might make the movement
immortal
if you would undertake to describe it. Leave Part I as it is, with many
additions
I have made and will make. Do not hurry with the publication and leave
me
time to see you personally at Ostende. Believe me it will be better. Write to
Olcott
to ask him to copy for you some portions of Prince Emil Wittgenstein’s
letter
to him about me; and from others who knew and met me at various times.
Hartmann
seems to have plenty of material he has collected from letters received
by
him and he seems willing to give them up. Anything from others, however
erroneous
for which neither you or I will stand responsible. What I add is not
mine
but from several letters I received from my aunt. I deliver myself into
your hands and ask you only to remember that the
Memoirs are sure to throw out like a volcano some fresh mud and flames. Do not
awake the sleeping
dogs more than necessary. That I never was Mme.
Metrovitch or even Mme. Blavatsky is something, the proofs of which I will
carry to my grave—and its no one’s business. If I had a husband to screen and
protect me I might have been a
Messalina
to my heart’s pleasure and no one would dare, save in under breath, to say a
word against me. When I think that I stand open to prosecution for
defamation
because I wrote in a private letter that a woman who wrote such a
letter
to Mohini must be a Potiphar; and that every one in England seems to have
a
legal right to accuse me openly and publicly of bigamy, trigamy and
prostitution
without my being able to say one word in my defence in a Court of
Law—I
am inclined to send for a dose of peppermint—I feel sick with disgust. The contempt
and scorn I feel for your free country with its boasted justice and
equity,
is unutterable and beyond words. I feel like asking the Russian Govt. to
permit
me to return to die in some corner where I will be left quiet. The sense
of
my duty to the Masters is the only thing that prevents me from doing it. He
who
does not meddle with politics is safe in Russia and libel is severely
punished
there. What is my future? What have I before me thanks to your
missionaries,
to the English fiend called Coulomb, to the Bibiche tongues that
soil
one as soon as they touch one, to the Hindus made Gods in Europe and kicked in
their own country, to all the ding and clash around me? I cannot return to
—•—
148 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
the
Coulomb is at Bombay and the Padris around us, I would only ruin the
Society.
No sooner will I have landed than some one of them will find some
pretext
to bring me into Court and then—goodbye Society. Your Cambridge Dons have
ruined me, thanks to the handles they got in the shape of Olcott’s idiotic braying,
people’s cowardice and various other things. I am a thing of the
Past—and
a sorry looking thing, dirtied beyond words. There is no help and no
salvation
for me. Try to screen yourselves, and leave me to my present fate. And
thus—I WILL NOT WRITE ANYTHING about the “Metiovitch
incident” nor any other incident of the sort, where politics and secrets of
dead people are mixed up. This is my last and final determination. If you can
make the Memoirs interesting in some other way, do so, and I will help you.
Anything you like after 1875. My life was a public and an opened life since
then, and except during my hours of sleep I was never alone. I defy the whole
world to Prove any of the accusations brought against
me during that time. As for phenomena—had I been the immaculate Virgin Mary to
that day—it would have been the same thing. This is all our fault. Mine, Olcott’s,
yours, Damodar’s, everyone, even the Masters who looked on and—permitted it. We
cannot expect to be ever waving a scarlet rag before the bull and then complain
of his goading us. And, as in this case it is the worst kind of a bull—your “John Bull.” Of course we came out of it second best.Pray
excuse my frankness and the long letter.
Yours
faithfully,
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
LETTER
No. LXI
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
Last
night received your letter to which I answered and sent, moreover, a
telegram
to you giving you carte blanche for anything you may do. But now to
your
questions I am compelled to say much. Even in this my vindication, and a
full
one it could be, Myers & Co. have built a wall between me and this last
possibility
at any rate as regards my aunt.
Last
year from Elberfeld she sent the preface to these Memoirs signed with her
name
to Myers. In it, she put a distinct condition that her full name should
never
be published but only her initials. It was said in it as far as I
remember, “this (the name) is for Mr. Myers only
who is expected as a gentleman never to use it,” or something like this. Now
the “gentleman,” the first thing
—•—
149 MYERS OF
THE S. P. R. —•—
he
does is to permit Hodgson to connect my aunt’s full name in print with my
fraud
and political motive. There is a full note in the Report I read it—where
it
is said that Madame Fadeef being an aunt of mine and a Russian, no reliance
can
be placed on what she says. K. H.’s letter to her was forged by me, the wise
detective
says, etc. How it is I do not know. But my aunt seems to have learnt
it
earlier than I did. Whether it is through Solovioff the infernal gossip, or
someone
else, but last night I had a letter from her reproaching me mildly but
firmly
and as I see in great agony, (I will tell you why). “I told you,” she
says,
“at Elberfeld not to give my name and you answered that Myers was a
theosophist
and a gentleman, a man of honour, and now I hear that I am also
mixed
in the phenomena business—phenomena that were your curse during your
childhood
and youth and which have now led you to public dishonour.” And she goes on
saying that it was and is all from the devil, and asks me not to be
angry
with her but that my Masters do seem to be uncanny, so uncanny that she as a
Christian dare not even think of them! This is what Myers has done, and this, after
talking with Miss Arundale and Mohini who remember what she wrote (perhaps it
is still there on the MSS but she wrote in French on a slip of paper to Mr. Myers
independently); this dishonourable action you ought to bring to light. You ought
to expose him before every honourable man, and this action he will not be able
to deny, and will stand as a blackguard before many. If you do not do this, then
you shall have lost the best opportunity of showing the
Well,
I will send her your letter. I added to it four pages of supplications,
and
saying why it was so necessary now she should help me. I am sure that ready as
she is to do anything for me, she will refuse permission to publish her name after
it has been so disgraced by Hodgson, the more so as no one will believe her
after this. Of this I feel sure. Remains my sister, she is in Petersburg.
She
has four big daughters to marry. She may send you what she has written. “The truth
about Mme. Blavatsky,” and add a few things. Though now, owing again to Solovioff’s
gossip her daughters, my nieces—are furious against me for some remarks I have
made as to their desinvolture—and my sister is her daughter’s humble tool and
victim. My aunt adored and reverenced her only brother, my uncle who died
lately, General Fadeyeff. Had she been married she would have given her name
and not cared for it; but she told me that to see his name in print, his name
in the mouth of sceptics laughing at and desecrating it as she thinks—is more
[than] she could bear. That’s one. Let us wait for her reply.
Now
your questions:
1.
My childhood? Spoilt and petted on one side, punished
—•—
150 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
and
hardened on the other. Sick and ever dying till seven or eight,
sleep-walker;
possessed by the devil. Governesses two—Mme. Peigneux, a French woman and Miss
Augusta Sophia Jeffries a
No
Kurd nurse. One was half a Tartar. Father’s soldiers taking care of me.
Mother
died when I was a baby. Born at Ekaterinoslow. Travelled with Father from place
to place with his artillery regiment till eight or nine, taken
occasionally
to visit grandparents. When 11 my grandmother took me to live with her
altogether. Lived in Saratow when Grandfather was civil Governor, before that
in Astrachan, where he had many thousands (some 80, or 100,000) Kalmuck Buddhists
under him.
2.
Visit to London? I was in London and France with Father in ‘44 not 1851. This latter
year I was alone and lived in
then
at Mivart’s Hotel, but as I was with old Countess Bagration, and when she
went away remained with her Jezebel demoiselle de
compagnie, no one knows my name there. Lived also in a big hotel somewhere
between City and
—•—
151 H. P. B. TRAVELS
WITH THE MASTER
—•—
world.
See the harm the Occult World has done to me with all your kind, good
intention.
Had you not named my relatives, my inner life, my visit to Tibet, no
one
would have believed me more of a fraud than they do now. So you see. Let us leave
my poor aunts and my relatives names out of the book, I implore you.
Enough
dirt accumulated on one of the family, do let us not drag holy names and names
I respect into the book and thus sentence them beforehand to mangling.
3.
Went to India in 1856 -- just because I was longing for Master. Travelled
from
place to place, never said I was Russian, people taking me for what I
liked.
Met Kulwein and his friend at Lahore somewhere. Were I to describe my
visit to
very
thin then) which is solemn truth, what would people say? So I was in Egypt
with
the old Countess who liked to see me dressed as a man student, “gentleman
student”
she said. Now you understand my difficulties? That which would pass
with
any other as eccentricity, oddity, would serve now only to incriminate me
in
the eyes of the world. Went with Dutch vessel because there was no other, I
think.
Master ordered [me] to go to Java for a certain business. There were two
whom
I suspected always of being chelas there. I saw one of them in 1869 at the
Mahatma’s
house, and recognised him, but he denied.
4.
“The incident of the adoption of the child!” I better be hung than mention
it.
Do you know if even withholding names what it would lead to? To a hurricane
of
dirt thrown at me. When I told you that even my own father suspected me, and had
it not been for the doctor’s certificate would have never forgiven me,
perhaps.
After, he pitied and loved that poor cripple child. On reading this
book
Home, the medium, would be the first one to gather the remnant of his
strength
and denounce me, giving out names and things and what not. Well my dear Mr.
Sinnett if you would ruin me (though it is hardly possible now) we shall
mention
this “incident.” Do not mention any, this is my advice and prayer. I
have done too much toward proving and swearing it
was mine—and have overdone the thing. The doctor’s certificate will go for
nothing. People will say we bought or bribed the doctor that’s all.
5.
Yes, returned to relations in Jan. 1860.
6.
Yes, about ‘62 went with my sister to Tiflis, left it about ‘64 and went to
Servia,
travelled about in Karpat all as I explain in my story about the Double.
The
Hospodar was killed in the beginning of 1868 I think (see Encylopaedia),
when
I was in Florence after Mentana and on my way to India with Master
—•—
152 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
from
Constantinople. If you take as your ground to stand upon, my novel the
“Double
murder” then you are wrong. I knew the Gospoja and Frosya and the
Princess
Katinka and even the Gospoda Michel Obrenovitz far earlier. The
paragraph in some Temeswar paper was given to me n
1872 (I believe) when I went from Odessa to Bukharest to visit my friend Mme.
Popesco, and what had happened in Vienna was told to me after my incident with
Gospoja using Frosya for it. Why every detail is true—so far as I am concerned
and the actors in it. But I told you at Simla yet that though the details were
true, I had made up these details and true personages into a story for the Sun
(N. Y.) under the nom de plume of “Hadji Mora.” Every day people write really
fictitious stories, beginning with “In 1800 so and so I was there or at another
place” and invent the whole. I simply wrote facts, about personages known to me
personally, and only instead of Frosya Popesco (another Frosya) who told me
what had happened after I had seen the evocation, I put the author in her place
and now Sellin comes out and cross examines me; and I tell him that I know the
story to be true, he asks me—were you there? I say no, for I was on my way to
—•—
153 MENTANA —•—
joy.
The story is true. Only I was not going to publish the name of Madame
Popesco
who gave to me the last act and who had read it in some Vienna number immediately
suppressed—and the name of Karageorgevitch’s relative whose attendants those
two men were, to have a law suit on my back. That’s why I said I read it in a
Temeswar coffee house, and even that was dangerous as
I had named Karageorgevitch, whose son is now married to Zorka the Montenegrian
Princess.
Was
I writing my diary or confessions, to be honour-bound to give the facts as
they
happened, years and names? Funny pretensions. It is like my Russian Letters from
personages
only bringing in together within three or four months time, facts and
events
scattered all throughout years as some of Master’s phenomena. Is it a
crime
that? Because Scott thought so. Why, if having been in Calcutta and
Allahabad
I have to write upon their antiquities—which I have seen myself—why
shouldn’t
I resort to Asiatic Researches and even Thornton’s Gazeteer for
historical
facts and details I could never remember myself. Is it considered a
literary
theft to refer to Encyclopaedias and guide books? I do not copy or
plagiarise,
I simply take them as my guides, safer than my memory. Please tell
me
also in the case of that “Double Murder” story of mine, am I a criminal for
writing
under “Hadji-Mora’s” name—a story, and then adding the only fictitious
particular—namely
that I read the paper myself, instead of what was true that
Mad.
Popesco gave it me to read in her diary into which she had copied that
event, which putting dates together I considered as
having happened on that same night? What do you think? It must be the
Elementaries of Obrenovitch and
Princess
Katinka who bring me this trouble for using their names in such a story
at
all. Karma again. But I digress from your questions.
Please
do not speak of Mentana and do not speak of MASTER I implore you. I did come
back from
Went
March 1873 from Odessa to Paris—stopped with my
—•—
154 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
cousin
Nicolas Hahn (son of my uncle Gustave Hahn, father’s brother and the
Countess
Adlerberg his mother) at Rue de L’Universite 11, I believe; then in
July
the same year went as ordered to New York. From that time let the public
know
all. It’s all opened.
Oh—the
Countess Kisseleff? Thanks. She is dead as a door nail for over 20 years I
believe. Died at
to the
It
is simply impossible that the plain undisguised truth should be said about my
life.
Impossible to even touch upon the child. There’s the Baron Meyendorffs and all
Russian aristocracy that would rise against me if in the course of
contradictions
(which are sure to follow) the Baron’s name should be mentioned.
I
gave my word of honour and shall not break it—TO THE DEAD.
Then
from 17 to 40 I took care during my travels to sweep away all traces of
myself
wherever I went. When I was at Barri in Italy studying with a local
witch—I
sent my letters to Paris to post them from there to my relatives. The
only
letter they received from me from India was when I was leaving it, the
first
time. Then from Madras in 1857; -- when I was in South America I wrote to
them
through, and posted in London. I never allowed people to know where I was and
what I was doing. Had I been a common p----- they would have preferred it to my
studying occultism. It is only when I returned home that I told my aunt that the
letter received from K. H. by her was no letter from a Spirit as she thought.
When she got the proofs that they were living men she regarded them as devils
or sold to Satan. Now you have seen her. She is the shyest, the kindest, the meekest individual. All her life her money and all is
for others. Touch her religion and she becomes like a fury. I never speak with
her about Masters.Now they want to make out I never was in
pages
the author had forgotten to add, that though everyone considered the
manifestations
taking place in my sister’s presence as caused by the
—•— 155
H. P. B. NEVER A
MEDIUM —•—
Spirits
and through her mediumistic power, she herself has constantly denied it.
My
sister, H. P. Blavatsky, had passed most of her ten years of travelling (from
1850
to 1860) and absence from Russia in India, where, as it seems, spiritual
theories
are in great contempt; and the mediumistic manifestations, so called by
us,
are explained in that country as proceeding from a source, to drink from (or
feed
at which) my sister regards as lowering her human dignity, hence does not
wish
to recognise her powers as coming from such a source. 1 However it may be, and
whatever the nature of that force which helps her to produce her
manifestations,
only during her stay with me at the T---- (Tahontoff) these
phenomena took place constantly under the eyes of
all, of those who believed and who disbelieved in them, leaving all and every
one in the greatest amazement.”Now this short para.
and foot-note prove two things; that I was in India at some time between 1850
and 1860; and that even so far back as in 1860 and 1864 -- I had always
maintained that it was no spirit power that moved and helped me, but our
Masters and their chelas. This is shown from the conversations quoted in her
“Truth” about me which you have, and what I now
give is called “The Inexplicable and the Unexplained” from the personal and
family Reminiscences by V. Jelihovsky. Now suppose I send you this little pamphlet, and that you should take it to Mme. Novikoff and
kindly ask her to translate for you the marked paras. on pp. 41 and 42 with the
foot-note. And having done so, that you should write to my sister in English a
long letter (she speaks English better than I
do),
explaining to her the awful disgusting Hodgson’s pamphlet telling her how
absolutely
necessary it is that there should come out a defence. Mind you, you
have
(if you do write) [to] tell her how completely Hodgson denies all powers in
me—and
that he attributes as my motive for the vile ten-year long travesty and
deception
to political motives, my being a Russian spy. If you do write to her
she
can give you far more than my poor aunt who hates writing and feels sick at
the
whole thing already. But my sister is very combative, and fearless. If you
tell
her that Hodgson seeks to ruin my honour and reputation, etc. etc. she is
capable
of finding for you a whole array of eye witnesses of the highest names
in
—•— 156
THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY
—•—
Pskoff,
who will testify to the phenomena they have seen between 1860 and ‘62.
This
would be something. Ask her what she knows or heard of my powers when I was in
Imeretia and Mingrelia in the virgin forests of Abhasia and the
Coast—whether
people, independent princes and archbishops and nobility, did not flock from
every where to ask me to heal and protect them, do this and the
other.
Only you must show her plainly that you of the L. L. the English
Theosophists
are and mean to remain true to me and defend me, but that she must help you by
furnishing you with materials against the enemy. I can assure you she can. She
is very vain and conceited and the opposite of me as Mohini can tell you. But
she is very proud and if you only show her in what horrible
position
I am and appeal to her family pride and honour she will do anything.
Otherwise,
they (in Russia) are as bitter against you English as you are against
them—now.
That’s
all I can say. She was very angry with my aunt for giving out that letter
of
Mahatama K. H. and was furious with me for telling that story about the
ancestor
which she says is a family secret, “a skeleton in the family cupboard”
or
how is it, the expression? So you are warned. Simply tell her, that I have
pointed
out to you the passage from her latest pamphlet and that you would like
her
to tell you all she knows about me. She won’t make many compliments to me, I can
assure you—unless your letter finds her in one of her gushing fits. If you want
the pamphlet I will send it to you and you send it back, unless Mme.
Novikoff
(you could do it through Schmiechen or Mohini) could translate for you some of
the wonderful occurrences in our family that I will mark. The Countess just
returned from
Yours ever,
H.
P. BLAVATSKY.
My sincerest love to Mrs.
Sinnett.
LETTER
No. LXII
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
I
send you the translation of these few pages from my sister’s pamphlet or
book—as
described on the pages that follow. Whether they will be of any use or
not,
they are still an addition to what you have. You will see there that (a) as
early
as 1860 I maintained that the shadows (or astral bodies) that came daily
and
constantly and walked about the house so unceremoniously as to be seen by
every
one (my father, whoever knew him—at any rate—cannot be taken for a
credulous
fool, and this is why I
—•— 157
THE COUNTESS SEES M.
—•—
translated
that portion of her work that relates to him) -- were not sweet
“spirits”
but astral forms; (b) that it was no mediumship; (c) that I could have
no
confederates in my father’s house, where there was no one to help me, except my
sister a bigot now with her St. Nicholas, her two babies, the governess of our
younger sister, the latter, a child of ten years and myself. The
rest—all serfs, trembling before my father who was very strict, and who
certainly would not have consented to deceive and bamboozle their master.
And there, no “Russian spy” theory, no motive can be found to explain facts at
that time. There are hundreds of witnesses to these facts yet living—in
Details
about my marriage? Well now they say that I wanted to marry the old
whistlebreeches
myself. Let it be. My father was 4,000 miles off. My grandmother was too ill.
It was as I told you. I had engaged myself to spite the governess never
thinking I could no longer disengage myself. Well—Karma followed my sin.
It
is impossible to say the truth without incriminating people that I would not
accuse
for the world now that they are dead and gone. Rest it all on my back.
There
was a row already between my sister and aunt—the former accusing me of having
slandered my dead relatives in the question of my marriage and that my aunt had
signed their and her own condemnation. Let this alone. I know one
thing:
I cannot write the Secret Doctrine with all ------- I constant agony
about
me. I know Hubbe, psychologised by Sel . . .I
is shaky. He is an
unfortunate
little nervous, weak man. Sellin made him believe that it was Olcott
who
cheated him with Mahatma’s letter in the railway carriage!! Unfortunate
Olcott.
Where’s the line of demarcation between his being a credulous fool and a knave!
I saw Damodar last night, and the Countess sees constantly Master.
Whenever
I see him or listen to what He says—she asks, with her eyes staring at
Him
“What does He say?” She is a terrible clairvoyante. She tells me (this in
strict
confidence) that during her stay at the Gebhard’s last year and this one,
they
had a number of phenomena and saw Master. But that they had kept it back
from
yourself and the L.L. not to create gossip and in some cases envy. I did
not
thank her for such discretion. There’s something wrong going on at the
Gebhards,
I feel it. D. N. is terribly mad and quite likely, in order to screen
his Master and the Matham in
I The original is damaged here.—ED.
—•— 158
THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY
—•—
on
a tight rope between the abyss of divuldging that which is not lawful, and
either
telling what people call lies or being accused of having things to
conceal—that
has ruined the whole situation, and given a handle to the enemy.
Ah,
dear Mr. Sinnett, how well it would have been had we all never pronounced
Masters’
names except in rooms with closed doors and doing as the Brahmin chelas do. You
will read Hartmann’s “Theosophical Fable” and our answer to it sent to you with
a few more explanations.
I
hope this heart will last until I finish the Secret Doctrine. Have you thought
well
over the problem of sending my protest to the Times. Dangerous thing! Are
the
papers talking of it? There’s the whole danger. What can be done?
Yours, in blank idiotcy.
H.
P. B.
LETTER
No. LXIII
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
I
send you a funny thing. Read the 3rd, 4th, & 5th & 6th lines. This is
undeniably
my handwriting. Kandhalavala copied it from my letter to him. When I
received
and saw it I was positively startled. Let me write it “staunch fearless
friends
whose devotion to Master and yourself has not wavered one hair’s
breath”—I
wrote it without looking at it, so as not to be impeded by the desire
of
copying it. Now I ask you, were such a letter a whole letter written in the
same
handwriting as these two ½ lines wouldn’t [you] swear it was my
handwriting?
Please put it carefully away and keep it. Why Kandhalavala should
have
copied that sentence in my handwriting I do not know. Once he had written
three
letters copied from my own and brought them to me and I swore to them
myself,
not knowing what he meant. I wish you would write to him and ask him if he
could send you a whole letter if you think that those two lines would not be
sufficient
to submit to an expert. I am determined to collect about half a dozen
of
forged and as many letters written by myself, and submit them to the same
experts.
We will see whether they are not caught. For after all the only
damaging
really damning proof against me for the world lies in those letters.
Judge
will write a few letters in my handwriting and Judge Kandhalavala the
other.
I tell them these lines are in my handwriting and I, the first, would
swear
to them in any Court.
D.
N. has gone mad. Another piece of news. Wrote two three crazy letters to the
Countess,
finally wrote one in which he calls me a traitor to the Masters, says
“what
Sellin is to Theosophy
—•—
159 D.
N. NEARLY MAD
—•—
that
I am to Occultism,” that “H. P. B. is a dangerous woman,” he won’t trust
me,
and that if I come to him to Elberfeld he “will run away.” Wants the
Countess,
implores her to rush to Elberfeld by the next train—that the “Dweller
on the Threshold” has come—that he is mad, dying,
and will commit suicide etc. etc. The Countess of course rushed to Elberfeld
and here I am once more alone!
And
she telegraphs to me “Arrived safely—Bowajee well!!!!! Now what’s this? The boy
is a fanatic and driven to madness by what he calls the desecration of the Mahatmas.
To save Their names he is ready to do anything—even to
repudiating Them publicly I verily believe. Well, here we are and nothing to be
done. Another calamity, Hartmann is writing my defence! He tells me he was
ordered to defend me and now writes what I enclose. “You are perfectly innocent
of any wilful imposture.” Is he going to make of me an irresponsible medium?
That would be a last stroke to my reputation. What has he said to you? A third
calamity. A letter from Buck,
Yours
sincerely,
J. D. BUCK.
136, W. EIGHTH
STREET,
CINCINNATI, O.,
U.S.
AMERICA.
Now
what do I know! Do you? It is evident there’s some new treachery emanating from
the fair Anna. For mercy sake get information and write him through Mohini if
you do not wish to do so yourself. It is very important.
What
next? Yes Times—I KNEW they would not publish my letter and really it is for
the best. If they did or do, you will see what new vituperation it will
bring.
Outside of the Psychists, Theosophists and Spiritualists, no one will
read
the Report and the Times is universal. However, I have placed myself in
your
hands entirely.
1.
My own sister is three years younger than I am (Mdme. Jelihovsky).
2.
Sister Lisa is by father’s second wife, he married in 1850 I believe a
Baroness
von Lange. She died two years after. Lisa was born I believe in 1852 --
am
not sure, but think I am right. My Mother died when my brother was born 6
months
after in
—•—
160 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
1840
or 1839 -- and this I can’t tell. For mercy sake do not name her—what have the
poor dead to do with all this vile thing called
phenomena and H. P. B.!
3.
Writing in French we Russians sign de before our names if noblemen of the
“Velvet
Book”. In Russian—unless the name is German when they put von—the de is dropped.
We were Mademoiselles de Hahn and von Hahn now—I would not put the de and never
did to my Blavatsky name, though the old man was of a high noble family of the
Ukraine—from the Hetmann Blavatko, becoming later Blavatsky in Russia and in
Poland Count Blavatsky. What more? Father was a Captain of Horse Artillery when
he married my mother. Left service after her death, a Colonel.
Was
in the 6th Brigade and came out a Sous Capitaine already from the Corps des Pages
Imperiaux. Uncle Ivan Aleksievitch von Hahn was Director of the Ports of Russia
in
Yours alone and shivering,
H. P. B.
Love to Mrs. Sinnett and yourself.
LETTER
No. LXIIIA I
See my writing on the
POONA,
3, 4, and 5 lines. 2
29th December, 1885.
MY
DEAR MADAME,
Yours
of the 19th October reached me duly. We are all very glad indeed to hear
that you have found in
1 The letter of Kandhalavala mentioned by H. P.
B. in the previous letter—ED.
2
This sentence is in H. P. B.’s handwriting.—ED.
3 This is apparently a perfect replica of H.
P. B.’s own writing.—ED.
—•—
161 THE OPINION OF
A HINDU —•—
and
yet I believe your friends in India are the better gold for all the fault
that
you may find with them. It is one thing for those to profess implicit
belief
in you who have not to face a dire scandal, and quite a different thing
to
live in the midst of daily calumny and unflinchingly do our duty towards
those
we love without making a fuss or writing about our inner convictions to a
prejudiced
public, particularly when we cannot muster sufficient facts to give
the
lie to a scandal which only the Mahatmas could refute.
You
are scarcely aware what a difficult task we had when the alleged letters
appeared.
Poor Sassoon wavering and ready to side with the public. Ezekiel’s
brother
impatient to rush into print with a lot of matter collected haphazard
from
the conversation they had with you and scarcely knowing whether he was
going
to do you or Sassoon harm. Ezekiel scarcely remembering all the details
and
I knowing nothing as to what actually happened during your two visits. In
spite
of all that, I made the best of the situation and sent two letters signed
by Ezekiel to The Times of India which greatly
restored the peace of mind of our fellows and sympathisers. It was the
If
you want to know the plain truth it is this, that belief in you has not been
altogether
shaken but the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .1
LETTER
No. LXIV
DEAR
MR. SINNETT,
There’s
the copy of Moorad Ali—who died raving mad, of Bishen-lal and other
vain,
weak, and selfish characters—who end at the first temptation as raving
madmen
or commit suicide. The three charges brought by Bowajee are infamous
lies.
What I wrote to the Hindu or some Hindu was that Col. O. did not know
Master
as well as I did; that he had never seen him as I have,
1 The remainder of the letter is missing.—ED.
—•—
162 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
in
body once and the rest of the time in astral or maya shape therefore—etc.
that’s
all. This is now disfigured. Charge (2). Never have I nor poor Col. done
such
an infamy. Bowajee says that what even Hodgson did not dare to say—namely that
I had used Masters’ names for filthy money-matters. I shall write to
Hurrissingjee
and ask him to send me a certificate to the effect.
On
the contrary when he wanted to spend Rs. 10,000 on a shrine, and give some
thousands
to the Society and that stupid Temple of Religions or something, I
told
him in Master’s name not to do it; and I know Mahatma K. H. wrote to him
not
to spend his money on such things; that if he wanted to do anything let him
bring
his son to Adyar. He did not bring him—and the child died. Now this madman knows
it all and yet disfigures facts, has dishonoured O. and me before the Gebhards
far worse than Hodgson ever could. Well, it is all my fault again. I
ought
to have said to you, at least, the truth that he had been repudiated and
sent
away by the Master for something I cannot tell. But, as Master in His
extreme
kindness told me to be kind to him, I was, and loved him as I love
Mohini.
The boy turns to be a wild beast, an unprincipled liar, and if he comes
to
London I will keep no longer silent screening a chela as I have—though a
fallen
chela. 3rd charge. My heart felt it; what, is it the few lines that
Master
wrote on a letter to you? I knew nothing of it and did not want to know
and
this is brought against me as a new charge.
My
dear Mr. Sinnett, the Society is as good as dead. It is he, who psychologised the
Arundales and all in
Leave me to my fate.
Good-bye,
H. P.
B.
—•—
163 COL. OLCOTTS
“TEMPLE OF HUMANITY”
—•—
LETTER
No. LXV
Private.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
When
the first letters had gone to you the Countess who had told me that D. N.
boasted
of having in his possession a document to prove our criminal forgery of
a
letter of Mah. K. H. asking for money and promising to cure a son of
Hurrissingjee,
1 I sat thinking what could be his foundation for such a horrid
lie.
Then the idea flashed upon me that about 3 months ago, when I received a
letter
from Hurrissingjee (the copy of which I now enclose for you to keep
safely
till need comes to use it 2 )-- D. N.
who read all my letters was
furious.
He then raved against Olcott and I was mad too. For it was his fault,
his
eternal American flapdoodle and idiotic plans and schemes for Adyar. This is what
took place: --
You
have perhaps heard, that Hurrissingjee (Thakur of Baunagar’s cousin) took it into
his head to build a shrine for the portraits of the two Masters and meant
to
spend over it 10,000 rupees. He several times asked Master; He would not
answer.
Then he asked Olcott, who bothered Mah. K. H. through Damodar, as I had refused
point blank to put such questions to Masters. Then the Mahatma answered “Let
him talk with the chelas about it I do not care” or something to that effect.
Well Damodar and Chundra Coosho I think and others went to work to make a plan
of the shrine. Even the dirty Coulomb, was called in for his
draughtsman’s
capacities. We were in Europe then. But as soon as we were gone came the Coulomb row. When we returned, Hurrissingjee, to show
that the exposure had no effect on him, wanted to sell a village and build the
shrine quand meme.
The
day after my return Mahatma told me to write to Hurrissingjee that He
expressly
forbid spending such amount of money. That it was useless and foolish.
So
I wrote. Then came the anniversary and Hurrissingjee sent a delegate for
himself
as he was sick. When the superlatively idiotic idea of a Temple of
Humanity
or Universal Brotherhood came into Olcott’s pumpkin, the delegate, when the others
were subscribing, was asked by Olcott and he said (in full convention in the
Pandala before hundreds of people, “I believe His Highness wants to subscribe
Rs. 1,000 --“ I said to Olcott “too much—it’s a
shame”—but he pitched into me for my trouble and as I was then sitting there in
the light of a prisoner in dock—I shut up. Well; Olcott came
1
“Unfortunately he said to the Countess that he had left it at Wurzburg, and
asked
her not to tell me as I would hunt for and destroy it!”
2 see Letter No. LXVa.—ED.
—•—
164 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
one
day and said, “Do ask Master to permit me to have money (generally)
subscribed
for the Temple.” So I sent his temple and himself to a hot place and
said
I would not. Then he went to Damodar, and D.—asked I think, for two or
three
days after I heard through Damodar that the prohibition to Hurrissingjee
of spending money on such flapdoodles had been
removed and that Hurrissingjee had a letter to that effect. I remember as
though it was to day Dj. Khool’s voice laughing and saying “He will catch it
with his temple, the gallant
Colonel.”
Next time D. K. I asked why was the prohibition
removed when the very idea of the temple was stupid, and some people went
against it. He said—“Well you ought to know that when there is a strong desire
on both sides Masters never interfere. They cannot prevent people from hanging
themselves.” I paid no great attention to these words then, I thought they
referred to the foolishness of the “temple.” I understand them now.
Three
or four months ago I received from Hurrissingjee the letter the copy of
which
is enclosed. This is the great document and proof of our joint crime. Mr.
D.
N. said on reading it that Col. Olcott alone desecrated Master’s name by
mixing
them with money matters and I agreed with him. Now he comes out, and says that
I must have precipitated that letter since the Master (he KNOWS it!!) could never
condescend to mix his name with such a disgusting money-matter, “sons” and other
things. Now I ask you what is there of so incriminating in the words of Master
as quoted by Hurrissingjee? He had foolishly attributed the birth of his son to
the Master’s “blessings.” He had bothered Master to permit him to subscribe at
least for a bit of the “
received
these words in answer. “If you so rejoice over the birth of a son—then
you
may, if you choose subscribe, and then one day you may be able to bring to
us
also your son.” What have I to do with this? -- Does Master guarantee his
life
in them? Master ordered him to come to Adyar and bring his newly born son
there
foreseeing that the malaria in Bhownuggar would kill the baby if he
remained.
This was said beforehand. Hurrissingjee never brought his son, never
gave
anything towards the temple (very luckily) -- and wrote me this desperate
and
foolish letter. But now, when according to D. N.’s theory Hurrissingjee was
terribly
mad with us for it—this same mad prince, was at the Anniversary and
subscribed
2,000 rupees toward expenses at Adyar, and see how reverentially he
writes
to me. Well keep this “damaging” document if you please, in case of my
death,
or to confound Mr. D. N. He has made a horrible cruel mischief but I pity
him.
I had no answer yet from him to my threats to expose him. Very likely he
will
—•—
165 THE LETTER
OF HURREESINGHJEE —•—
give
me back “cheek” and impudence. I am prepared for all. I have indeed become a
corpse inside and now come what may.
Yours,
H. P.
B.
Please
do not lose “letter” and keep it, I found it in a drawer where all my
letters
are kept by D. N. and this copy was taken by him at my desire for I sent
the
original to Olcott to blow his American brains with.
Yours
again,
H.
P. B.
LETTER
No. LXVA
VAREL,
31st
July, ‘85.
MY
DEAR AND REVERED MADAME,
We
have to thank you very much for the Samovar which you were kind enough to bring
for us from
Of
course you must have heard through the Hdqrs., about the deaths of Mirzan
Moorad
Ally and our brother Daji Raj, the Thakore Saheb of Wadhinan. We all are sorry
for the latter, as he was too young to die and though perverse at times
was
yet a Theosophist. Our revered Madame, you also know that through the
blessings of Those whom we revere and worship my
wife got a son on the 27th of last November. We all rejoiced at the event but
when Guru Deva K. H. wrote to me the following lines about him—“Since you
rejoice so over the birth of a son of your hopes that is sent to you, you may
on his behalf if you choose subscribe towards a temple of Universal
Brotherhood,” x x and again “One day you may be able to bring to us also your
son”—our joy was really boundless. We imagined he was in his former birth some
great personage and looked upon him with great concern mingled no doubt with
respect. We had no idea that his life was to be so short and would thereby my
wife’s life be rendered more wretched than ever; as before the birth of our son
she was at ease, happy and contented with her lot.
Would
it that he was not sent to us. We who have not attained the heights of
Aparokshagnamam
cannot in this Ashram understand the intricate webs woven by the laws of
inexorable Karma.
Somehow
or other our Branch seems very unlucky in its Presidents. The first died in
insanity, the second by consumption, whilst I myself the third am now
suffering
the loss of an only son.
We,
who are staunchly devoted to Them, had no idea that
—•—
166 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
such
a calamity was in our lot. We thought we all were under Their protection.
He
was sure to die sooner or later. But we feel that we have not yet been fully
worthy
of Their protection. Our Karma!
We
intend building a villa at Headquarters and passing the remainder of our
lives
in the service of the Theos. Society. Of course, we are not going to sell
our
villages at present. In this we follow the advice of our Blessed Master K.
H.
A word from you will be a great consolation to us both as it will afford
soothing
balm to our wounds.
Hoping you are in an
excellent
health,
I remain, Revered Madame
Yours ever
devotedly
(Signed) HURREESINGHJEE ROOPSINGHJEE
(True
Copy) BABAJEE
16/10/85,
Wurzburg.
LETTER
No. LXVI
Secret
and Private.
DEAR
MR. SINNETT,
I
have humbled and brought him down—send you his letter to read and keep for me.
He
knows well that only through my efforts and prayers can he be forgiven by MY MASTER
who will influence and ask Mahatma K. H. to forgive him what he has done four
years ago and what he has done now. He is cured I believe. It cost me a terrible
effort to health, my conscience and a new record on my Karma but I have SAVED
THE SOCIETY. No matter, let me suffer torture and die a slow death—let only the
T.S. be saved and Their names glorified later on, if
not now. The little wretch would commit suicide if I were not to forgive him.
He is really devoted to Masters and in terrible fear of Them
now. And really I believe it was a remnant on him of his grandmother’s sorcery
that comes occasionally upon him.
Poor
fellow. I now pity him, it is so hard to be on probation. The temptations
are
so terrible! But I beg of you to keep his secret—not to let him know that
you
are aware he is not the one that came to you the first time. Not to say one
word
if you would not raise the devil in him once more. Let us keep this letter
of
his as a threat never to be used I hope against the poor boy. You understand
now
why he so avoided you, was in such dread of meeting you. Please call Mohini and
take his word of honour not to let Bowaji know that I sent you his letter. Let
him read it, and ponder over. Too much adulation have spoiled both.
—•—
167 D.
N. A FANATIC
—•—
And
my pitching into both as a contrast between me and the veneration of others
has
made D. N. hate me. But now he repents, I think sincerely, let us drop it,
for
even he may be very useful to the poor Society in its present troubles. But
for
all of you theosophists, it must be a new proof that though the Masters
cannot
interfere with regular Karma, They can and will interfere always at the
last
and supreme danger, and it was the greatest of all—on account of the
personal
influence of the boy as a supposed, personal, accepted, and regular
chela
of the Masters. In this I am not to be blamed. I only carried out the
orders
of silence and had he behaved discreetly he would be by this time a real
regular
chela, though certainly not as much so as the real Dharb. Nath.
Yours ever
H. P. B.
with
a lighter heart.
I
still adhere to my first idea that he must be prevented from coming to London.
LETTER
No. LXVII
Private
and Confidential.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
There’s
news for you enclosed. Please keep it quiet and do not mention it even
to
Mohini. Here is where danger lies, not in what Hodgson or Coulomb can say.
Here’s
a fanatic for you of the blackest dye. You do not know yet those Southern Brahmins.
D. N. is capable of what he threatens at any moment. he
is capable of taking upon himself murder, accuse himself of lying and having
helped to INVENT the Masters, of anything. He is an occult Nero quite capable
of burning
Well,
there it is. I have suspected it for months. The fiend of fanaticism has
possessed
himself of the unfortunate boy and we are all hanging on a thread.
What
a triumph for Hodgson if he carries out his threats! Told you all this many
a
time. Said to you this even at Simla. And remember, things have come to that
point
that THE MASTERS are looking on and will not stir a
—•—
168 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
finger
to prevent the smallest thing. Karma is raging and everyone has to work
the
best he can and knows how. But do not write to the Gebhards or any one I
told
you. Do not for mercy sake, as otherwise you will only precipitate matters.
Leave
the Countess and myself to act upon him soothingly.
Yours
H.
P. B.
LETTER
No. LVIII
DEAR
MR. SINNETT,
Enclosed
two letters—one famous and phenomenally brought by the Countess. To make it short. What Babaji’s little game is:
(1)
To make away with all phenomena.
(2)
To show that the philosophy given out by you through Mah. K. H. is false,
misunderstood,
and that what he (Babaji) preaches now is the only true one.
(3)
Having no other means to discredit the past he throws suspicions on all
phenomena.
Declares that: --
(a)
No letters or notes could have ever been written by Masters.
(b)
That They can never appear as you will find now the Gebhards believing.
(c)
That what the Countess saw was not Master but an Elemental evoked by my
powers—I—a
sorceress.
(d)
That Masters have not blamed him yet—therefore he is right etc. These are
his
chief points. Now—
Last
night as I was answering the Gebhards (see letter opened by the Countess
for you) and was at the end—the Countess sitting on
the arm of the big arm chair and looking over. I had not come to the words
about the phenomenon produced through D. N. Babaji at Torre del Greco before
the Bergens and was thinking, trying to recollect the circumstances well, so
that he could not get rid of the fact that hardly a few months since he was
himself heart and soul in the
phenomena
line. I was doubtful describing the scene, whether the Gebhards so
much
under his influence would believe me. I felt depressed and miserable. When suddenly
the Countess arose and went into the drawing room. A minute after she reenters
and says, “Look here what I have found! Master’s voice told me go there (drawing
room) open third drawer and you will find a letter beginning with ‘My dear
Mohini’ written by Babaji.” It was a letter I had no idea of! A letter which
will prove to the Gebhards that if he (D. N.) regarded the
—•—
169 INSTRUCTIONS TO
SINNETT RE D. N.
—•—
Masters’
letters with such veneration then—then nothing had happened since that any one
should regard Masters’ letters now as “Spook letters”—and that if I am to be
considered a fraud then he must be my accomplice. How glad I was I can hardly
tell you! I copied it for the Gebhards to send the original to you. Keep it,
with care—it is the weightiest proof against D. N.’s changed feelings. He speaks
in it even of Chunder Cushoo—of his receiving direct letters from Master etc.
He says he was made many times by his Master (K. H.) to deliver letters to Olcott—never
yet by my guru.—etc. Then came Master’s voice the words that will be copied for
you by the Countess. He says: No—we do not approve (gave his real name and I
replaced it by that of Babaji). Now, if you will follow a fool’s advice do the
following. When you have read his letter (D. N.’s to Mohini, a friend to whom
he was not likely to say lies, or deceive him, as proof of great weight) --
write to D. N. the following. Say that you know his little game—which is
evident! to overthrow His Master’s philosophy and
doctrines and to set up his Ethics in their place. (Ethics of which he knows
still less!) That you know that he assumed the name of the real Dharb.
Nath.—the latter only willing to go to Simla and he waiting at
He
will not be able to prove that it was he in
as
a Society or remain firm and unshaken. But what is needed is—the threat that
you
knowing his (supposed) imposture at Simla, and his real one at Madras and
elsewhere
are mistaken. Of course we can do nothing here without a scandal for
ourselves—but
in India he would find himself terribly frightened—if he thinks
you
will write about him to authorities in Madras and elsewhere. Frighten him,
and
make the thing easy for him to change and become harmless by adding that you promise
him if he recants his evil lies never to open your mouth about him not even to
the Gebhards. But that if he attempts to come to
now send you that you may even show him and tell
him what I advise you but do not tell I told you, because I do not know whether he spoke with you at
—•—
170 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
he
would repeat it to Babaji. Frighten, poor dear Mohini and make him see the
horror
of Babaji’s charges. Well, do the best you can.
Yours,
H. P.
B.
LETTER
No. LXIX
POST OFFICE TELEGRAPHS.
Handed
in at WURZBURG.
Received Jan. 29.
SINNETT,
7, Ladbroke Gardens Kensington London
Chela
repents swears devotion do not write to him keep silent till letters
explain.
Upasika
LETTER
No. LXX
Please
keep this strictly private.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
My
telegram was fruitless then—so be it. You are on a false track and have
committed
un faux pas. You misunderstood me. He has as much right to call
himself
Dharbagiri Nath, as “Babaji.” There is—a true Dh. Nath, a chela, who is
with
Master K. H. for the last 13 or 14 years; who was at Darjeeling, and he is
he
of whom Mahatma K. H. wrote to you at Simla. For reasons I cannot explain he remained
at
sealed;
of people’s erroneous conceptions about him that he, this present Babaji
was
a HIGH chela whereas he was only a probationary one and now cast off (of
which
he knows nothing yet, as I am told, and ordered to tell you privately and
confidentially,
never to him, as he would either commit suicide, or RUIN THE
SOCIETY
IN HIS REVENGE). Now do not ask me anything more, for if I had to be hung,
publicly whipped, tortured I would not, never would
dare tell you anything more. You speak of “deceptions,” mysteries, and
concealments in which I ought “never to be involved.” Very
easily said by one, who is not under the obligation of any pledge or vow.
I wish you, with your European notions of truthfulness and “code of honour” and
this and that would try for one fort-
—•—
171 THE LAWS
OF OCCULTISM —•—
night.
Now choose: -- either to proclaim the little you do know, and that I was
permitted
to let you know for your own guidance—and thus throw one more shadow of
opprobrium upon the blessed Masters—upon Mahatma K. H. who introduced to you and
recommended His own chela—and will be regarded also as a deceiver, a liar, one
who palmed off upon you a probationer of one year, making you believe he was a
favourite chela of his having lived with him for ten years—or keep it secret, for
people will never understand the whole truth, not even the Spiritualists.
Tell
a Spiritualist—that a Spirit, a “dear departed one” got into some medium
who
thus personated that “departed spirit” his very features assuming for the
time
being the exact likeness of that Spirit—and every Spir.ist will believe and
support
you. Tell them that one living D. N. came to you at Simla, and another
living
D. N. the prototype of the first remained at Darjeeling and still remains
and
lives now even to this day with the Masters—and people will call us all
liars,
deceivers, and humbugs.
Yet
all this would be nothing—in comparison with the new sacrilege—with a loud or
even implied inference that a MAHATMA whoever he may be had acted deceitfully in
the matter. It is that ignorance of Occult transactions that gave such a hold to
Hodgson and Massey and others. It is my obligatory absolute silence that now forces
me to live under the shower of people’s contempt. It is to be or not to be: we
Occultists devoted to Masters have either to put up with Their
laws and orders, or part company with Them and Occultism. I know one thing,
that if it came to the worst and Master’s truthfulness and notions of honour
were to be impeached—then I would go to a desperate expedient. I would proclaim
publicly that I alone was a liar, a forger, all that Hodgson wants me to appear
that I had indeed INVENTED the Masters and thus would by that “myth” of Master
K. H. and M. screen the real K. H. and M. from opprobrium. What saved the
situation in the Report was that the Masters are absolutely denied. Had Hodgson
attempted to throw deception and the idea that They
were helping, or encouraging or even countenancing a deception by Their
silence—I would have already come forward and proclaimed myself before the
whole world all that was said of me and disappeared for ever. This I swear “BY
MASTER’S BLESSING OR CURSE”—I will give a 1000 lives for
Their honour in the people’s minds. I will not see THEM desecrated.Now do as
you please. I asked you by telegraph not to say or write anything to Bowaji.
Now he has a hold on us not we on him by that accusation; for he is cunning
enough to know that whatever you, and the Countess and I know to be the
truth\
—•—
172 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
• the world in general will not believe
it, and that such theosophists
as
the Gebhards for instance would only have to choose between his word and
mine.
And he has so prejudiced them against Olcott and myself and the phenomena and
even your Esoteric Buddhism doctrines, he has so psychologised them into the belief
that I am psychologising the Countess and yourself—that it will be a terrible
work to undo what he has done.
Mohini
is sure to take his defence as a Hindu; and now that he is himself in
trouble
may side with him (Bowaji) though I do not know for certain, it all
depends
upon whether Mohini is guilty or not in the Leonard case. If he is—then
he
is a ruffian and a hypocrite capable of anything. If he is not then he is a
martyr.
You see I am kept entirely in the dark about him, Mohini. What do I know about
him, his real inner life except what the Masters allow me, know and tell me? He
may be the blackest villian and Masters have cast him off as a
probationer
long ago—for what I know. But I do hope he is innocent for I have a great
affection for him more than he knows. I am so lonely, so miserable in my
earthly
human affections that having lost all those I love—through death and the
T.S.
associations (my sister, for one, who writes me a thundering letter calling
me
a renegade a “sacrilegious Julian the Apostate,” and a “Judas” to Christ) I
love
the two boys. Well I feel Mohini is all right morally, but oh God if he
stops
in London long he is lost.
Well,
please a bit of business. I have absolute need of Mohini for S. D. and the
glossary
of Sanskrit words and other things unless he comes, or copies, all such
words
from MSS that I will send to you. I can never be ready by next autumn and this
work is another kind of a “hairpin” than
initiation
given out in the Introductory Chapt. than in all Isis. And what comes
after
is still more interesting. But I am utterly miserable about its mechanical
arrangement.
I have written and rewritten about twenty times this blessed Chapt.
I
have cut off and shifted the paras: and passages and sections and sub-sections
until
I am sick of it. Fancy Masters giving out the secret of the “Divine
Hermaphrodite”
even! and so on.
Please
now keep Bowaji’s secret. I send you his letter of to-day—copies from
yours
to him and his to you. Please compare carefully his original and this
copy,
for I have reasons to believe that he has added something in the copy in
which
I find plenty of his fibs. But never mind—he is right to call the charge
of
the name D. N. being a false one “a fib—“ for it was never meant so. What I
said
and repeat is that he is not the real D. N., the Chela who lived with his
Master
for so many years. Yet he is a
—•—
173 D.
N. A. “CHELA “
—•—
Chela
so long as Masters have not proclaimed publicly and through the
Theosophist
that he has failed—and, he is D. N. this being as he truly says—his
“mystery
name.”
Yours
H. P. B.
I
have a letter from Russia, Moscow, offering me if I leave the Antichrist (!!)
T.S.
one thousand roubles in gold (5,000 francs) monthly and a contract for
several
years to write exclusively for two papers. I wish they may get it.
LETTER
No. LXXI
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
I
told you not to say one word about D. N. I cannot say a little, without saying
all
to the world if you make it public. And if I do, then the L.L. will indeed
be
smashed if even Bowaji and I are smashed with it. Bowaji has a right
according to Hindu custom to assume any “Mystery”
name he chooses—even though there may be another man of the same name. You
alone know a little, or may suspect, having heard it mentioned and rumoured in
silent upon. When (Oh Lord, when!) shall you realise
that our laws and rules are
not
your (European) laws and rules! Now please do as I tell you in this case if
you
would not bring another and a worse scandal upon our heads.
I
have received a letter from Miss Arundale who says that Bowaji is coming as
their
“private guest” on Sunday—today—now, when you are reading this letter. The only
way to save the situation is for you to send for Miss Arundale and give her the
enclosed letter for her and read it with her, and then show her the letter
of the Countess to you, which she says she gave
you permission to (have you not received her letter to this effect?). Let Miss
Arundale, so devoted to the Cause and Masters know all you know under pledge of
secrecy so far. Let her, if the little man is there already, tell him its all
right and let him keep quiet, and
then
watch him and see what he says and does. If he keeps quiet, and does no
harm
why should we harm him? He is a chela, of whatever colour—and it is His
Master’s
look out, not our business to reject and spurn him. For mercy and pity
sake
do not drive me to a desperate act. I do not care any more for my
reputation.
I only care to have Their holy names unsullied in the hearts of the
few Theosophists who know Them, believe in them,
and honour Them, whatever my mistakes and faults and
—•— 174
THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY
—•—
the
treacherous doings of other persons. But to keep them so unsullied, I shall
have
to resort to a desperate act now that the boy will be driven also to
despair
for an act that he has done, indeed, in a fit of madness. You are too
“matter
of fact” my dear Mr. Sinnett, and this is your mistake in all
theosophical
matters. Do consult with Miss A. and do remember that the things of our occult
world are not to be measured by the standards of your world.
In haste,
Yours,
H.
P.
B.
LETTER
No. LXXII
DEAR
MR. SINNETT,
It
is again my fault, my inaccuracy in expressing myself. I ought to have
written
“He assumed the attitude of the real D. Nath. Besides what he was
ordered
to say—a pack of lies (useless as an object); and if the whole truth
were
told, he would be (found) guilty (by the uninitiated world and every
profane)
of false pretences.” And so it would be. I do not make an immaculate
being
of him by far, even from the standpoint of the Occult World I am talking
about,
no more than I am immaculate. But I say that if he had the right to call
himself
Dharb. Nath he had no right to abuse of this position by assuming an
attitude
which only the real Dh. Nath would have the right to assume, and which
he
never would, however. He knows and realises it fully—that’s why I have
subdued
him. And it is just because he is also alive to the fact that “mixed up
with
a European movement, tanglements of this sort are (not only apt, but sure)
to
produce evil—that I could frighten him, and thus save the Esot: doctrine, our
teachings
and the whole from a new scandal and on false charges (in the occult)
and
quite correct ones in the worldly, deceptive light that represents
everything
upside down. The Countess knows all -- (excepting one thing she must not know);
and she says that were even the whole truth to be known I would never be blamed
because I only did my duty to Masters; and that he took advantage of the
position assigned to him temporarily—to harm me and the Cause, and several Theosophists,
who see in him the real, instead of the reflection of Dh. N. the high chela. I
too was made a reflection several times and during months; but I never abused
of it, to try and palm off my personal schemes on those who mistook H. P. B. of
Russia, for the high Initiate of xxx whose telephone she was at times. And this
why the MASTERS have never withdrawn Their confidence
from me, if all others (saving a very few) have. My position is simply
infernal,
—•—
175 THE REASON FOR
SOLOVIOFF’S DEFECTION —•—
HORRID—because
I, as a European born and having been brought up as much as any one else in the
worldly notions of truth and honour—have to put up with the full appearances of
fraud and deception with regard to my best friends—to those I love and honour
most. But such is the result of serving the Occult and having to live in the
profane and public world. Solovioff has turned round against me like a mad
dog—for reasons as mysterious as they can be for me. He pretends that I did
pronounce the words I hear for the first time “Ah le coquin, c’est la seconde
fois qu’il nous joue ce tour la,” etc. when I know that I could have never
pronounced them, that they would be an infernal lie, if I had, for Mohini, to
my knowledge, has never been untrue to his chelaship since he joined the Society—as
to what he did before I care little and it is none of my business. He may have
raped and seduced 20 virgins from
including
his own grandmother. There are no immaculates in our Society, and if
we
took in only such that there would remain in it—void and nihil, instead of
living
members. What I remember to have said to Solovioff—not on that day when I opened
the letter but at some other time, is something I cannot repeat to poor Mohini.
Speaking of the good the Society had done in the name of the Masters I told him
what a profligate, sensualist and drunkard Mohini’s father was, and how he had
now become a regular Yogi. Whether he misunderstood or disfigured this intentionally
I do not know—but if the latter then coupling this with some dirty stories told
of Mohini by Hodgson he must have mixed up all and brought it as an evidence
against him to please Mme. de Morsier. I wish the Paris Society and a half of
the German were smashed. And if it goes on—I will smash them myself, as ordered.
Solovioff is mad with me for his unsuccess of what you know and what I told
you. But I confide and trust in your honour not to repeat it, nor anything I tell you here. Mr. Sinnett—you are my last,
real male friend in Europe. If you were to despise me—I would commit suicide I
think. I have learnt to feel for you that which I thought I never would for an Englishman, or a Russian either. I forgive
Yours ever,
H. P. B.
LETTER
No. LXXIII
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
Your
draft for Times is excellent. I was ready to copy and send it—when suddenly a
horrible idea flashed through my mind. Now, however great the scandal—it does reach
only those
—•—
176 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
interested
in the phenomena. Suppose my letter is printed in The Times (why I
doubt
it I cannot say, but I do). Called in it base and accused of ungentlemanly
behaviour,
all the S.P.R. will pounce upon me and Replies with further slander
and
calumnies will pour upon me in The Times. Everyone will have a word to say.
The
Times are universally read—therefore the new slanders or maintaining of the
old
ones will be given still further publicity. What shall I do then? The Times
will
refuse printing lengthy replies to all and then I will be again worsted and
then
indeed publicly dishonoured. Think of it and telegraph Yes or No; or only
in
the case you do want me still to send it to The Times. My idea was to print
the
Protest and circulate it widely among Theosophists and Spiritualists and
especially
in India to make them feel how unfairly I have been dealt with.
Please
consult about it and reply. My heart turns against The Times as something very dangerous
for me. Who am I, poor unfortunate old
Russian—helpless and defenceless, and see the power they are. It is only you
who can fight them with impunity. I care not for the world’s opinion in
general. But I care a good deal about the opinion of those who know me. This
protest might be even more strongly written, if it goes only in the Theosophist
and is circulated among those who read the Report. Do as you like. You know
best and I put myself entirely into your hands,
Yours ever gratefully,
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
I
think your letter an excellent one, but I tremble at the thought of putting it
in
The Times. In the first place it will circulate the existence of these
slanders
and calumnies all over the world and then will come virulent and bitter
replies.
Massey, Myers and all of them. However you are an Englishman and know the ways
of the world well, so think it all calmly over in your own mind, weigh the
results and then give your answer. Were only the spy business concerned it would
be excellent. But think of the replies, how they will drag in forged letters
etc., how they will call upon her to produce her innocence in a Court of Law—think
it well over and then let us know. Madame leaves herself entirely in your
hands.
Now
about her Memoirs, three things should certainly be omitted in them, first
the
adopted child as there are many who can bring unpleasant family secrets to
light
on that point – again
I This communication
in the handwriting of Countess W. has been added to H. P. B.’s letter.—ED.
—•—
177 MEDICAL EVIDENCE
ON H. P. B. —•—
Madame’s
travelling about so much in men’s clothes. Is there not a law in
England
to punish women who do such things. At any rate it would shock English prudery—lastly
no mention of the Mahatmas, their names have been
already sufficiently desecrated. Let us keep them sacred for the future. The
doctor has given me to understand that Madame is still a virgin.
Yrs. truly,
C. W.
LETTER
No. LXXIV
Private.
I
enclose the medical certificate of Prof. Oppenheimer who made a minute and
exact
examination “since my illness finds itself complicated now by some
congenital
crookedness of the uterus as he says—having it appears something to
do
with child-bearing (the uterus in general not mine or its crookedness) and
which (though I had always had a dim conception that
“uterus” was the same thing as “bladder”) -- which crookedness kills at once
the missionaries and their
hopes
of proving me the mother of three or more children. He had written a long
and
complicated statement of the reason why I could never have not only
children,
but anything in the shape of an extra since unless an operation is now
made—they
can’t get at that blessed uterus to cure it. I thanked and declined.
Better
die than have an operation made. But knowing this (certificate) shall
have
probably to be read in my defence—I did not permit him to go into
physiological
particulars and asked him simply to certify the fact that I never
had
any child or children, nor could I have them.
What next shall people say?
Yours dishonoured in my old
age
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
Franz
Gebhard and Hubbe Schleiden translated the certificate for you. The Dr.
(Oppenheimer)
says that Gynaecological “illness” means “woman’s functions” and shows
intactness (as Mme. Noury of Stead’s trial has it) Hubbe Schleiden
explaining
to me blushingly that “it is a delicate and scientific way of putting
it,
and very clear.” Don’t show this to anyone—I write it to you as a trusted
friend—its real SHAME to speak of it—though I am
decided that my friends and defenders should know it. Keep the certificate.
—•—
178 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
LETTER
No. LXXV
Jan.
29, 1886.
DEAR
MR. SINNETT,
Enclosed
find the results of karma for defending an innocent though foolish man, and—for
writing private and confidential letters to a woman of hysterical
temperament.
Please
tell me what I have to do? Countess says that I have either to go to
London
and appear; or that Germany will give me up to England; or that I will be
made
to pay £100 for default or perhaps be hung by the neck till I die passing
through
a preliminary torture somewhere.
It
thus appears that a person who denies that another person was maliciously
seduced—is
liable or amenable to law in England. Writing private and
confidential
when the person “libelled” is not even named—constitutes a LIBEL?
Is
it so? Then all I can say is, that I would prefer living under Chinese and
even
Russian laws. Please let me know at once what I am to do. You have my
statement
addressed to your Council to investigate Mohini’s Don Juanic crime.
The
blows of karma are coming so quick in succession so rapid and unexpected
that
it reacted on my nerves—or our nerves rather—and that the Countess and I
are
sitting looking at each other and feel convulsed with laughter.
No
answer from Bowaji; gloomy—uninterrupted silence. Poor Gebhards, they seem entirely
in his hands. The karma of the Countess who insisted to send
him to Elberfeld.
Well—keep
courage and go on. If we remain ten persons in the Society united
strongly—it
cannot die and my Secret Doctrine is there. Only beware of Bowaji
who
is a complete lunatic at present.
Yours, at the foot of a karmic Vesuvius covering
me with uninterrupted eruptions of mud.
H.
P. BLAVATSKY.
Please
answer these questions
(1) Can they force me to go to
London.
(2) Can they call me into a Court
of Law for supposed libel? And if
so can they compel the German Govt. to give me up
if I refuse—what is the fine? if there is one. Please
consult a lawyer and I will pay, it’s only a trifle.
—•—
179 H. P. B. LKE
A BOAR AT
BAY —•—
LETTER
No. LXXVI
MY
DEAR MR. SINNETT,
As
you are about the only man I now know of incapable of betraying the
sacredness
of a private letter by sending it over to an enemy—even to save your
life—I
write to tell you two things.
(1)
Mohini sent such private letter of mine to Mme. de Morsier; the one I wrote
to
him last week with the news that had just reached me that Solovioff had
stepped out as a witness against me in the
Mohini business with L.—to show that I knew his supposed crime (for it is a
crime if it has happened) all the time
and
endeavoured to cover it, i.e. to play a vile part of hypocrisy, sham and
Pecksniffism.
Mme. de M. showed it immediately to Solovioff. Result: a
thundering,
threatening, sickening letter from Solovioff in which all the
thunder
and lightning individual and collective as from Russia are gathered
together
and thrown at me. I will write no more to Mohini—nor to any one either
since
today.
(2)
You better give up the “Madame Blavatsky” Memoirs. If they come out now—you will
have all
I
have not decided yet what I will do. But do something I will. Please tell the
part
concerning him to Mohini but withhold the rest. I confide this to your
honour.
Did you ever picture to yourself an innocent, harmless boar who asked
only
to be left to live quietly in his forest, who had never hurt a man, and
against
whom a pack of hounds is let loose to get him out of that wood and tear
him
to pieces? For some time, of course, as long as he can and that there is
hope
for him to save his forest from desecration and himself as the guardian
thereof.
But when to those barking, howling, ferocious hounds, animals, hitherto
friendly
to the boar join themselves and pursue him for his life-blood then the
boar
comes to a dead stop and faces his enemies, ex-friends and all. And woe to the latter. The boar is sure to be murdered,
overwhelmed by the number but there will be hundreds of dogs disemboweled and
killed in the last and supreme smash.
This
is an allegory true to life. Make of it what you like.
—•—
180 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
I
learn that Hodgson comes out as a witness of Mlle. L. against Mohini to the
effect
that he (Mohini) had another such seduction and love business, in India.
Mr.
S. has probably put my exclamation upon reading that first Mohini letter,
“Its
the second time such a thing (of chela seduction) happens in the Society”
and putting the Hodgson evidence and gossip about
Mohini—which he says is known to all in
(meaning
MASTERS) will not save me from utter ruin. He speaks of Baron
Meyendorff—of
Blavatsky, and the reputation made for me by friends in
H. P. B.
Two
words in PRIVATE. The Duchess is not such a friend of Mrs. K. and M. as you think.
She has unbosomed herself to Olcott and me. She is their victim rather.
She
has paid for publishing their P. Way given them her ideas, and they never so
much
as thanked her or acknowledged it. They are ungrateful. Now she is our, not their
friend. But she seems in awe of the divine Anna. One thing funny though. She
tells me that though vegetarians they both drink wine at their meals—claret and
liqueur fines—and James the butler adds even and told to the Duchess at dinner
before us, that Mrs. K. “is very fond of champagne “!!! Now why does she then
denounce you to K. H. as a wine bibber? Now I want to know whether Mrs. K. makes
a secret of it, or does (drink wine) openly? It is
very important I should know it. Olcott will tell you this. Goodbye—Love to
dear Mrs. Sinnett. I wish I could see you but—impossible.
H. P. B.
P.S.
With regard to Memoirs. May be what Solovioff tells me of old Blavatsky
“whom you (I) have prematurely buried”—is a wicked fib of
his, thinking the news would overwhelm me, and perhaps it is not. I never had
an official notification of his death, only what I learned through my Aunt at
“His
country seat ruined” he “himself had left years ago” and news had come “he was
dead.” I never bothered my brains about the old man: he never was anything to
me, not even a legitimate, though hated husband. Yet if it turned out to be truth
-- (his father died when 108 and my own grandmother at nearly 112) and we talking
all the while of him as though he were
—•—
181 BOWAJI’S DECEPTION
—•—
in
Devachan or Avitchi—it would bring no end of trouble. If you think that the
Memoirs
would do good—then do so, only under your own
responsibility and over your own name and giving only that which is printed in
Russian. On either my Aunt or Sister do not rely. They will not hear of further
“desecrations of the
family
secrets” as they call them. My Aunt may, perhaps, send two or three
things.
My sister is infatuated with Solovioff who set her against me and the
society and poor Mohini—and now she writes to me
letters in Mad. de Maintenon’s style—bigoted and as cold and haughty as ice on
My
Aunt says that she gave away that portrait and has it no more. I leave thus
the
publishing of the Memoirs with you, but I really think it is dangerous now.
Delay
the publication for a few months. Do not give it up, but do delay, for I
feel
there will come some insulting letters in the papers to add to them so and
so,
some dirty scandal as to my supposed three children etc. and what can or
shall
I do then? My position is a helpless one. There is not in the whole world
a
woman situated more miserably than I am. I am absolutely helpless.
Our
Occult friend, the author of the immortal Kiddle flapdoodle, and of the
premature
note from Master who wrote with his inner self in the future (for Him
the
present), and it came out five minutes too soon at Schmiechen’s—thinks you will
appreciate better Bowaji’s position by an illustration of his. There’s a
bootmaker
at Torre del Greco named Jesus with the name on his sign board. Now he says no
one can call him an “impostor” for calling himself Jesus; but if he allowed
people to believe that he was Jesus Christ, and acted in this wise then
he
would be one unless he undeceived his public. Bowaji acts or acted as though he
were the REAL chela, and this is where the deception
begins. An ambassador representing his sovereign during the middle
ages had every right and it was his duty to get married as a proxy for
his King, and he had a right and it was his duty to shove his right leg into
the bride’s bed in great ceremony and before a select court. But if that
Ambassador went further and made a child to the Queen in his Master’s name—then
he would find himself in a somewhat worse position than even our Mohini.
Sarma
is a great friend of the Countess and says he is proud to call himself
one.
He talks for any length of time with her alone, and then will come
sometimes
and talk to us both; so that she and I hear him and see him at the
same
time. I care little for him but the Countess seems very fond of him—so much the
better for Mr. Sarma. I send you Olcott’s letter and his suggestions. He seems
very cool about the bare possibility of “an Eurasian”
as a memorial of
Mohini’s
visit to London. It appears
—•—
182 THE LETTERS OF H. P.
BLAVATSKY —•—
I
have just been honoured with an election as a C.S.y for life. Very kind of
them,
at Adyar. Is Mrs. Sinnett angry with me that she has ceased suddenly
writing?
Do tell. Is the “copy” in London or still at Elberfeld? Please let me
know
and do “know, dare and keep silent.”
Cardiff Blavatsky Archive
Theosophical Society, Cardiff Lodge, 206 Newport Road,
Cardiff CF24 – 1DL