the chalk was intended to mark down her score when she played patience。 one saw in the next room a large table where every night her followers and guests; often a great number; sat down to their vegetarian meal; while she encouraged or mocked through the folding doors。 a great passionate nature; a sort of female dr。 johnson; impressive; i think; to every man or woman who had themselves any richness; she seemed impatient of the formalism; of the shrill abstract idealism of those about her; and this impatience broke out inrailing & many nicknames: o you are a flapdoodle; but then you are a theosophist and a brother。 the most devout and learned of all her followers said to me; h。p。b。 has just told me that there is another globe stuck on to this at the north pole; so that the earth has really a shape something like a dumb?bell。 i said; for i knew that her imagination contained all the folklore of the world; that must be some piece of eastern mythology。 o no it is not; he said; of that i am certain; and there must be something in it or she would not have said it。 her mockery was not kept for her followers alone; and her voice would bee harsh; and her mockery lose phantasy and humour; when she spoke of what seemed to her scientific materialism。 once i saw this antagonism; guided by some kind of telepathic divination; take a form of brutal phantasy。 i brought a very able dublin woman to see her and this woman had a brother; a physiologist whosereputation; though known to specialists alone; was european; and; because of this brother; a family pride in everything scientific and modern。 the dublin woman scarcely opened her mouth the whole evening and her name was certainly unknown to madame blavatsky; yet i saw at once in that wrinkled old face bent over the cards; and the only time i ever saw it there; a personal hostility; the dislike of one woman for another。
madame blavatsky seemed to bundle herself up; being all primeval peasant; and began plaining of her ailments; more especially of her bad leg。 but of late her master??her old jew; her ahasuerus; cured it; or set it on the way to be cured。 i was sitting here in my chair; she said; when the master came in and brought something with him which he put over my knee; something warm which enclosed my knee??it was a live dog which he had cut open。 i recognised a cure used sometimes in mediaeval medicine。 she had two masters; and their portraits; ideal indian heads; painted by some most inpetent artist; stood upon either side of the folding doors。 one night; when talk was impersonal and general; i sat gazing through the folding doors into the dimly lighted dining?room beyond。 i noticed a curious red light shining upon a picture and got up to see where the red light came from。 it was the picture of an indian and as i came near it slowly vanished。 when i returned to my seat; madame blavatsky said; what did you see? a picture; i said。 tell it to go away。 it is already gone。 so much the better; she said; i was afraid it was medium ship but it is only clairvoyance。
what is the difference? if it had been medium ship; it would have stayed in spite of you。 beware of medium ship; it is a kind of madness; i know; for i have been through it。
i found her almost always full of gaiety that; unlike the occasional joking of those about her; was illogical and incalculable and yet always kindly and tolerant。 i had called one evening to find her absent; but expected every moment。 she had been somewhere at the seaside for her health and arrived with a little suite of followers。 she sat down at once in her big chair; and began unfolding a brown paper parcel; while all looked on full of curiosity。 it contained a large family bible。 this is a present for my maid; she said。 what! a bible and not even anointed! said some shocked voice。 well my children; was the answer; what is the good of giving lemons to those who want oranges? when i first began to frequent her house; as i soon did very constantly; i noticed a handsome clever woman of the world there; who seemed certainly very much out of place; penitent though she thought herself。 presently there was much scandal and gossip; for the penitent was plainly entangled with two young men; who were expected to grow into ascetic sages。 the scandal was so great that madame blavatsky had to call the penitent before her and to speak after this fashion; we think that it is necessary to crush the animal nature; you should live in chastity in act and thought。 initiation is granted only to those who are entirely chaste; and so to run on for some time。 however; after some minutes in that vehement style; the penitent standing crushed and shamed before her; she had wound up; i cannot permit you more than one。 she was quite sincere; but thought that nothing mattered but what happened in the mind; and that if we could not master the mind; our actions were of little importance。 one young man filled her with exasperation; for she thought that his settled gloom came from his chastity。 i had known him in dublin; where he had been accustomed to interrupt long periods of asceticism; in which he would eat vegetables and drink water; with brief outbreaks of what he considered the devil。 after an outbreak he would for a few hours dazzle the imagination of the members of the local theosophical society with poetical rhapsodies about harlots and street lamps; and then sink into weeks of melancholy。 a fellow theosophist once found him hanging from the window pole; but cut him down in the nick of time。 i said to the man who cut him down; what did you say to one another? he said; we spent the night telling ic stories and laughing a great deal。 this man; torn between sensuality and visionary ambition; was now the most devout of all; and told me that in the middle of the night he could often hear the ringing of the little astral bell whereby madame blavatskys master called her attention; and that; although it was a low silvery sound it made the whole house shake。 another night i found him waiting in the hall to show in those who had the right of entrance on some night when the discussion was private; and as i passed he whispered into my ear; madame blavatsky is perhaps not a real woman at
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