The Letters of H. P. Blavatsky to A. P. Sinnett
Theosophical University Press Online Edition

Letter No. 50

LUD. ST. 6,
WURZBURG,
Oct. 9th.

MY DEAREST MRS. SINNETT,

First of all — thousand thanks to your tyrant for his four books — and 10 thousand thanks for the stamps. It will please old aunt. The bright side of life being disposed of, and Providence in your two stately shapes duly thanked, I have to return to the dark side of my life. In this direction "abundance of wealth" 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 he was offered membership — or is it only another fib? Try to know if possible. Now —

STRICTLY PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL only for you two.

I have ascertained most positively that D. N. has nothing personal against you. He feels the greatest affection and respect for both of you and gratitude to Mr. Sinnett. He had heard from some one in Paris whom he won't name but whom I suspect, that Mr. Sinnett had said while in Paris that all the Hindus at Hd. Qtr. were liars; and that made him desperate, for he then thought that every word he said to Mr. Sinnett would be regarded as a lie. Now I feel sure Mr. Sinnett said nothing of the kind and if he has, he did not mean to include in that category our friend D. N. He is fearfully sensitive, quite in an abnormal, unhealthy way. He who was so frank, merry, good natured, has become gloomy, secretive, so easily irritated for the smallest thing, that one is afraid to talk to him, especially before other people. I have learned so much at least now from him — that his return to his Master depends upon the restoration of the T.S.'s previous status: unless the Society begins again to run smoothly, at least in appearance, he has to remain exiled -- as he says — for it appears that his Master — Mahatma K. H. holds him, Damodar, and Subba Row responsible for the two thirds of Mr. Hodgson's "mayas" — he says. It is they, who, irritated and insulted at his appearance at Adyar, regarding his (Hodgson's) cross-examination and talk about the Masters — degrading to themselves and blasphemous with regard to Masters; instead of being frank with H. and telling him openly that there were many things they could not tell him — went on to work to augment his perplexity, allowed him to suggest things without contradicting them, and threw him out of the saddle altogether. You see, Hodgson counted without his host: he had no idea of the character of the true Hindu — especially of a chela — of his ferocious veneration for things sacred, of his reserve and exclusiveness in religious matters; and they (our Hindus) whom even I had never heard pronounce or mention one of the Masters by name — were goaded into fury in hearing Hodgson make so cheap of those names — speaking laughingly of "K. H." and "M." — etc. with the Oakleys. And it is unfortunate me who now pays for all!

There is another thing, and this is absolutely ghastly. D. N. showed me an order from his Master, written in Telugu, to go with Miss A. and Mohini to Paris and London and try to save the Society from another scandal ten times worse than the present one. He has saved the situation and all glory to him, poor boy! but he has made himself fearful enemies at Paris, oh, for the horror, the sickening disgusting horror of the whole thing. Speak of the inner Circle, of the Oriental Group! The "Roman" group it ought to be called, with all those Messalines in it! My dear, dear friend, I cannot trust to paper names, it is too disgusting. But if you have ever murmured in the bottom of your heart and the solitude of your own room, at the injustice done (I have — I am sure!); at so many efforts remaining unnoticed and unhelped; at the sight of so many devoted theosophists ready to sacrifice their lives as they said, for the Cause and Masters -- neglected, unnoticed by the latter — then do so no more! If Sodom was justly punished, then so would the Oriental Group be — if Masters were men to punish instead of allowing things to go on naturally and break down under their own weight — and you and Mr. Sinnett would be the only Loth and his wife saved — I verily believe. So do not risk to be changed into a pillar of salt, as Mrs. Loth — do not ask me more than I can say — but watch and see for yourself. I have been already punished for my curiosity and for forcing poor little D. N. to tell me the truth — my heart has changed into a pillar of ice cold marble — with horror. I wish I had never heard what I have. But know one thing: the Anglo-French messaline who, inveigling Mohini into the Barbyan wood, suddenly, and seeing that her overtures in words were left without effect — slipped down her loose garment to the waist leaving her entirely nude before the boy — is not the worse one in the Oriental group. Of all those pure "Vestals" she is only the most frankly dissolute, but not either the most lustful or sinful. She had no sacred duty entrusted to her to fulfil. She must be a cocotte by nature and temperament — she is neither hypocritical, nor does she aim at public saintliness. 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 Limburg cheese with worms in it to tickle their 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 — one of them is X----- Y-----; the two others I can never, shall not name. The golden haired amanuensis of —-— went so far as to write in a trance an "order" from some unknown great adept "Lorenzo," ordering Mohini in cunningly couched expressions to make of "X . . . ." his alter ego, his own body to do with her body as he pleased -- but that such a union was absolutely necessary for the development of both, the psychical having to be helped by the physiological and vice versa. Mohini did "as he pleased." He tore the epistle like a fool, but luckily D. N. found the bits and has them. One of these days one or the other of the London Potiphars shall turn round in her fury and act like Mrs. Potiphar of the Pharaohs, shall father her own iniquities upon Mohini and — ruin the Society and his reputation. D. N. got from him all these epistles to keep; and added to what he got personally — it makes a nice collection. And to believe, with such a state of things, that Masters shall approach the Oriental group at even a 100 miles off!

But what shall you think of a woman who, realising the impossibility that Mohini should ever accept her in such a light, knowing he is pure and is determined to preserve his "chela-purity" and chastity, that in short she can never hope to become the means of his down fall at first hand; who in order to facilitate for herself the thing, and willing even, in her first ferocious passion for him, to accept the rests of another -- favorises and helps that other (B-----) to seduce Mohini!! All this in the confession No. 2 (for there are two, from two parties — and now say Master does not help!). This hapless woman suffers fearfully. She, at least, as I fervently hope, gave up the idea altogether, and feels a horror for herself. But repentance cannot obliterate the action. And oh Lord — even "daggers" and "killing," such like threats are brought into play! The last epistle of B----- sent to Babajee D. N. is an apocalyptic vision on 8 pages of foolscap — in which Masters name is blasphemously used and words put in His mouth — Babula would feel ashamed of. She sees herself in that vision killing Mohini with a dagger bought "Passage Jouffroi." — Now what shall we do!

"I guess" you understand now why poor D. N.'s "moral tone" was falling down, and his "sympathy" in high demand at London. The little fellow is a brick. He used no sweet manners, no equivocations, to tell the "fiery" ladies the four truths. He showed them all his great scorn and contempt for them, frightened them with his Masters indignation to death; called all the Tibetan thunders and lightning upon their immoral heads, promised them for their next incarnation that they would be buried alive up to the throat in the frozen earth and that the vultures would peck their eyes out and peck their heads to death for daring to seduce a chela. "Never shall I forget," writes one of them —"your just and holy anger — but, oh — pity, pity me, poor weak woman! And ask your friend (Mohini) not to be so hard for me!" — Oh, Dyhan Chohans and devas of purity, veil your sad faces and save the hapless T. Society! Where are we going to, at this rate?

For mercy sake keep all this, you and Mr. Sinnett in the most inaccessible recesses of your hearts. For the sake of the Cause, spat upon, trampled under the feet — be silent but watch as keenly as you can do, lest something else should turn up. One of those four Messalines would be sufficient to kill the Cause for ever. And Adyar! See how those Theosophists love each other! Now Leadbeater is accused of having turned from a thoroughly good man into a bad Anglo-Indian, under the influence of Cooper Oakley! He is accused of saying bad things of me, and what not!

Good-bye. Dark is the horizon and not one light spot do I see in those thick black clouds. Hubbe Schleiden is sorry he came too late; he wanted to see you and explain the situation. Dr. H., intrigues fearfully, sets everyone against him, laughs and shows him unfit to be a President; trying to be elected President himself, etc. All as it should be.

Yours for ever and seriously in profound gloomy despair,
H. P. BLAVATSKY.

Approximately true copy of one 8th of the whole truth.

M.


Letter 51

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