I had not the felicity of knowing Madame Blavatsky so intimately and familiarly as I would have liked, nevertheless I beg to add my tribute to the memory of that illustrious woman.
In 1878 or 1879 I called at the rooms occupied by Madame Blavatsky in West Forty-Seventh Street. She was holding an informal reception, many people being present. I was received with that charming cordiality which won every fair-minded and disinterested individual who approached this wonderfully gifted woman. We chatted for a few moments when she greeted me, and then walked slowly to one of the windows, lingering there together for a moment or two, when she left me to give her attention to other guests.
I remained alone in this window for perhaps fifteen minutes. I was fully conscious of the assembly, conscious of the hum of conversation, the sound of gentle mirth fell upon my ears, the coming and going of the people were plainly perceptible to my senses, all the incidents of time, place, and circumstances were palpably apparent, real, and in every respect in conformity with the receptions held by any hostess who dispenses hospitality; all the routine of life in the thoroughfares without passed before my eyes in the usual manner, and yet — I knew that "I" stood upon the margin of a stream that flowed freely past where I stood; the ripple of the waters was continuous, soothing, and placid; grasses waved in unison with the murmur of the river: the under-current of insect life mingled with the sighing of the wind: birds twittered and fluttered in the luxuriant foliage; all the voices of nature blended in a harmonious melody that seemed the very soul of silence breathing through a musical cadence that was attuned to sacred themes. All appeared familiar to "myself", and I enjoyed the sensations produced precisely as any individual enjoys any naturally pleasurable sensation. How long my consciousness of this "Soul Sense" continued I know not, possibly fifteen minutes.
Madame returned, smiling, to my side, and I greeted her with "What is it?" She simply replied, in the most matter of fact manner, "That is sacred music. You are on the banks of the Ganges."
While I am of Anglo-Indian origin, my grandmother having been a Hindu, Madame Blavatsky had not been advised of that fact, and I am fully convinced that I was not hypnotized. I attribute the circumstance to her intuitive knowledge of those with whom she came in contact, although I do not doubt that the Indian blood in my composition made me more en rapport with her than I might otherwise have been.
We had a short, pleasant conversation, and she told me, among other things, that I would return to my own. I have become a member of the Theosophical Society, and have indeed returned to my own, as Madame Blavatsky predicted I would; for no sooner had I read the philosophy of the Theosophical doctrine than I recognized that it was what I had believed all my conscious life.
Whenever I visited New York City I sought Madame Blavatsky and found a new charm in each visit. I could not fail to see and appreciate the extraordinary character which she possessed and I believe her to have been thoroughly in earnest, thoroughly honest, unwaveringly truthful, single-minded, clean of heart, high souled, and of spotless purity.