The Letters of H. P. Blavatsky to A. P. Sinnett

Letter No. 99

My dearest Mrs. Sinnett,

It is refreshing to remark how one is understood and appreciated even by one's best friends in this world of joy and bliss, for ever. My dearest friend how can you believe me such an infernal fool as to fall victim to Mrs. K. and Maitland's snares! Do you suppose seriously that had you not even put "private and confidential" at the top of your letter I would have shown it or any other letter from yourself or Mr. S. to her or her alter ego This is allowing suspicion of my being an incurable idiot going really too far. She or he my "friends"! Two months ago I received a long letter from her thanking me for some kind expressions about her to the Duchess — of which I did not remember a traitor word; and asking me permission to come in October and see me on her way to Paris, when, perhaps, I may be allowed to put her in communication with "one of the Masters." To this I replied that I would be "most happy to see her" — did not notice her reference to the Masters, not with a single comma, and hoped having so replied that she would go to Paris via another road. But four or five days ago I was startled from my "cycles" and Kalpas by Louisa bringing in two cards. Of course there were kisses, and soft words from Maitland etc. Of course I offered them two rooms upstairs and they came, and — of course I have not opened my mouth about the Master to her, with reference to herself and her desire; for it was the Countess who did it for me, and in such a way that no mention of the Masters or the slightest allusion to Them was ever made by her to me. She was sick the very first 24 hours and had a trance chlorophormised, then became all right, Maitland took me into his confidence with all kind of weird experiences of his own and I listened and agreed to all he said. To her great praise of Mohini I gave her his Manifesto to read to show how devoted he was to the Society and how grateful to Olcott — but she never saw my answer. We did not speak about reforms, nor did she suggest any, except the flapdoodle I wrote you about. The idea about the groups is MINE and the Countess thinks it is the best, and we said casually a few words about it, but had no councils, no earnest conversations about it. I never remained two minutes alone with her, not even one second. The Countess was always there. I gave them all the comforts I could but would as soon open my heart to them as kiss on both checks Myers or Hodgson. If she corresponds with Babajee — let her do so! she must have time to lose. But she told [me] she thought him a fool and crazy, and that every time she saw him she could not help feeling as though she expected every moment to see him "running up the curtain" — the most graphic thing I heard for a long time. After remaining three days with us, they departed, and we parted seemingly enchanted with each other's fuller acquaintance. That's all.

Of course I do not mean Olcott to issue that Eulogy in prose of him by myself, but I do want him and Council to see Mohini's MSS. for this will unmask him before them. I love Mohini and cannot help it; but I blame him and want to paralyse his conceit and make it harmless with those who may be too inclined to see in him a Mahatma en herbes. So please send back his MSS. to me, for I want the autograph. Now you may print both in the way you like and do the best you can out of the two. But I want Olcott to see that while he snubs me and swears the Society will never more dangle after my tail-skirts — that I defend him. Just as I was writing it there come letters from India to show that they all believed I abused the "Founder" and wanted to set up another Society, and Olcott wrote he "would fight me to death" if I did. O Truth and Justice! Well, print and publish it then and send me back the MSS.

Yours ever truly and sincere,
H. P. Blavatsky.



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