|
Correspondence from George MacNie Cowie to Aleister Crowley
14 Glenisla Gardens, Edinburgh.
[Undated: circa September 1914?]
Care Frater.
It's difficult to get a letter written nowadays, or even hear myself think. I will have to used to quite a new order of things. I've just engaged a housekeeper as I can't get on very well alone, longer. A lovely houri of sixty, but she'll give me no trouble I imagine.
I have taken note of what you say regarding the real object of the O.T.O. By the 'Ship' you refer to the Noah's Ark chapter in the Canon the ark being for the preservation of the Body of Truth.
The question rises—might you not have given me some hint of this earlier? It would have made some difference, and make the privilege of helping seem greater—but doubtless you knew best when to time the communication.
There isn't much good in anticipating real or seeming evil, usually, but if permissible, you might give me a little idea as to the probable course of events, by way of being prepared for the eventualities or of foreseeing what to do. For instance, it seemed to me that I was merely helping you over a temporary crisis, at the cost of the ability to purchase what would enable me to 'retire' not too late in life if I chose, or to offer a home, perchance to someone I care for, if———But if ruin is coming for this country, not only were the latter things illusory, but my retirement might come about in an involuntary fashion. If that is to be, it is as well to be prepared to use it for my own and the general benefit, and to guard against it a bit.
The securities I hoped, were something solid to leave for my relations as well as to provide a few pounds yearly, certain, in case of misfortune, but I take your hint that they may become waste paper, so if I could get rid of them, I should feel freer now to add them to the common stock, the problem is how?
I wrote to my lawyer to see if he could suggest anything. No, private bargain is the only possibility. I wouldn't try the bank, except as a pis aller, it wasn't a pleasant or inexpensive game last time—and of course I want to get rid of the stuff not to pay 6 per cent on it for ever and ever. No that won't do at all. If it were not like begging I'd ask a very distant rich relation to purchase the stuff for £250, not as a bargain but by way of doing a good deed to humanity.
For the present—I have guaranteed £10 towards publication expenses and shall try to wipe out that obligation at the end of the present month. You can have it in small weekly sums if you like. But I do not know what claims there may be on me, and I could not guarantee the whole, as it will come out of my last months pay.
It wasn't a swellish funeral I was thinking about, but rather the leaving something easily accessible to my executors to pay debts and not embarrass them by having nothing herewith to pay the hundred odd expenses that always occur. Looks as if I may have to eat my 'funeral' yet. There's always the problem of my poor step-sister also, who is practically dead yet has to be maintained, and is healthier and stronger than ever. Fortunately her house is let, still, and that pays half her board.
Life is depressing at present, and my thoughts are of necessity concentrated on this dismal war business, and I concluded that one of the truest things you have written is that 'life is a horror, insane'.
I want to come up to London sometime, I can get relieved for a week or two in Oct I think if all goes well, so far—It feels silly to be VII degree and not know what the VI and VII are. I am not getting on, now, by meditation, and want knowledge as a lesser good. Do we may share a Sardanaplian banquet once more of boiled eggs in the Studio. Again the table set for Baal and Baphomet? We don't seem to have heard anything of Wegg lately.
I expect you will be furiously busy, so I won't expect an answer.
|