No specimens were there given of the writing which Madame called Mahatma M’s: there were but a few scraps of it available.
When, therefore, Mr. William Q. Judge conjured a letter from him (I use “conjure” in its old-fashioned sense, of course), it was not possible for Mrs. Besant to compare it with any published specimens of the same script (with private specimens I fancy she had never been favoured), even if the extremely scanty and hurried nature of the message, and the temper of Mrs. Besant’s mind had not in themselves forbidden any such partial measure of verification.
It is true that a few months later Mrs. Besant felt able to affirm with the utmost confidence (as we have seen) that the handwriting was “the same as that which Madame Blavatsky was accused of producing,” and this at first sight appears to refer to the “K.H.” script, which afforded the gravamen of Mr. Hodgson’s Report. In that case what Mrs. Besant asserted was that the writing was the same as that which was not even supposed to be by the same person.
Next morning, there was a meeting of the “Inner Group,” at which Mr. William Q. Judge at once took up that position of Senior Chela to which his services as postman of the Mahatmas so well entitled him. There is some oath or other of equality with fellow-members and of obedience to its head which members of this Esoteric Section have to take: Mr. Judge pointed out that it was quite unnecessary for him to take this oath.
THE “NOTE THE SEAL” MISSIVE.
To which end he produced not only a letter from Madame Blavatsky, but one from Mahatma M, which he had personally received in America, he said. Its contents he did not feel able to communicate to others who could not yet aspire to be on corresponding terms with the Great Unseen: what he did show was the signature and seal impression (which exactly resembled that “precipitated” in the cabinet overnight). He specially begged those present to take note of the seal; “for,” said Mr. Judge, “they might have need to recognise it on some future occasion.”
With eager eyes they all obeyed; each aspiring young chela fluttered with the hope (for Mrs. Besant had noised the cabinet business about, and it seemed to rain missives) that he too might soon be blest with one.
Mr. Judge is a man of some foresight. But that was not precisely what he had in his mind when he bade them note the seal.