Nor did we begin the correspondence upon this subject. It was Mr. Sinnett who of his own motion addressed to a "Brother" two long letters, even before Mad. B. had obtained either permission or promise from any of us to answer him, or knew to whom of us to deliver his letter. Her own chief having refused point blank to correspond, it was to me that she applied. Moved by regard for her, I consented, even telling her she might give you all my Thibetan mystic name, and — I answered our friend's letter. Then came yours — as unexpectedly. You did not even know my name! But your first letter was so sincere, its spirit so promising, the possibilities it opened for doing general good seemed so great, that if I did not shout Eureka after reading it, and throw my Diogenes' lantern into the bushes at once, it was only because I knew too well human and — you must excuse me — Western nature. Unable, nevertheless, to undervalue the importance of this letter I carried it to our venerable Chief. All I could obtain from Him, though, was the permission to temporarily correspond, and let you speak your whole mind, before giving any definite promise. We are not gods, and even they, our chiefs — they hope. Human nature is unfathomable, and yours is, perhaps, more intensely so than any other man I know of. Your last favour was certainly if not quite a world of revelation, at least, a very profitable addition to my store of observation of the Western character, especially that of the modern, highly intellectual Anglo-Saxon. But it would be a revelation, indeed, to Mad. B. who did not see it, (and for various reasons had better not) for it might knock off much of her presumption and faith in her own powers of observation.
I might prove to her among other things that she was as much mistaken in relation to Mr. Sinnett's attitude in this matter as your own; and — that I, who had never had the privilege of your personal acquaintance as she had, knew you far better than she did. I had positively foretold to her your letter. Rather than have no Society at all, she was willing to have it upon any terms at first, and then take her chances afterwards. I had warned her that you were not a man to submit to any conditions but your own; or even take one step towards the foundation of an organization — however noble and great — unless you received first such proofs as we generally give but to those who, by a trial of years have proved themselves thoroughly trustworthy. She rebelled against the notion and assured [me] that were I but to give you one unimpeachable test of occult powers you would be satisfied, whereas Mr. Sinnett never would. And now, that both of you have had such proofs what are the results? While Mr. Sinnett believes — and will never repent of it, you have allowed your mind to become gradually filled with odious doubts and most insulting suspicions. If you will kindly remember my first short note from Jhelum you will see to what I then referred in saying that you would find your mind poisoned. You misunderstood me then as you have ever since; for in it, I did not refer to C. Olcott's letter in the Bombay Gazette but to your own state of mind. Was I wrong? You not only doubt the "brooch phenomenon" — you positively disbelieve it. You say to Mad. B. that she may be one of those who believe that bad means are justified by good ends and — instead of crushing her with all the scorn such an action is sure to awaken in a man of your high principles — you assure her of your unalterable friendship. Even your letter to me is full of the same suspicious spirit, and that which you would never forgive in yourself — the crime of deception — you try to make yourself believe you can forgive in another person. My dear Sir, these are strange contradictions! Having favoured me with such a series of priceless moral reflexions, advice, and truly noble sentiments, you may perhaps, allow me in my turn to give you the ideas of a humble apostle of Truth, an obscure Hindu, upon that point. As man is a creature born with a free will and endowed with reason, whence spring all his notions of right and wrong, he does not per se represent any definite moral ideal. The conception of morality in general relates first of all to the object or motive, and only then to the means or modes of action. Hence, if we do not and would never call a moral man him who, following the rule of a famous religious schemer uses bad means for a good object, how much less would we call him moral who uses seemingly good and noble means to achieve a decidedly wicked or contemptible object? And according to your logic, and once that you confess to such suspicions, Mad. B. would have to be placed in the first of these categories, and I in the second. For, while giving her to a certain extent the benefit of the doubt, with myself you use no such superfluous precautions, and you accuse me unequivocally of setting up a system of deceit. The argument used in my letter, in regard to "the approbation of the Home Government" you term as "such very low motives"; and you add to it the following crushing and direct accusation: "You do not want this Branch (the Anglo-Indian) for work. . . . You merely want it as a lure to your native brethren. You know it will be a sham, but it will look sufficiently like the real thing," etc., etc. This is a direct and positive accusation. I am shown guilty of the pursuit of a wicked, mean object through low and contemptible means, i.e., false pretences. . . .