The Authentic Letters of
H.P.B., As Edited by One
Of the Main Founders of the
Theosophical Movement
William Q. Judge
H.P. Blavatsky and W.Q. Judge
Introduction to Chapter 12
of the Present Online Edition:
We see in this
chapter the ardent love H.P.B. felt for Russian culture, including its exoteric
religion.
We must note that everything was not always
easy as to H.P.B.’s ties with her family, once V. Solovioff started to attack
the theosophical movement. For some short time he succeeded in creating a sort
of family crisis.
H.P.B. wrote to Alfred P. Sinnett, referring
to her aunt Nadya:
“Whether it is through Solovioff the infernal
gossip, or someone else, but last night I got a letter from her reproaching me
mildly but firmly and as I see in great agony, (I will tell you why). ‘I told
you,’ she says, ‘at Elberfeld not to give my name and you answered that Myers
was a theosophist and a gentleman, a man of honour, and now I hear that I am
also mixed in the phenomena business - phenomena that were your curse during
your childhood and youth and which have now led you to public dishonour.’ And
she goes on saying that it was and is all from the devil, and asks me not to be
angry with her but that my Masters do seem to be uncanny, so uncanny that she
as a Christian dare not even think of them!” [1]
The karmic lesson of impersonality was not easy for H.P.B.’s lower
self. Her sister Vera Jelihovsky also
turned against her for a while, and H.P.B. wrote to Sinnett:
“I am so lonely, so miserable in my earthly human affections (. .
.) having lost all those I love -
through death and the T.S.
associations (my sister, for one, who writes me a thundering letter calling me
a renegade a ‘sacrilegious
Julian the Apostate,’ and a ‘Judas’ to Christ) (. . . ).” [2]
Later on Vera realized her mistake and fiercely defended H.P.B. against
Solovioff’s lies and slanders.
Besides her love for her country, H.P.B. letters to her family show how
important it was for her to try to preserve intact the emotional ties with her
Christian ortodox relatives, whom she loved so dearly.
(Carlos
Cardoso Aveline)
NOTES:
[1] “The Letters of
H.P. Blavatsky to A.P. Sinnett”, transcribed by A.T. Barker, Theosophical
University Press, Pasadena, California, 1973, 404 pp., see p. 149.
[2] “The Letters of H.P. Blavatsky to A.P.
Sinnett”, transcribed by A.T. Barker, Theosophical University Press, Pasadena,
California, 1973, 404 pp., see p. 172.
Vera’s daughters were also against H.P.B. for a time due to Solovioff,
as one sees on page 149, right after the passage quoted above.
Letters of H.P. Blavatsky [1]
Chapter XII
[THE PATH, Volume X, New York, November 1895, pp. 235-240]
The
effect of her work was spreading, at which she was overjoyed, founding with her
usual buoyancy great hopes for her Society, the teachings she advocated and the
people who followed them. But personally, at the bottom of her heart, she felt
cold and lonely, in spite of the many devoted people around her. Her constant cry was, Oh for something
Russian, something familiar, somebody or something loved from childhood! She was always glad to spend all her savings
to have her sister or her sister’s children with her. To please her, Madame Jelihovsky offered to
ask the Rev. E. Smirnoff, the minister of the Russian Embassy Church in London,
to call on her. H.P.B. was very pleased
with the suggestion:
“But will he not refuse?”,
she wrote in return. “Maybe he also takes me for the
Antichrist? What an inconsistent old
fool I am: there is a gulf for me between the Catholic and the Protestant
clergy and our own priesthood. Is it not
astonishing that I, a heathen, hating Protestantism and Catholicism alike, should
feel all my soul drawn towards the Russian Church. I am a renegade, a cosmopolitan unbeliever - everyone thinks
so, and I also think so, and yet I would
give the last drop of my blood for the triumph of the Russian Church and
everything Russian.”
During the winter of 1887 Novoe
Vremya, one of the leading St. Petersburg papers, informed the Russian
public that Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, a compatriot of theirs, had settled in
London with the view of demolishing Christianity and spreading Buddhism, to
further which she had already built a pagoda with Buddha’s idol in it, etc.,
etc. She immediately wrote a letter on
the subject to the office of this newspaper, in a very good-natured and
humorous tone, but unfortunately it was never printed.
“Why should Novoe
Vremya tell such fibs?”, she wrote
to Mme. Jelihovsky. “Whence could it
gather that our intention is to preach Buddhism? We never dreamed of such a thing.
If in Russia they read my Lucifer,
our chief organ in Europe at present,
they would learn that we preach the purest Theosophy, avoiding the
extremes of Count Tolstoi, trying to reestablish the purely Christlike
Theosophy and life-giving morality. In
the third, November, number there will
be an article of mine (‘The Esoteric Character of the Gospels’) in which I
stand up for the teachings of Christ,
glorifying, as usual, his true doctrine, not disfigured as yet either by
Popery or Protestantism. I, i.e., we Theosophists, certainly unmask
Phariseeism and superstition of every kind. I do not spare Catholicism either,
which has overdressed the pure teachings of Christ with unnecessary gewgaws and
empty-sounding ritualism, or Protestantism which, in the heat of its
indignation against the willfulness of the Pope and the vanity of the Catholic
clergy, has stripped the tree of truth of all its healthy bloom and fruit, as
well as of the barren flowers, which were grafted on it by Popery. We mean, it is true, to give it hot to
bigotry, to Phariseeism, to bitter
materialism, but ‘Buddhism’ is not the right word for them to use. Make of it whatever you can. People call me, and I must admit, I also call
myself a heathen. I simply can’t listen
to people talking about the wretched Hindus or Buddhists being converted to
Anglican Phariseeism or the Pope’s Christianity: it simply gives me the
shivers. But when I read about the spread of Russian orthodoxy in Japan, my
heart rejoices. Explain it if you
can. I am nauseated by the mere sight of
any foreign clerical, but as to the familiar figure of a Russian pope I can
swallow it without any effort. . . . . . . . I told you a fib in Paris, when I said I did not want to go to our
Church; I was ashamed to say that I went
there before your arrival, and stood there, with my mouth wide open, as if
standing before my own dear mother, whom I have not seen for years and who could not recognize me! . . . . . . . I do not believe in any dogmas, I dislike
every ritual, but my feelings towards our own church-service are quite
different. I am driven to think that my brains lack their seventh stopper [2] . . . . . . Probably, it is in my blood . . . . . . . I
certainly will always say: a thousand
times rather Buddhism, a pure moral
teaching, in perfect harmony with the
teachings of Christ, than modern Catholicism or Protestantism. But with the
faith of the Russian Church I will not even compare Buddhism. I can’t help it. Such is my silly, inconsistent nature.”
In May 1888 Madame Jelihovsky lost her son. Madame Blavatsky felt her sister’s sorrow
with her usual acuteness and passion, which is shown by the two following
fragments:
“. . . . . . . in a country new
to you all, you, may be, will find some
relief. Come, darling. Come all of you, my dears . . . . . . . . do
not grudge me this greatest joy . . . . .
. you will have a separate room, and we
have a garden, a nice shady garden, with birds singing in it, as if in the
country. You shall be comfortable, and
the poor girls will have what little distraction is possible for them . . . .
Smirnoff is also writing to you, advising you to come. He is so fond of you all . . . . . . He has just been to see me. He is the only person with whom I could talk
about you as with an intimate friend.
For God’s sake make up your mind!
Do come! . . . . . . .do not change your mind. The hope to see you has given new life to
me. This is my first gladness, my first
ray of light in the darkness of sorrow and suffering, of my lonely suffering, my untold suffering
for you! . . . . . . Come, darling. . . . . . . .”
She certainly possessed a great
faith in the undying nature of man, which amounted to knowledge, and
without doubt she could have used her moral influence over her sister to
console her. But the great kindness of her loving heart knew better than even
this and she tried to soothe her loved ones with words about new, unfamiliar
surroundings, her garden and birds
singing in it, as simple as the first
pangs of her sister’s sorrowing heart.
Late in the autumn of 1888 there was a considerable lapse between her
letters to her sister, at which Madame Jelihovsky grew impatient and wrote
reproachfully to ask with what she was so very busy that she could not find a
minute to write a letter. Madame
Blavatsky answered:
“Friend and sister: your thoughtless question, ‘What am I so busy with?’
has fallen amongst us like a bomb loaded with naive ignorance of the active
life of a Theosophist. Having read it, I translated your Kushma Proatkoff [3] into the language of Shakespeare;
and, as soon as I translated it - Bert., Arch., Wright, Mead, and the rest of
my home staff swooned right away, smitten
with your defamatory question ‘what am I busy with?’ I, is it?
I tell you, if there ever was in
the world an overworked victim it is your long-suffering sister. Do take the trouble to count my
occupations, you heartless Zoilas. Every month I write from forty to fifty pages
of “Esoteric Instructions”, instructions in secret sciences, which must not be
printed. Five or six wretched voluntary
martyrs among my esotericists have to draw, write and lithograph during the
nights, some 320 copies of them, which I have to superintend, to rectify, to
compare and to correct, so that there may be no mistakes and my occult
information may not be put to shame.
Just think of that! White-haired,
trained Cabalists and sworn Free-Masons take lessons from me . . . . . . . Then, the editing of Lucifer wholly depends upon me, from the leader and some other more
or less lively article for every number, to the correcting of proofs. Then my dear Countess d’Adhémar sends me La Revue Théosophique; I can’t refuse to
help her either. Then, I also must
eat, like everyone else, which means
supplying some other bread-winning article.
Then the receptions, the weekly meetings, accompanied by learned
discussions, with a stenographer behind
my back, and sometimes two or three
reporters in the corners, - all this,
you can easily believe, takes some time.
I must read up for every Thursday, because the people who come here are no
ignoramuses from the street, but such people as the electrician K., Dr.
William B. and the naturalist C.B. I must be prepared to defend the teachings of
Occultism against the applied sciences, so that the reports of the stenographer
may be printed, without correction, in our new monthly publication under the name
of The Transactions of the Blavatsky
Lodge. This alone, the stenographer
and the printing - cost my theosophists nearly
£ 40 a month. . . . . . . . Since
your departure they have all gone mad here; they spend such a lot of money that
my hair stands on end. . . . . . . Don’t
you see, they have written a circular to all theosophists of all the wide
world; ‘H.P.B.’, they say, ‘is old and ill, H.P.B. won’t stay with us much
longer. Suppose H.P.B. died, then we
might whistle for it! There will be no
one to teach us manners and secret wisdom.
So let us raise a subscription
for the expenses, etc., etc . . . . . . .’ And so they have raised a subscription and
now spend money. And ‘H.P.B.’ sits with
holes in her elbows, sweating for everybody and teaching them. Needless to say, I won’t accept a penny for
this sort of teaching. ‘Your silver
perish with you, for that you thought to buy the grace of God for money’, I repeat to everyone who imagines
he can buy the divine wisdom of centuries for pounds and shillings.”
The following two letters show how very open Madame Blavatsky was to new
impressions, even in her old age. The first is from Fontainebleu, the second
from Jersey, where she was taken by Mrs. Candler in the summer of 1889, less than two years before her
death. Both are to Madame Fadeef.
“Delicious air, all impregnated with the resin of the pine forest and
warmed by the sun, to which I am exposed whole days, driving in the lovely park
- has revived me, has given me back my long lost strength. Just
fancy, several theosophists came yesterday from London to see me, and so
we all went to see the castle. Out of the fifty-eight state rooms of the palace I
have done forty-five with my own,
unborrowed legs!! It is more than
five years since I have walked so much!
I have ascended the entrance steps, from which Napoleon I took leave of
his guardsmen; I have examined the appartments of poor Marie Antoinette, her
bedroom and the pillows on which rested her doomed head; I have seen the dancing hall, gallerie de François I, and the rooms
of the “young ladies” Gabrielle d’Estrée and Diane de
Poitiers, and the rooms of Madame de Maintenon
herself, and the satin cradle of le
petit roi de Rome all eaten up by
moths, and lots of other things. The
Gobelins, the Sèvres china and some of
the pictures are perfect marvels! . . .
. . . . I have also put my fingers on
the table on which the great Napoleon signed his resignation. But best of all I liked the pictures
embroidered with silk par le demoiselles
de St. Cyr for Madame de
Maintenon. I am awfully proud of having
walked all around the palace all by myself.
Think of it, since your stay in Würsburg I have nearly lost my legs; and
now, you see, I can walk all right. . .
. . . . . But what trees in this doyen
des forêts! I shall never forget
this lovely forest. Gigantic oaks and
Scotch firs, and all of them bearing historical names. Here one sees oaks of Molière, of Richelieu,
of Montesquieu, of Mazarin, of Béranger.
Also an oak of Henri III, and two
huge seven hundred year old trees des
deux frères Faramonds. I have simply
lived in the forest during whole days. They took me there in a bath-chair or
drove me in a landau. It is so lovely
here, I did not feel any desire to go to see the Exhibition. . . . . . . .”
Then from Jersey:
“Well, my old comrade, I have seized a short little minute in the
interval of work, which is simply smothering me after my inertia and laziness
at Fontainebleau, and write to you in bed, in
spite of being perfectly well. The doctor has put me there for
precaution’s sake, as lately my knees
have been aching a little. I have been
brought here by Mrs. Ida Candler, an American friend, so that I might get some
sea air. The house is quite close to the
shore, yellow sand begins right from the
steps. . . . . . On three sides the house is drowsed in trees and flowers. Camelias and roses, as if we were in
Italy! . . . . . A lovely island and so curious.
They have a government of their own here, England being acknowledged only nominally,
mostly for the sake of pompousness. They
issue their own coins and keep to their own ancient Norman laws. For instance, in case some person wants to
catch a thief in his garden or simply box somebody’s ears, he must shout,
before he proceeds to do so: ‘Haro! Oh,
Rollo, mon prince et mon seigneur!’ Otherwise he
will catch it himself. This
‘Rollo’ is the first of the Norman princes, father of Robert the Devil, a giant
and a hero, who took the island from the Druids. The inhabitants speak a funny kind of French;
but they are awfully offended if anyone says they are French or English. ‘I am
a Jerseyman, and no one else’, they say. . . . . . .”
NOTES:
[1] Copyright, 1895.
[2] A Russian
equivalent for “a bee in the bonnet”. (W.Q.J.)
[3] Kushma
Proatkoff is the author of very amusing
parodies of philosophic aphorisms, of which H.P.B. was very fond. (W.Q.J.)
000
On the role of the esoteric movement in the
ethical awakening of mankind during the 21st century, see the book “The Fire
and Light of Theosophical Literature”, by Carlos Cardoso Aveline.
Published in 2013 by The Aquarian Theosophist, the volume has 255 pages and can be
obtained through Amazon Books.
000
