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Correspondence from George MacNie Cowie to Aleister Crowley
14 Glenisla Gardens, Edinburgh.
Jan 25. [1915]
Care Frater
My last letter must have failed to cheer you up. For one thing I was quite certain you'd have the £600 by the time you got my letter and therefore be well enough cheered up. Next I wasn't pleased with you. Think of that and shudder. The fear of the [Note: what follows is a drawing of a camel, a serpent, and a camel] is the beginning of Wisdom. Who says there's nothing in the Qabalah? H N [in Hebrew]—Hun = Thief Robber Looter Brigand. So there you are. Remember that.
I got your letter on Sat 23rd, the other today Mon 25th. I looked up the American sailings. Thought it might be cheaper if Mater [Leila Waddell] went by Glasgow. But no actually a little dearer counting the rail fare, and only a day longer. The Old State line with slow boats of hoff. So I've written to her today to advise her to go by the Orduna [?] on Saturday (Cunarder) second cabin and rail from London will be £12. I won't have any cash till that same day. But the matter is desperate enough to make breaking into my last line of defence legitimate, it's almost to save one of us from starvation. Of course she could have come here for a bit, but it's much better for her to be with you. So I've told her to wire me tomorrow if she can be ready to sail on Saturday. Then I'll square the bank, book her berth and send her some cash to make matters easy. We'll just consider that the money comes out of the Boleskine rent and that I'm going to face the lawyers bill etc myself later. It's a risk of course, as I might find myself landed at any moment (out o' work) but for the present there seems no actual danger, and it may chance that if I do get on the rocks, you may by then be in a position to come to the rescue, so well chance it.
Poor mater had evidently had to pay dear for her—whistle and you've evidently been more worried than you let on, poor man. It doesn't seem fair. But I suppose the game has to be played.
I hope you'll be able to satisfy Clay [the printer] to some extent. Don't bother about me at present. I have no personal debts, am clear of taxes for a little, only I can't economise much in housekeeping nor find enough for . . .
[Note: At this point one or more pages of this letter are missing.]
APPENDIX IT IS.
Haven't heard from M.O.H. [Mother of Heaven—Leila Waddell] for a few days, so I don't know whether it's N[ew] Y[ork] for her or not as yet. Events have shown the wisdom of having a small last line. I've called out half of him to pay the fare to N.Y. and provide M[other] with pocket money. If I knew for certain she wasn't going I might let you have a few pounds, the trouble is that it would probably reach you when you were wallowing in dollars and I might cripple myself for no good.
The last line is only for a real emergency. Apart from that I will only have some £8 left this month. My pay was partly anticipated and expenses postponed that have now to be made good. I could keep M.O.H. going, out of that, allowing £1-1- for my book and 30/ for Hammond [Benjamin Charles Hammond] and 20/ for a pair of breeks. In two months there will be another quarter due from Boleskine and there should be some left this time after clearing the Studio rent. Accounts for repairs may not come on till June. Oh goodness I wish Jupiter would come on. It is a perpetual worry having so little ahead of me one and uncertainty about the immediate future. I mean that if thrown idle I wouldn't have the calm of mind to make the otherwise good use of leisure.
Med[itation] has not gone so well of late. I've been practically unwell all Jam: and a cough is no help to med: Still when things are favourable I get near the stage of being able to hold the mind blank and still. It's a strain however and liable to sudden breakdown.
Same gloomy news just now. What a hell the world seems just now, life a horror, insane. Let's get OUT. Cheer up! however, as I say to Mater.
Vale Frater, trying to post this to catch the mail.
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