The Path – February 1896


1885 TO 1886.



MY DEAR DOCTOR: — Two words in answer to what the Countess told me. I do myself harm, you say, "in telling everyone that Damodar is in Tibet, when he is only at Benares." You are mistaken. He left Benares toward the middle of May, (ask in Adyar; I cannot say for certain whether it was in May or April) and went off, as everybody knows, to Darjeeling, and thence to the frontier via Sikkhim. Our Dar-jeeling Fellows accompanied him a good way. He wrote a last word from there to the office bidding good-bye and saying: "If I am not back by July 21st you may count me as dead." He did not come back, and Olcott was in great grief and wrote to me about two months ago, to ask me whether I knew anything. News had come by some Tibetan pedlars in Darjeeling that a young man of that description, with very long flowing hair, had been found frozen in the (forget the name) pass, stark dead, with twelve rupees in his pockets and his things and hat a few yards off. Olcott was in despair, but Maji told him (and he, D., lived with Maji for some time at Benares,) that he was not dead- — she knew it through pilgrims who had returned, though Olcott supposes — which may be also — that she knew it clairvoyantly. Well I know that he is alive, and am almost certain that he is in Tibet — as I am certain also that he will not come back — not for years, at any rate. Who told you he was at Benares? We want him sorely now to refute all Hodgson's guesses and inferences that I simply call lies, as much as my "spy" business and forging — the blackguard: now mind, I do not give myself out as infallible in this case. But I do know what he told me before going away — and at that moment he would not have said a fib, when he wept like a Magdalen. He said, "I go for your sake. If the Maha Chohan is satisfied with my services and my devotion, He may permit me to vindicate you by proving that Masters do exist. If I fail no one shall ever see me for years to come, but I will send messages. But I am determined in the meanwhile to make people give up searching for me. I want them to believe I am dead."

This is why I think he must have arranged some trick to spread reports of his death by freezing.

But if the poor boy had indeed met with such an accident — why I think I would commit suicide; for it is out of pure devotion for me that he went. (1) I would never forgive myself for this, for letting him go. That's the truth and only the truth. Don't be harsh, Doctor — forgive him his faults and mistakes, willing and unwilling.

The poor boy, whether dead or alive, has no happy times now, since he is on probation and this is terrible. I wish you would write to someone at Calcutta to enquire from Darjeeling whether it is so or not. Sinnett will write to you, I think. I wish you would.

Yours ever gratefully,
H. P. B.



MY DEAR DOCTOR: — I read your part II — and I found it excellent, except two or three words you ought to change if you care for truth, and not to let people think you have some animus yet against Olcott. (2) Such are at the end "Presidential orders" and too much assurance about "fictions." I never had "fictions," nor are Masters (as living men) any more a fiction than you and I. But this will do. Thus, I have nothing whatever against your theory, though you do make of me a sort of a tricking medium.

But this does not matter, since as I wrote to Dr. H.S. and will write to all — "Mme. Blavatsky of the T.S. is dead." I belong no more to the European Society, nor do I regret it. You, as a psychologist and a man of acute perception, must know that there are situations in this life, when mental agony, despair, disgust, outraged pride and honor, and suffering, become so intense that there are but two possible results — either death from broken heart, or ice-cold indifference and callousness. Being made to live for purposes I do not know myself — I have arrived at the latter state. The basest ingratitude from one I have loved as my own son, one whom I have shielded and protected from harm, whom I have glorified at the expense of truth and my own dignity, has thrown upon me that straw which breaks the camel's back.' It is broken for the T. S. and for ever. For two or three true friends that remain I will write the S.D., and then — depart for some quiet corner to die there. You have come to the conviction that the "Masters" are "planetary spirits" — that's good; remain in that conviction.

I wish I could hallucinate myself to the same degree. I would feel happier, and throw off from the heart the heavy load, that I have desecrated their names and Occultism by giving out its mysteries and secrets to those unworthy of either. If I could see you for a few hours, if I could talk to you; I may open your eyes, perhaps, to some truths you have never suspected. I could show you who it was (and give you proofs), who set Olcott against you, who ruined your reputation, and aroused the Hindu Fellows against you, who made me hate and despise you, till the voice of one who is the voice of God to me pronounced those words that made me change my opinion. (3)

I could discover and unveil to you secrets for your future safety and guidance. But I must see you personally for all this, and you have to see the Countess. Otherwise I cannot write. If you can come here, even for a few hours, to say good-bye to me and hear a strange tale, that will prove of benefit to many a Fellow in the future as to yourself, do so. If you cannot, I ask you on your honor to keep this private and confidential.

Ah, Doctor, Karma is a fearful thing; and the more one lives in his inner life, outside this world and in regions of pure spirituality and psychology, the less he knows human hearts. I proclaim myself in the face of all — the biggest, the most miserable, the stupidest and dullest of all women on the face of the earth. I have been true to all. I have tried to do good to all. I have sacrificed myself for all and a whole nation — and I am and feel as though caught in a circle of flaming coals, surrounded on all sides like an unfortunate fly with torn-off wings — by treachery, hatred, malice, cruelty, lies; by all the iniquities of human nature, and I can see wherever I turn — but one thing — a big, stupid, trusting fool — "H.P.B." — surrounded by a thick crowd circling her (4) of traitors, fiends and tigers in human shape.

Good-bye, if I do not see you, for I will write no more. Thanks for what you have done for me. Thanks, and may you and your dear, kind sister be happy.

H. P. B.

(To be continued)


1. The fact is that Damodar was never asked to go to Tibet, but begged to be permitted to go there, and at last went with permission o H.P.B., on which occasion I accompanied him to the steamer. — H. (return to text)

2. This refers to my Report of Observations at the Headquarters at Adyar. (return to text)

3. Babajee, whose Brahmanical conceit caused him to turn against H.P.B. when he be came convinced that he could not make her a tool for the propaganda of his creed. — H. (return to text)

4. This explains the letter printed in the notorious book of V. S. Solovyoff, page 124. The intrigue was acted by Babajee, who, while professing great friendship for me, acted; as a traitor and spy. — H. (return to text)

The Path