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The Letters of H. P. Blavatsky to A. P. Sinnett - 1925

By A. T. Barker

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Letter No. 57

{Wurzburg}

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; 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, however).
(6) Mohini, Bowajee, Bawani Row, Damodar, etc. etc., are all liars and confederates.
(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 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 [There is a portion of the original missing at this point. — Ed.]

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? [The remainder of the letter is missing. — Ed.]