Thus you will please tell Mr. A. R. Gebhard that we are two "frauds — " if any; and also this: Mahatma K.H. has received but never read his letter, for the simple reason that he was prevented by his promise to the Chohan never to read a letter from any theosophist until his return from his mission to China where he then was. This He condescended now to tell me to help to my justification, as he says. He had forbidden me most strictly to send him any more letters until further orders. Since Master at Arthur G.'s urgent prayer took it upon Himself for reasons best known to Himself, I had nothing to say but to obey. I took the letter and put it in a drawer full of papers. When I looked for it, I found it was gone, at least I did not see it, and said so to him. But before going to bed, taking out an envelope I found his letter still there, though in the morning it was really gone. Now if my remembrance is right I showed to Madame Gebhard Olcott's letter in which he speaks of what Master said. I had not read Gebhard's letter and may have taken the words as an answer to this letter. As it is I have not now the faintest recollection of the whole of the message. One thing I know and Madame Geb. will corroborate it; she spoke of the terrible quarrels between Arth. G. and his father to me in London, before going to Paris, and to Olcott repeatedly. She had expressed the hope that the Mahatma would interfere on her behalf, and these words may have related to this and not at all to the letter. How can I remember? Olcott may have heard imperfectly, or I muddled up the thing. Hundred combinations may have happened. The only fraud is, then, in my telling him an unconscious untruth about the letter going six hours later when it was taken only in the morning. To this I plead "guilty."
But as in the Hume "pearl-pin" affair there is something more implied than mere fraud in the production of phenomena. If I have bamboozled in this Mad. G. and himself then I become right away a black leg, a SWINDLER. I have received hospitality at their house for months; they have nursed me through out my sickness, and even not permitted [me] to pay the doctor, covered me with rich presents, honours and kindnesses, for all of which I repay with — DECEPTION. Oh powers of heaven, Truth and Justice! May Mr. Arthur Gebhard's Karma prove light to him. I forgive him for the sake of his mother and father whom I will love and respect to my last hour. Please give these my parting words to Mad. Gebhard; I have nothing more to say.
It is useless, Mr. Sinnett. The Theosophical Society shall live here, in India, for ever — it seems doomed in Europe, because I am doomed. It hangs on your Esoteric Buddhism and the Occult World. And if Mahatmas are myths, I — the author of all those letters, a proclaimed FRAUD and worse by the P.R.S. how can the London Lodge live? I told you — for I felt it, as I always feel that this investigation of Mr. Hodgson will be fatal. He is the most excellent, truthful, expert young man. But how can he recognise truth from lie when there is a thick net of conspiracy around him? At first, when he visited the Headquarters, and the padris could not well get hold of him, he seemed all right. His accounts were favourable. And then he was caught. We have our informants who followed the missionaries sharply. You, in England may laugh — we do not.
We know that the conspiracy is not one to laugh at. The 30,000 padris of India are all leagued against us. It is their last card they play — either they or we. There was 72,000 rupees collected in one week in Bombay — "to conduct the investigations against the so-called Founders of the T.S." All the Judges of the land (think of Sir C. Turner!) are against us. Sceptics and nominal Christians, free thinkers and C.S. snobs — my very name stinks in their nostrils. And now comes the old sleeping beauty again on the scene. I am, after all, A RUSSIAN SPY. Last night the Oakleys dined with Hume at the Garstins and were told very seriously that the Government was to over-shadow me once more; that they had information (the Coulombs?) and that I had "to be watched." Vainly did Hume laugh and the Oakleys protest. It was "very serious" in view of the Russians crossing Cabul, Afghanistan, or something of that sort.
An old and a dying woman, confined to her room; forbidden to mount a few steps lest her heart bursts; never reading a paper for fear of finding there the most vile personal abuse; receiving letters from Russia but from relatives — a spy, a dangerous character! Oh Britishers of India where is your valour?
Notwithstanding Hume, their friend Hodgson and all the evidence, the Oakleys do not believe me a fraud. They have full confidence in the Masters; nothing, they say, will make them doubt their existence and, apart [from] some little unpleasantness due to gossip upon private affairs, they are staunch theosophists and as they say my best friends. Well, and good. I believe O Lord, help thou my unbelief. How can I believe anyone my friend at such a moment? It is only he who knows, as he knows that he lives and breathes, that our Mahatmas exist and phenomena are real, who can sympathise with me, who do, and look upon me as a martyr. Pamphlets by Reverends, books and articles exposing me from top to foot appear every day. "Theosophy Unveiled — " "Madame Blavatsky Exposed — " "The Theosophical Humbug Before the World— " "Christ against Mahatmas" etc. etc.: you who knew India well, Mr. Sinnett, do you think it difficult to get false witnesses here? They have all the advantages over us. They (the enemies) work night and day, flooding the country with literature against us, and we sit motionless and only quarrel within the Theos: Headquarters. Olcott is held finally a fool, detested by the Oakleys (for some mistakes that really he could not help,) and adored by the Hindus. And now after the arrival of Hume I come for my share. Though my friends, the Oakleys, advise me to resign, the Hindus say they will all leave if I do. I must resign because being thought a "Russian spy" I endanger the Society. Such is my life during my convalescence when every emotion, says the doctor, may prove fatal. So much the better. I will then resign de facto. But then they forget that so far I am the only link between the Europeans and the Mahatmas. The Hindus do not care. Dozens of them are chelas, hundreds know Them, but as in the case of Subba Row they will sooner die than speak of their Masters. Hume could get nothing from Subba Row, though everyone knows what he is. The other night he received a long letter from my Master in the meeting room when Hume voted my resignation. They had just voted there should be no phenomena any more and Mahatmas never spoken about; the letter was in Telugu, they say. Though they stand by me and will stand to the last, they accuse me of having desecrated the Truth and the Masters by having been the means of the Occult World and Esoteric Buddhism. Do not count upon the Hindus, you of the L.L. I — dead, say Society good bye to the Masters. Say even now — all perhaps with one exception — for I have pledged my word to my Hindu Brothers, the occultists, never to mention except among ourselves Their names, and that I will keep it.
This will probably be my last letter to you, dear Mr. Sinnett. It took me a week nearly to write this one — I am so feeble; and then I do not think I will have an opportunity. I cannot tell you why: most probably, you will not regret it. You cannot remain faithful much longer, living as you do in the world. Myers and P.R.S. will laugh you to scorn. Hume, who goes to London in April will set all against the Mahatmas and me. It takes a different kind of men and women than you have in the L.L. with the exception of Miss Arundale and two or three others — to withstand such a persecution and storm. And all this because we have profaned Truth by giving it out indiscriminately — and forgot the motto of the true Occultist: To know, to dare, and to KEEP SILENT.