A few days ago a Hindoo was thrown into jail for preaching Buddhism at the Ocean Grove
Camp-Meetings. “The Aryan Theosophical Society of New York” has been
expounding and disseminating the gospel of Buddha here for nearly ten years with quiet and
unimpeded persistency. It was William Q. Judge, President of this society and editor
of the Path, the organ of Theosophy in America, that went to the rescue of the
aggressive Hindoo Sattay and secured his release. Local interest is thus revived in
a movement strangely at variance alike with conventional Christianity and with
nineteenth-century materialism.
In other cities, also, Theosophy has recently achieved sensational notoriety. In
Washington, Prof. Elliott Coues, one of the foremost scientists of the Smithsonian
Institution, astonished his friends and the public by declaring his complete acceptance of
the ideas and tenets of Theosophy. In Boston the wife of a prominent literary man,
herself a woman of rare intellectual gifts and great social influence, became insane
through studying Theosophy. In Cincinnati a lady of wealth and position is
worshipped by hundreds and pretends to have reached the highest state of psychological
development in deification and, like Alexander, claims divide honors while still in the
flesh.
In less than ten years after the organization of the parent society in New York branch
societies have been formed in Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, Cincinnati, St. Louis, and
San Francisco, aggregating a membership of nearly 5,000 --- all enthusiastic to the point
of fanaticism. Within the same period the movement has become actively prominent in
London, Paris and other European capitals. Western disciples of this religion
transplanted from the Orient have written books discussing it in a way that has challenged
the attention of profound religious and scientific scholars. In fact, the rapid
headway made by this religion of marvels is fully as marvellous as any other feature of
it.
Whatever may be thought of the claims to serious consideration of modern Theosophy and
its credulous adherents, the founder, organizer and inspirer of the movement is certainly
a remarkable woman. Mme. Blavatsky came to New York about ten years ago unheralded
and unknown. She was said to be a Russian Countess in her own right, the widow of a
General whose services in the Russian army had won him fame and a place on the personal
staff of the Czar. In appearance, Mme. Blavatsky, though not at all handsome in the
common acceptance of the term, was exceedingly impressive and interesting. Tall and
stoutly built, she carried herself with queenly dignity. Her head is large, and
under a broad, intellectual brow shone a pair of large, luminous blue eyes whose strange
spiritual expression fascinated all who came within her influence. Like
Bulwer’s mysterious Zanoni, her age was uncertain. She might have been under
forty; with the physical vigor and elasticity of youth she possessed the mental maturity
of age. She had not been in New York long before she gathered about her a curiously
mixed set of literary and artistic Bohemians, visionaries, cranks and an occasional
practical thinker from Wall street or the colleges. At that time Spiritualism was
the rage in New York. Flint’s teapot trick had not been exposed, Charles Foster
was astonishing the town and Henry Kiddle was writing his book. Looking upon Mme.
Blavatsky as a valuable ally, the Spiritualists at first welcomed her with open arms; but
their joy was short-lived. One evening, at the close of one of Flint’s seances
during which the usual fol-de-rol manifestations of knocks and musical instruments played
by unseen hands, writings, &c., had been gone through, a companion asked her opinion
of it all. She replied that it was all very wonderful, perhaps, but that if the
company would accompany her to her rooms she would repeat the whole performance without
turning down the gas. Several of those present, including Col. H. S. Olcott, who had
gained much notoriety in Spiritualist circles by his defense of the Fox sisters, politely
expressed incredulity.
“Come along and see,” said Madame. And they went. Upon reaching
her apartments in Thirty-seventh street, near Eighth avenue, sure enough Mme. Blavatsky
repeated all Flint’s wonders with seeming ease, and in the full glare of
gaslight. The mediums and their followers never forgave her expose of their
humbuggery. She explicitly disavowed any belief in Spiritualism in the common sense
or any claims to mediumistic powers. “It is my own spirit and not the spirits
of those who have gone from earth,” she declared, “that does these things.
Whatever powers I possess are simply the result of the complete power over my will that I
have acquired.”
It was in these rooms, afterwards familiarly known as “The Lamasery” (the
name given a Bhuddist convent in Thibet), that a brilliant crowd of Bohemians were wont to
gather of an evening to drink tea from Madame’s samovar and indulge in “a feast
of reason and a flow of soul.” The hostess proved herself a conversationalist
of rare magnetic power, and no one ever tired of listening to her fascinating recital of
experiences in many lands, her views on life and art, or her exposition of the occultism
of the East. She was an accomplished linguist, as most Russians are; and she not
only spoke French, German, Italian, Spanish, Russian, Hindostanee and several Arabic
dialects with east and fluency, but displayed a deep knowledge of the ancient and modern
literature of all countries. She was familiar with German and French philosophy, and
commenting upon the work of the great thinkers expressed many ideas of striking force and
originality. Occasionally she entertained her guests with music, and her piano
playing was pronounced emphatically that of a great musician.
Among those who were to be seen at these gatherings were Prof. Weiss, of the New York
University; Thomas A. Edison, A. L. Rawson, the painter; Prof. Wilder, the genial and
lamented Sam Ward, poet, philosopher, lobbyist and bon vivant; his chere ami,
William Henry Huribert, then editor of THE WORLD;
the Earl of Dunraven, whose father wrote a monumental book on Spiritualism, and who is now
Lord Salisbury’s Under-Secretary for the Colonies; David A. Curtis, of the Herald;
Edward P. Mitchell, then, as now, exploiting his brilliant imagination in the Sun’s
columns; Albert Bierstadt, the artist; Charles Sotheran, mystic and bibliophile; Linda and
Eda Diez, the actresses; A. M. Palmer, the manager; Edwin Booth, John Russell Young;
William Stuart, then manager of the Old Park Theatre; Edward Donavan, the artist, and a
host of other choice spirits, including on several occasions the Earl of Dufferin, whose
present position as Viceroy of India affords him opportunities to continue his studies of
Oriental religion in its ancient home, and Laurence Oliphant, whose social satires in Blackwood
and whose scheme for the Jewish colonization of Palestine have given him a prominence
distasteful to his native modesty.
At this time Mme. Blavatsky’s great life work, “Isis Unveiled,” was on
the press, and many curious stories of her alleged remarkable powers are told.
One day Mr. J. W. Bouton, her publisher, called, and fancying from something that was
said that the author was in need of money, delicately offered to advance a sum on the
book.
“Money!” exclaimed Mme. Blavatsky, laughing; “I’m never troubled
about money. I toil not, neither do I spin for material needs, yet I am always
provided. Now I think of it, I have several little bills to pay. Will you
kindly see if there is any money in the top drawer of my writing-desk while I pour you
some tea?”
Mr. Bouton opened the drawer indicated, which was in a desk at the other end of the
room. It was quiet empty. He made sure of that and, closing the drawer,
declared the fact.
“Ah,” said madame, nonchalantly, “I want $500. Open the drawer
again, if you please.”
Mr. Bouton did so, and started back amazed. Where but an instant before was
emptiness, five good, crisp hundred dollar bills met his astonished gaze.
“That is my Fortunatus purse,” explained the fair Russian, handing her
visitor a cup of tea and receiving the money from his hands. “Whenever I want
money it is placed there conveniently and safely to my hands.”
A lady living in West Thirty-first street, possessed of a considerable fortune and well
known in New York society, who spent much time with Mme. Blavatsky, in those days, and who
is still active in the Theosophical organization, avers that she saw the seer produce
instantly, by simply laying her hand on a sheet of paper, an excellent photograph of a
relative of this lady whom madame had never seen and who was then in a distant city.
Mr. Rawson, the artist above mentioned, aided Gen. Cesnola greatly in his explorations
of Cyprus. His archaeological acquirements gained him the warm personal friendship
of Pope Pius IX., and by special favor of the Pontiff he was allowed, under surveillance,
to examine some books in the secret chambers of the Vatican Library absolutely forbidden
to everybody but the Papal Secretary and members of the Sacred College of Cardinals.
Even these were not privileged to copy a line. Yet Mr. Rawson affirmed that several
pages of extracts from these secret books are given verbatim in “Isis
Unveiled.” Clairvoyance is the only explanation vouchsafed for the
accomplishment of this seeming impossibility. A like explanation is given of her
thorough knowledge of Freemasonry. She astonished thirty-third-degree Master Masons
by her knowledge not only of all the ordinary grips, signs and passwords, but of the inner
mysteries revealed only to the most advanced members of the craft. An old Freemason
once complimented her on this knowledge as a convincing test of her clairvoyant powers.
“It is not clairvoyance,” she rejoined earnestly. “I am as genuine
a Mason as you are.”
“But women are not admitted to the mysteries,” said the incredulous man.
“Not now,” rejoined the mysterious woman, “but they were formerly.”
“I must look up the matter,” said my friend humbly. He did look it up
and found that though it was an accepted tradition that priestesses of the Temple of the
Sun in ancient Egypt were initiated into the Masonic order, there was no record of the
admission of a woman within the sacred circle during the last 2,000 years. As he was
too gallant to utter a reflection on either the age or the veracity of the lady he did not
mention the matter again. Sam Ward, himself a Mason of high degree, frankly accepted
the idea that, like Zanoni, madame was at least 3,000 years old and had discovered the
secret of eternal youth.
More than one of Mme. Blavatsky’s former associates in New York assert that the
lady has repeatedly demonstrated her power of “projecting her astral body beyond the
bounds of flesh,” as Prof. Coues claims to do. Her appearances and
disappearances were as sudden and mysterious as those of the weird adept, Ram Lal, in
Marion Crawford’s story of “Mr. Isaacs.” In fact, if all that is
reported be true, this Theosophist priestess might well controvert Sir Boyle Roche’s
famous aphorism that “a man cannot be in two places at once, barrin’ he was a
bird.” Mme. Blavatsky claimed to be able to be in two or more places at once
when she so desired. When she announced that she was about to go to India to spread
the doctrines of Theosophy among the natives and foreigners there, a friend asked her why
she did not utilize her supernatural powers by continuing to give the infant Theosophical
Society of New York the aid of her presence and guidance, carrying out her mission in
India at the same time. To this she replied simply that she was commanded to leave
New York and that she bowed to the superior wisdom of the adepts.
These adepts, be it understood, are the highest order of Theosophists, who by long
years of fasting, study and meditation had attained an advanced state of spiritual
perfection. These men dwell principally in the mountains of Thibet, far from contact
with the world and mankind; sometimes in small communities, oftener as hermits in
solitude. Dwelling entirely away from railroads, telegraphs and newspapers, they are
said to possess a direct knowledge of everything of moment that goes on in the world and
to be able to communicate their thoughts or to convey their persons instantaneously to any
quarter of the globe. Astrology is a favorite study of the Theosophists, and those
who have devoted themselves sufficient to this “science” (popularly supposed to
have been exploded centuries ago) are said to forecast individual destinies and events
with marvellous exactness. Far from being an ascetic, Mme. Blavatsky when here
greatly enjoyed a good dinner washed down by good wine, and was much addicted to smoking
Turkish cigarettes of a peculiar and excellent quality.
In the discussions at the “Lamasery” already alluded to, Mme. Blavatsky
argued that Theosophy was but an extension of the theory of evolution taught by Spencer,
Huxley and Darwin, beyond its mere material phase. In universal evolution she held
that man’s higher nature --- the spiritual rather than the physical or intellectual
--- was developed. Among the proven possibilities of this development she counted
omniscience, omnipotence and omnipresence --- the qualities generally attributed by the
mass of mankind to the Deity it worships. The principal means to these grand
attainments, according to the Blavatsky theory, are a complete control of the will power
and the acquisition of divine knowledge. Theosophy (from the Greek Theos,
God, and sophos, wise) means wise in the things of God. Its mission is to
teach man to control and use his will power for the higher advancement of humanity.
This, stripped of mystic symbolism, Oriental phraseology and abstruse metaphysical
speculation, is the real essence and meaning of Theosophy.
Soon after Mme. Blavatsky’s departure, five years ago, she was followed by Col. H.
S. Olcott, Hierophant and President of the New York society. The sensation their
teachings produced will be remembered by newspaper readers of that day. Much of the
notoriety they then gained was due to the persistent efforts of the Rev. Joseph Cook, of
Boston, who followed Olcott and Blavatsky from place to place endeavoring to carry on a
controversy and valiantly abusing Buddhism and all its teachers. Olcott is still in
India, but Mme. Blavatsky is in Germany writing another book, which, as the result of her
advanced development in the East, will probably cause even a greater sensation than
“Isis Unveiled.” Gen. Abner Doubleday, who succeeded Olcott in the
Presidency of the New York society, retired about two years ago, and William Q. Judge, a
former law partner of Col. Olcott, took the helm. President Judge is a tall,
handsome, blond-bearded, blue-eyed and eager enthusiast. He speaks with ready and
impressive eloquence, has travelled in the East and read much of the literature of
Oriental religions. But even Theosophists are human. Personal jealousies
arose, petty scandals were whispered about and under the first year or so of Mr.
Judge’s regime there was a serious falling off both in the dignity and the membership
of the society. Its fortnightly meetings are held in an Odd-Fellows’ hall over
a beer saloon at 35 Union square, amid strangely incongruous surroundings.
At a recent meeting Mr. Bjeregaard, the learned and amiable Librarian of the Astor
Library, read a paper on Occultism to about a score of women and half a dozen men.
In the discussion which followed it was evident that the speaker had been very imperfectly
understood. An old outsider of cranky aspect got into a mathematical discussion with
an impetuous young Chela in gold-bowed spectacles. Another young man ruffled the
President’s temper in a discussion of the comparative morality of monogamy and
polygamy. An enthusiastic woman of “uncertain” age poured forth a
fearfully strange and complicated discourse on astrology, maintaining the floor against
all contestants until shut off by a motion to adjourn. In putting this motion the
President adroitly got in some vague and glittering generalities about universal
brotherhood, and the select gathering abandoned the warm and stuffy room for the fresher
atmosphere of the square.