H P Blavatsky
THE LETTERS OF
H P BLAVATSKY
A. P. SINNETT
and other miscellaneous letters transcribed, compiled,
with an introduction
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
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
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.
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
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.
H. P. B.
LETTER No. XLII
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
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
—•— 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
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,
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
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
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
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.
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
—•— 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,
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,
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.
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
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
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
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
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. —•—
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
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
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
—•— 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,
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,
—•— 118 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
LETTER No. XLVIII
6, LUDWIG STRASSE,
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.
H. P. B.
LETTER No. XLIX
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 and by morphine and digitalis, hook and crook, the terrible
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,
H. P. B.
—•— 121 DR. F. HARTMANN —•—
LETTER No. L
LUD. ST. 6,
MY DEAREST MRS. SINNETT,
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
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.
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!
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
—•— 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.
LETTER No. LI
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 —•—
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
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.
H P. B.
LETTER No. LIII
6 LUDWIG STRASSE,
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.
Yours ever faulty,
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
LETTER No. LIV
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
—•— 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
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
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
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
(1) I do not want to sell for a consideration any occult work; S. D. least of
(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
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
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.
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,
(6) Mohini, Bowajee, Bawani Row, Damodar, etc. etc., are all liars and
(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.
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.
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
(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
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
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.
(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
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.
—•— 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!!
H. P. BLAVATSKY.
I made Subba Row’s acquaintance on the day I first arrived to
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
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 —•—
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.
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
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.
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
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,
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.
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
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
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.
do not speak of Mentana and do not speak of MASTER I implore you. I did come
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.
Countess Kisseleff? Thanks. She is dead as a door nail for over 20 years I
believe. Died at
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
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
—•— 156 THE LETTERS OF H. P. BLAVATSKY —•—
Pskoff, who will testify to the phenomena they have seen between 1860 and ‘62.
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
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.
(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
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
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!
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,
J. D. BUCK.
136, W. EIGHTH STREET,
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.
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
Yours alone and shivering,
H. P. B.
Love to Mrs. Sinnett and yourself.
LETTER No. LXIIIA I
See my writing on the
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.
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.
H. P. B.
—•— 163 COL. OLCOTTS “TEMPLE OF HUMANITY” —•—
LETTER No. LXV
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
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
—•— 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.
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.
H. P. B.
LETTER No. LXVA
31st July, ‘85.
MY DEAR AND REVERED MADAME,
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
I remain, Revered Madame
Yours ever devotedly
(Signed) HURREESINGHJEE ROOPSINGHJEE
(True Copy) BABAJEE
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.
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.
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
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.
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
(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. —•—
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
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,
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.
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
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
of whom Mahatma K. H. wrote to you at Simla. For reasons I cannot explain he remained
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
—•— 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
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
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.
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 to 80 years respectively,
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
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
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.
LETTER No. LXXIV
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
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
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
You better give up the “Madame Blavatsky” Memoirs. If they come out now—you will
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
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.”