BLAVATSKY DESCRIBED BY LAURA HOLLOWAY

 

(Laura Holloway was an American theosophist and in this article she recalls the first encounters she had with Blavatsky.)

 

 

MADAME BLAVATSKY, A PEN PICTURE

 

By an American newspaper writer.

 

As soon as the arrival of Madame Blavatsky in England was announced, I felt my opportunity had come for seeing this widely celebrated woman who was credited with possessing occult powers, and who was said to be in direct communication with not only the "Adepts," but with "Maha-Chohan," the Head of the Himalayan Initiates, the greatest of living souls.

 

Armed with a letter of introduction given me by an American friend, I sought her out only to learn that she had gone to Paris and, it was in Paris, that I subsequently met her. I found her smoking cigarettes, and, months later, when I took leave of her in· London before starting for New York, she was again smoking. During that time, whenever I saw her she was smoking. And, as I had never seen a woman smoke before, her habit made a deep impression upon me. I may add that it impressed me painfully at first, but I grew tolerant of it later, believing it to be a manifestation of diseased nerves, as was subsequently proved.

 

In Paris, Madame Blavatsky lived in an apartment in Rue Notre Dames des Champs, and here each evening was gathered together a strangely assorted company. The first time I called I approached her through a crowd of French and German gentlemen, accompanied by a friend. She gave me her hand and after saying she was glad I had come, asked me to be seated beside her. For a short time we chatted on various ordinary topics, then she inquired of people she had known in New York, and, finally as guests pressed about her, she told one of her party to watch over me until she was at liberty again.

 

I stood near her for a time listening to her conversation with others, and she impressed me as clever and vivacious, occasionally charming, but of a very changeable nature, and not quite at peace with herself. In many respects she seemed unique, and thinking I was alone and unnoticed in the crowd, I satisfied myself regarding her characteristics in a leisurely way, noting her voice, her tricks of speech, her motions, and her manner of greeting people. The crowd increased and after a time I came to the conclusion that I would make my departure. As I turned to go towards the door she greatly surprised me by calling out: "Now that you have summed me up to your satisfaction, will you please talk with your countryman, Mr. ____, until I can see you.

 

I laughingly turned away with this gentleman-who had steeped to my side, so soon as he had heard the remark she made, and as I did so I said: "Queer woman that; how did she know what I was thinking of?"

 

"She is the most remarkable woman this age has produced," he answered in earnest tones, and then he added: "This may not be the verdict of the world, but those who know her subscribe to it."

 

"Is that true?" I answered, "! have heard it declared that she is not a very satisfactory expounder of the philosophy she teaches."

 

He quickly replied: "But who is there who can judge her; who is there who has tried to do what she has already accomplished?"

 

I could not combat this and suggested that he tell me more of her life, and her present line of work. This he did, talking most entertainingly for some time.

 

Through all the evening Madame Blavatsky smoked cigarettes. Luckily she used a very mild Egyptian tobacco, and the odor of her continuous cigarette was not offensive. Had it been so, her anti-tobacco friends would have suffered martyrdom. Her beautiful hands were stained with the weed, and ashes were on her dress and scattered over the carpet about her. I saw her many times, but never without her tobacco and cigarette paper and matches.

 

Strangers meeting her for the first time, felt as I had done, and were shocked with this habit of hers — but her daily companions were glad to have her smoke. She was always entertaining when smoking. and was certain to be irritable when deprived of her precious cigarette. Smoking with her was a habit that had become second nature; she could not live without tobacco.

 

To know her at all was to know her through clouds of tobacco smoke; to listen to her wonderful flow of conversation was to hear it in the intervals of silence when she was dreamily, and gently puffing her cigarette. To nothing else was she half so devoted as to her cigarette and she was a fascinating smoker. So keen was her enjoyment of this occupation that others were entertained in watching her indulgence in it and her easy, restful manner of smoking soothed even those who were opposed to tobacco. Her temperament was one that required a narcotic; her nature was so tempestuous that without it no ordinary person could have endured her excitability for a day.

 

She was a volcano in petticoats; a woman, but masculine in her mental attributes. Yet she was the reverse of "mannishness." She was something different from all the men and women I had ever seen up to that time or have since seen. There was no assumption of any kind about her, she made no effort to be anybody's conception of herself, and she acted her part with as little regard for her own interests as for the feelings of others. Whatever she was not expected to say in conversation that she said, brusquely, bluntly, and without thought of consequences. She had the least regard for the conventionalities, of any person I ever met, and at the same time she seemed the most sensitive of women when any doubt of her proper performance of her own duty was manifested.

 

For the self-love and vanity of men and women she seemed to have a scornful disregard, and her rudeness and impatience when forced to witness a display of either, were terrifying. She would exclaim against the conceit and bigotry of people, in language forcible beyond any necessity, but she was never aware, apparently, of her roughness of speech. Strangers were shocked at her lack of self-control, but those who knew her best seemed to be least concerned over her moods.

 

In her conduct she was always the same; indifferent to externals; absorbed in her work, and imperative in her assertions regarding its value to the world.

 

Her invariable costume was a loose, flowing, black, one-piece garment, called an "Abayah." The Egyptian women wear this kind of dress and it is one vastly becoming and comfortable for stout people. Every one knows that Madame Blavatsky was a very large woman, but she never gave one that impression of mere fleshiness which is common to stout women who wear fashionable tight fitting clothing. She was about medium height and had very small hands and feet.

 

Her "abayah" was cut from a double fold of very wide cloth and had no other tailoring than was required to fold the six-yard piece and directly in the center of the fold to cut out a circular piece, and to cut a further opening down the center of the cloth. The neck and front thus formed was bound with silk and usually a lace ruffling was inserted. There were no other sleeves than those outlined by the arms when extended full length, and fastened in loose folds with safety pins.

 

These were sometimes replaced by a seam which was removed when the dress required to be cleaned or laundried. With her beautifully shaped hands and arms there was no need of tight-fitting sleeves and the simplicity and Grecian outlines of her dress were always admired. The "abayah" was exactly suited to her size, slow motions, and sedentary habits; few western women would appear to advantage in it.

 

At the time that Madame Blavatsky was in Paris, in the spring of 1884, she had just come from troubles at Adyar; troubles relating to the charges of fraud and trickery made against her by Madame Coulomb. And she was constantly in mental turmoil over the real or fancied grievances inflicted upon her by this woman and her husband.

 

She would suddenly appeal to almost perfect strangers to know their opinion of "the situation." And she would listen to anything of a denunciatory character said regarding these people whom she believed to have been paid to try to catch her in some fraud-and yet, when she had opportunity to send messages back to India by a member of the Theosophical Society, she said to him: "My dear, go and see Madame Coulomb, she is not the evil one in this matter and let her know how I feel about her."

 

And the very next moment she was rasped into a fury of temper by a remark that Madame Coulomb believed the masters to be fakes. She could not brook doubt on this subject, nor endure those who questioned the existence of the "Brotherhood of Adepts." Her devotion to her "Master" was unswerving and paramount. To question the nature or the office of the Mahatmas was to give her such provocation to wrath as to unfit her for immediate self command.

 

Her ebullitions of temper over the most trivial things were painful, but fortunately they were fleeting; I have seen her appal people by her violent emotions one minute, and in the next show the extreme of indifference. The group of intimates about her paid little attention to her mental cyclones, well knowing that to do so, was to waste time uselessly. She impressed me always as a singular contradiction; it was idle to try to classify her; she could not be measured by class distinction, or be weighed in any conventional social balance.

 

I recall one occasion when I sat with her during a tempest of angry talk over some disagreeable news she had received from India. Her anger depressed me and I sat mute and miserable, wishing in my heart that as I could not soothe her, I might escape from her presence. Suddenly she turned and looked at me as a mother might look at a demure child, and said in the most winning manner: "My dear, will you have a cigarette?"

 

And while I was laughing as a relief to my feelings, she smilingly made herself a cigarette and then smoked as contentedly as though life was but an unvarying song to her.

 

Looking at her one day it occurred to me she must be perhaps fifty years of age; I learned from others that she was between fifty and sixty, but I heard her laughingly tell a woman caller that she was over eighty. Her face was not one lined with care wrinkles, her hair showed no grey, and her eyes were wonderful in their strength and clearness. Her mouth, to me, appeared to be the least handsome feature of her face, but so changeable was the whole face in expression that it sometimes appeared to better advantage than at others.

 

Her head was exquisitely shaped, and she dressed her hair in simple Grecian style, thus adding to its classical out- lines. The hair was a chestnut brown in color and exceedingly curly. Her hands were flawless in shape and very white, a fact always noted by visitors, for her complexion was not fair, and her skin was coarse in texture and often muddy looking, giving the impression of some internal disorder, and she had not the least color in her cheeks.

 

Her linguistic accomplishments were remarkable even in a Russian. It was a joy to hear her speak French-and the young ·Parisians who crowded her ;parlor on Sunday afternoons and evenings were often heard to remark her accent. I liked to be present at these Sunday afternoon gatherings, for she talked well, and gave much instruction to the young men who were members o{ the Paris branch of the Theosophical Society.

 

One incident that occurred at one of these receptions was very interesting. A daring young convert asked her to do some phenomena so that the strangers present might be informed regarding her powers. She was furious in a moment and rebuked him in such a loud voice that every one present turned toward her in silence.

 

Then, as gently as a child could confess repentance, she meekly said: "If the Masters wish it, I will be permitted." And just here it is but right I should insert this fact: I never heard her take credit to herself for any of the wonderful things she certainly did; she invariably prefaced every performance with some tribute to the Mahatmas, and often deplored the morbid craving of people for an exhibition of such powers as she possessed, saying it would do them no good whatever.

 

Her sister, Madame Vera Petrovna Jelihovsky, and her aunt, the Countess Nadejda Andreevna Fodeeff, were visiting her at the time, and the former, I think, was in the room when this incident occurred.

 

Madame Blavatsky rose from her seat on the sofa and with some difficulty —as it seemed— walked across the drawing room and stood in front of a large mirror. She placed both hands upon it, lightly — standing with her back to the company. The young Frenchmen were nearest to her. Suddenly, after a brief interval of silence, a loud crash, followed by what sounded like the falling of broken glass, was heard.

 

I thought the mirror had been broken by her sudden weight against it, but she was not near it, and her hands had rested but lightly upon its surface. There was a general exclamation of surprise and wonder, and the curious ones examined the glass critically. As Madame Blavatsky turned away looking bored and weary, some one suggested that she put her hands on a pane of glass in the large window in the f root part of the room. She did so and this time we waited longer than before for results. But finally there came a loud crashing sound, as if some one had struck a mass of glass with a hammer. The glass was unharmed.

 

The excitement of the Frenchmen knew no bounds; they enthusiastically clapped their hands and beamed upon the "High Priestess," as one of them called her. Their outspoken delight and enthusiasm pleased her; or, rather she seemed aroused to an unusual degree of interest in her guests, and for an hour or more talked so brilliantly that every one was amazed. It was an hour of enchantment to some of her listeners and I doubt if any one of that company ever knew another equal to it, either in her presence, or out of it. I could not sleep that night for thinking of her and of the events of the evening.

 

The next time I met her she was in one of her towering rages, and was anathematizing the missionaries whom she denounced as bigots and frauds, and the worst representatives of humanity in the East. Some of them represented the Church of England in India, and she knew them to be absolutely ignorant of the spirit of the master they claimed to serve.

 

She denounced Protestants generally, and said the Catholics, because they were more sincere and less irreligious than Protestants, were gaining an influence in the world far greater than the latter understood, or would ever appreciate. The Catholic priests, she said, did work among the poor and try to help the friendless. The Protestant missionaries spent their time splitting questions of doctrine over the corpse of Protestantism. For her part, she said, she cared nothing for either sect; her religion, she defined, as love for humanity and her object in life to establish a Universal Brotherhood.

 

Then she talked of the Theosophical Society, through which she hoped to be able to accomplish much. Theosophy, she said, was a subject that should interest the best minds of the age; in time, she knew, it would claim the attention of spiritual people the world over. She also said the Society had been founded by herself, Col. Olcott and William Q. Judge, for an unselfish purpose, not on their own initiative, but under guidance and direction of those who had been her teachers in esoteric knowledge.

 

She had resolved many years before to devote herself to the work she was then engaged in; she desired no other occupation than to serve the Masters; she had been their pupil; had received exceptional favors from them; had lived in total seclusion at their command for nine years in Tibet and had come out into the world again at their bidding. She had no expectations of escaping the fate of those who had lived in the world, and with the world, particularly because her career had been an uncommon one.

 

Her life had been a long one and a strange one; strange to her looking back upon it; as upon a half broken dream. Her visit to Europe, she said, was to see if the Western mind was prepared to learn the Eastern teachings; if so, she could and would open avenues not before accessible to them; but her best efforts she thought would be met with derision and scorn. This was the fate of all devoted workers in every line of spiritual work in all ages.

 

I soon noted that Madame Blavatsky, whatever else she was, earnestly believed that she had a mission, and I further satisfied myself of the possession by her of a tremendously strong will. She knew how to use it, and when not to exhibit it, and she was either the most communicative or the most silent person I have ever met.

 

 

(The Word, February 1912, p.262-269)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LAURA HOLLOWAY RELATES ABOUT THE LETTERS SHE RECEIVED FROM MASTER KUTHUMI

(Laura Holloway was an American Theosophist and in this article she talks about the epistolary exchange she had in her youth with Master Kuthumi several decades ago.)

 

 

THE MAHATMAS AND THEIR INSTRUMENTS BY L. C. L.

 

MADAME BLAVATSKY AND THE MASTERS - PRECIPITATED LETTERS AND THEIR RECIPIENTS

 

Comparatively few of the thousands of Theosophists in the world have ever been the recipients of letters from Mahatmas, about which they all have heard so much and known so little. On the other hand, a few individuals have received these direct testimonials under certain extraordinary conditions, and have been permitted to write letters which, though they were never posted, were answered in part or at length.

 

One long letter well remembered became it was the outpouring of a turbulent and persistent young soul, was placed in a drawer of a desk in a London bedroom. A few moments later, the writer, who had not left her seat at the side of the desk nearest to the drawer, pulled the latter open and the letter was gone.

 

How often would such a thing as that happen to anyone, anywhere?

 

It did happen, and under these circumstances. Madame Blavatsky sat at that desk, and it was with her permission that the letter was put into that empty drawer "to go to Mahatma if it could be delivered."

 

That was many years ago, and time and death have been powerful factors at work in the lives of those concerned since then. But the memory of the events of that morning, when the air of England was filled with the warmth of spring and laden with the perfume of flowers which grew in the beautiful gardens back of the mansion, is just as fresh as though it had happened today. And the atmosphere of peace and hospitality pervading that home, is recalled with a sense so real that its intensity is both painful and pleasurable.

 

There was no mystery or magic or complex purpose conceived with the circumstance; the only explanation that was given then and is repeated now, was the intensest desire, the determined purpose to know the Masters, if they could be reached through love.

 

What mattered it that the laws governing the transmission of messages was not understood?

 

What fear could be felt when affection alone inspired the writer and influenced the agent?

 

Madame Blavatsky was the channel through whom all the Mahatma letters had come to those of the West, and she it was who knew the fate of the letter referred to. She must have been aware also of the manner in which its answer was to come, and did come.

 

The next morning, while dressing in my room, I had a sudden sense of an electric signal-; something unexpectedly shocked me, and I put down the hair brush I held in my hand and turned toward the door. No one had knocked, yet I was in a state of expectancy and felt that either I should see some one, or hear something.

 

The bed was on the side of the room• between the bureau and the door. I glanced at it or over it, in looking toward the door. Suddenly an impulse moved me to go to the side of the bed; I did so and for some reason, I cannot clearly explain, I lifted the small pillow which I had used, and under it lay a sealed envelope, addressed to me. The contents of the envelope surprised me not more than finding it where it was found.

 

Had it been there all night?

 

I do not know, but I think not. The maid had prepared the bed as usual at night and I had not changed the position of the pillow, so far as I could recall, but I did not think then, and I do not now, that I could have slept with the letter under my face without realizing its presence. Many persons who were about me at the time saw the letter and heard the statements made concerning it, and its predecessor. I was closely questioned concerning it by those who believed me and those who perhaps doubted my story, but no one ever thought as much about it as I did, or pondered its contents with more sincerity and perplexity.

 

Of all who talked with me I recall that Mr. Stainton Moses, the noted editor of Light, the leading organ of the spiritualists in England, cheerily explained it to be the work of the spirits, and told me I was a real medium. He assured me that there was no other possible explanation of the matter, and this he earnestly believed.

 

I knew, however, that it was the work of a Great and Living Soul, who for some reason for so doing, had given me and others through me, this signal proof of his desire to help us in our effort to learn the spiritual side of nature, and to understand the laws governing it. Madame Blavatsky vouchsafed no ·explanations, merely corroborated my statements that I had a tremendous wish to hear from a Mahatma, and took the only method I know of to accomplish that purpose; saying also that I interrupted her while she was writing her weekly Russian newspaper article and told her the one wish of my life was to be recognized and in the one way I had selected.

 

I remember how she gazed at me as though I had suddenly become demented; but I, undaunted, had said, "where shall I put it?"

 

My letter was a bulky one in a square envelope and she laughed when I had taken it from my bag and placed it before her on the desk. A volley of reproaches would not have surprised me, but she sat quietly leaning back in her arm chair looking at me. Then I pulled open the small upper drawer on the side of the desk and said, "In here?"

 

"Yes," she said, "you may put it there and find it there when you come for it again."

 

For answer I opened the drawer again instantly and the letter was gone. So great was my joy that I could not decide what to do, but I had been reading Edwin Arnold's "Light of Asia" and was prompted to quote the couplet:

 

         "Om Mani Padme Hum; the sunrise comes,

           The dew drop slips into the shining sea."

 

Then courtesying low and swiftly to her, I left the room. I was a child in my spiritual growth then and had the courage of ignorance. But then as now I loved the Masters — those Beings who had passed the race on its onward march and had achieved a knowledge of Nature so immensely extended that it seemed to us in our ignorance, as impossible.

 

It was intuition that aided me to know these finished products of humanity, and because they represented my ideals I loved them. And, loving them, it seemed but natural that I should ask for aid, and offer to serve with their permission in the order and on the plane to which I belonged.

 

What amazed me then, however, and amazes me yet after this long lapse of time, is the confidence I felt in the certainty that my letter would be answered. There was not a doubt in my mind; and I was not surprised to find my letter gone from where I had put it not two minutes before. The feeling

 

I had when I made the discovery was one of exhilaration, of soul satisfaction, and I went from that room into the beautiful gardens at the rear of the house in order to be alone. I was in a state of suppressed excitement, but it was not the common sort of excitement, and was not in the least related to a feeling of personal vanity or triumph. Even after the lapse of nearly twenty years, I feel again the spiritual exaltation; the overmastering sense of gratitude, and humility which possessed me. I walked among the roses and sweet-scented star jasmine blossoms; listened to the birds singing in the trees; watched the children at play in the walks-and steadied my nerves and quieted the beatings of my heart, with the holy joy that pervaded my being.

 

And the gratitude I felt far in excess of that created by the wonderful evidence given me of the existence of a power I did not understand and could not explain-was for the proof I had received of the genuineness of my own experiences: the correctness of my own visions; the immortality and divinity of my own soul. Souls cannot be immortal without being a part of Divinity: in that sense I felt my superior self that sunny June morning to be divine. I never was so happy in my life before; I may never expect to know a greater sense of joy.

 

 

In conversations with Madam Blavatsky regarding the transmission of this letter and of other manifestations I had witnessed, she made many interesting observations, some of which I transcribe from my note book for the benefit of the readers of The Word magazine.

 

"Western people," she said, "are in their first phase of spiritual awakening, and want phenomena at every step."

 

Again she said: "People expect too much from others in psychic matters. They demand to know about the Mahatmas and, when answered according to their understandings, they demand that I do just what they tell me by way of proof. When I refuse, they go away and abuse me. You know enough about the law of Karma to realize that I can- not interfere with it."

 

"I tell every one that it is possible for them to learn occult things; and how little or how big the results obtained will depend upon themselves, and what they have been in other lives. Because I know the Mahatmas and try to serve them, it does not follow that I can make others acquainted with them. It depends entirely upon thinking."

 

And then she quoted a paragraph from the Master's letter which has been published by Mr. Sinnett, which is as follows:

 

"Everyone should try to break through that" great Maya against which occult students, the world over, have always been warned by their teachers-the hankering after phenomena. Like the thirst for drink and opium, it grows with gratification. The spiritualists are drunk with it, they are thaumaturgic sots. If you cannot be happy without phenomena you will never learn our philosophy."

 

 

One day there came a Mahatma letter to one of our number who was a member of the London Lodge, in which the writer, after reminding her that the Mahatmas were not public scribes or clerks with time to be continually writing notes and answers to individual correspondents, said, as to discipleship:

 

« Time enough to discuss the terms of chelaship when the aspirant has digested what has already been given out, and mastered his most palpable vices and weaknesses. This you show or say to all. The members of the _____ [Esoteric Section?] have such an opportunity as seldom comes to men. A movement calculated to benefit an English-speaking world is in their custody. If they do their whole duty, the progress of materialism, the increase of dangerous self-indulgence and the tendency towards spiritual suicide, can be checked. The theory of vicarious atonement has brought about its inevitable re-action: only the knowledge of Karma can offset it.

 

The pendulum has swung from the extreme of blind faith towards the extreme of materialistic skepticism, and nothing can stop it save Theosophy. Is not this a thing worth working for, to save those nations from the doom their ignorance is preparing for them?

 

Think you the truth has been shown to you for your sole advantage? That we have broken the silence of centuries for the profit of a handful of dreamers only. The converging lines of your Karma have drawn each and all of you into this Society as to a common focus that you may each help to work out the results of your interrupted beginnings in the last birth. None of you can be so blind as to suppose that this is your first dealing with Theosophy. You surely must realize that this would be the same as to say that effects come without causes.

 

Know, then, that it depends now upon each of you whether you shall henceforth struggle alone after spiritual wisdom through this and the next incarnate life or in the company of your present associates, and greatly helped by the mutual sympathy and aspiration. Blessings to all deserving them. »

 

 

This letter was signed "K.H.," as is the following one, selected from a collection addressed to me, by the same Great Teacher. As a sacred treasure I value it, and have preserved it with loving care until this time, when I am told to share my possessions with those "who love the Masters and their love of men." Let the reader bear in mind that it was written for the benefit of a very young, wholly inexperienced and very ignorant "chela," whose exceptional advantages she did not then realize or appreciate. It is as follows:

 

« When you are older in your chela life you will not be surprised if no notice is taken of your wishes, and even birthdays and other feasts and fasts. For you will have then learned to put a proper value on the carcass-sheath of the Self and all its relations. To the profane a birthday is but a twelve-month-stride toward the grave. When each new year marks for you a step of evolution all will be ready with their congratulations: there will be something real to felicitate you upon.

 

But, so far, you are not even one year old-and you would be treated as an adult! Try to learn to stand firm on your legs, child, before you venture walking. It is because you are so young and ignorant in the ways of occult life that you are so easily forgiven. But you have to attend your ways and put ...... and her caprices and whims far in the background before the expiration of the first year of your life as a chela if you would see the dawn of the second year.

 

Now, the lake in the mountain heights of your being is one day a tossing waste of waters, as the gust of caprice or temper sweeps through your soul; the next a mirror as they subside, and peace reigns in the "house of life." One day you win a step forward; the next you fall two back. Chelaship admits none of these transitions; its prime and constant qualification is a calm, even, contemplative state of mind (not the mediumistic passivity) fitted to receive psychic ·impressions from without, and to transmit one's own from within. The mind can be made to work with electric swiftness in a high excitement; but the Buddhi-never. To its clear region, calm must ever reign. It is foolish to be thinking of outward Upasika (Blavatsky) in this connection. She is not a '”chela”.

. . .

You cannot acquire psychic power until the causes of psychic debility are removed. You have scarcely learned the elements of self-control in psychism; your vivid creative imagination evokes illusive creatures, coined the instant before in the mint of your mind, unknown to yourself. As yet you have not acquired the exact method of detecting the false from the true, since you have not yet comprehended the doctrine of shells.

 

How can you know the real from the unreal, the true from the false?

 

Only by self-development.

 

How get that?

 

By first carefully guarding yourself against the causes of self-deception. And this you can do by spending a certain fixed hour or hours each day all alone in self-contemplation, writing, reading, the purification of your motives, the study and correction of your faults, the planning of your work in the external life. These hours should be sacredly reserved for this purpose, and no one, not even your most intimate friend or friends, should be with you then. Little by little your sight will clear, you will find the mists pass away, your interior faculties strengthen, your attraction towards us gain; force, and certainty replace doubts.

 

But beware of seeking or leaning too much upon direct authority. Our ways are not your ways. We rarely show any outward signs by which to be recognized or sensed. Do you think . . . . and . . . . and . . . . have been counseling you entirely without prompting from us.

 

As for U. [Upasika], you love her more than you respect her advice. You do not realize that when speaking of, or as from us she dares not m\x: up her own personal opinions with those she tells you are ours. None of us would dare do so, for we have a code that is not to be transgressed. Learn, child, to catch at a hint through whatever agency it may be given. “Sermons may be preached even through stones. . . .” Do not be too eager for 'instructions.' You will always get what you need as you shall deserve them, but no more than you deserve or are able to assimilate. . . .

 

And now the battle is set in array; fight a good fight and may you win the day. »

 

 

 

Another, and far too personal a letter to be quoted in print, contains the following valued statements.

 

"The fundamental principle of occultism is that every idle word is recorded as well as one full of earnest meaning."

 

"I can do .nothing unless you help me by helping your- self. Try to realize that in occultism one can neither go back nor stop. An abyss opens behind every step taken forward. . . ."

 

 

One day· there came to me from the Master, in a letter addressed to Madam Blavatsky, these messages:

 

« Tell -- from Mahatma -- that spiritual faculties demand instruction and regulation even more than our mental gifts, for intellect imbibes wrong far more easily than good. -- ought to bear always in mind these lines of Tennyson:

 

-      "Self reverence, self knowledge, self control, these three alone lead life to sovereign power."

 

But to remember at the same time the extreme danger of self will when it is not regulated by the three above mentioned qualities, especially in a question of spiritual development.

. . .

Let her obtain self-control over self-will and a too great sensibility, and she thus may become the most perfect as the strongest pillar of the Theosophical Society. »

 

_  _  _

 

 

From old note books dated over a quarter of a century ago are taken the following extracts from letters written by the Mahatmas K. H., and M. to various chelas of .the Theosophical Society. Some of them are taken from letters already made public, others are from personal letters and notes received during the Spring and Summer of the year 1884.

 

The book referred to in some of the extracts given below is "Man; Fragments of Forgotten History," then in course of preparation.

 

From K. H.

 

« You want a definition, Child, of "Spirit." Inflowing force will define it as well as any other term. »

 

 

From K. H.

 

« Why must you be so faint-hearted in the performance of your duty? Friendship, personal feelings and gratitude are no doubt noble feelings, but duty alone leads to the development you so crave for. Try to show them the truth for the last time. I desire you to go to ____; I desire you to change magnetisms as little as you can. »

 

 

From K .H.

 

« The feeble efforts of a life are contemptible indeed when compared to the results of an eternity (a word of which you hardly have a conception) and the sum total of all actions is of no account compared to the future. But shall you, because you have this future, in which to act and to create, refuse to go forward now? Divided nature — hesitate before acting.

 

The book is a project undertaken; why not complete it? Its existence will depend upon you for you alone can create it, and the materials are in no other hands. But should you refuse to go on — do not deceive yourself with the false idea that you are unable to do what you have done.

 

The real reason is loss of confidence and you are responsible for the influence that you permit others to exert over you. Shall you be tried in the balance and be found wanting? Will you go back to the old conditions of things in America? It is our wish to take you out of them. »

 

 

From K .H.

 

« The greatest consolation in and the foremost duty of life, child, is not to give pain, and avoid causing suffering to man or beast. It requires no acute intelligence to put two and two in the present situation and see it makes four. On the one hand we have one who has suffered greatly to serve ourselves and cause; one even suspected, ever condemned, and who is now being crucified by Public Opinion on the tree of infamy.

 

Right at her side stands one of those for whom she has so suffered; the indirect cause of it, yet one who at the first glimpse of false appearance would not hesitate to suspect her himself. Nevertheless, this man also has suffered, he merits consideration, and ought to have his doubts solved. To satisfy him and thus help the cause in its present very complicated situation, we who are forbidden to use our powers with Europeans can act but thro' our chelas or one like H.P.B. We can get at him but thro' those two channels. Where are the chelas strong enough to help us without the aid of our own powers?

 

One is many thousand miles away, the other, the adept, is here. An answer through the former would necessitate two months. But she (H.P.B.) refuses most positively to lend herself henceforth to such services. She is right. She demands it in the name of her Karma and therefore not to be ordered against her will. Her self sacrifices were so ill requited and it would be cruelty and abuse of power to subject her to new persecutions. »

 

 

From K .H.

(From a letter to Col. Olcott from K. H.)

 

« Should find in her own intuitions all the proof needed that we (the Mahatmas) are satisfied with her book, her first attempt at expounding occult doctrine. Be kind and brotherly to her always. She is honest, candid, noble-minded and full of zeal. Do not criticize; her faults are those of her, and your country.

 

Upasika (H.P.B.) is sick, so you must do as I tell you. Read them aloud to her (the chapters of "Man" already finished), or, have Mohini do so, successfully, to relieve you, and to H.S.O. "M" will follow it with D.K. ( Dwjal KhooI), and stop you through her when correction is needed. You have done a good work, child. I am satisfied. Be strong; do not think of home; all is well that ends well. Trust to the future and be hopeful. »

 

 

From the Master K.H. to H.P.B.

 

« Leave her strictly alone. You have no right to influence her either way. Whether she goes, or remains, her subsequent fate is in her own hands. I cannot answer the same questions over and over again. I said to her, Try — and shall say no more. You may tell her this — that for one so emphatically determined in some of her moods; one who asserted so often that she was ready at a moments notice to go to Tibet in search of me, saying "Here I am — will you teach me Master" — if only she knew she would thereby gain the knowledge sought. She acts with remarkable inconsistency. It is ____’s a magnetism — the coming letter and the one received — that upsets her. I did not want to seem too hard to forbid all intercourse for the time — and these are the results.

 

If she has not learnt yet the fundamental principle in occultism that every idle word is recorded as well as one full of earnest meaning, she ought to be told as much, before being allowed to take one step further. I will not tell you her future; nor should you try to see. You know it is against the rules.

 

Anyhow you must not regret the three months lost, your and our own efforts, and M's time wasted in the case, if it all ends in a failure. You will have help; the only sufferer will be herself. I regret it deeply. I would if I could develop this richly gifted nature, quiet and soothe in the bosom of the eternal Truth the sensitive soul ever suffering from self inflicted wounds. I can do nothing, if she does not help me by helping herself. Try to make her realize that in occultism we can neither go back nor stop. That an abyss opens behind every step taken forward. Be kind and gentle with her, whatever happens. She suffers, and patience was never a word for her. She would be made a regular Chela before she showed herself fit even for a probationary candidate.

 

"I am not a chela," she keeps on saying — ignorant of having pledged herself as one unconsciously and when out of the body. Oh, if I could have the assurance only that the book will be finished I Indeed? Thus while fretting over the short period before her in the future, she loses hour after hour, day after day, instead of working at it in the present and thus finish it. »

 

 

Mahatma M. to H.P.B.

 

« It is impossible for K. H. to trouble every moment for the most unimportant matters. This must stop. Why should she not have confidence in what you say, but must needs have autographs from Masters. She was told to publish it simultaneously here and across water, but has still less confidence in herself. Had she been docile to advice given her; had she avoided to fall daily under magnetic influence that, after first experiment, dragged her down from the lofty plane of seership to the low level of mediumship, she would have developed by this time sufficiently to trust in herself with her visions. All you women are "Zin Zin" fools to yourselves and to please a kind and affectionate friend, ready to sacrifice your own salvation.

 

The house-Upasika will find that reverential friendship does not exclude pig-headedness, envy and jealousy. The Patal-Upasika will soon ascertain the dangers during development of mixing a western magnetism. Warn her once more, and if she does not heed-no — more. If advice is asked — then it ought to be followed. You may tell her that if she stops for some time with you then I can help her on behalf of K. He surely has no time just now. Did not she, herself, feel that after she had sat near —— for half and hour or so her visions began changing character? Ought this not be a warning for her? Of course she is serving a purpose and knew it in — but was made to forget by the other two magnetisms.

 

Take her with you to Schmiechen and tell her to see. Yes, she is good and pure and chela-like; only terribly flabby in kindness of heart. Say to Schmiechen that he will be helped. I myself will guide his hands with brush for K.'s portrait. »

 

 

From K. H.

 

« Courage and fidelity, truthfulness and sincerity, always win our regard. Keep on child, as you have been doing. Fight for the persecuted and the wrong; those who thro' self sacrifice have made themselves helpless whether in Europe or China. I will correspond with you thro' her, but not unless you keep to yourself faithfully the secret. You may show the letters but never reveal the way they come to you. You will have to pledge yourself solemnly to that effect before I begin.

 

Blessings on you, Child, and keep off shells. »

 

 

(The Word, May 1912, p.69-76, and July 1912, p. 200-203)

 

 

 

 

 

 

OBSERVATION

 

Laura Holloway had great clairvoyance abilities, but the above letters show the importance that is required in these cases to lead an extremely pure life to prevent the low magnetisms of others from disturbing that faculty and causing the person to fall in mediumship.