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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Charles Stansfeld Jones
[Undated: circa late March 1917]
Beloved Son,
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Fra[ter] N.E. (?no monthly?)
The spelling is awful; he must copy the whole thing fair, preferably on machine, leaving 1/2 page always for comments. Half the value of the record is the comments of the Neophyte. And he must do it with a dictionary at his elbow, and use both.
As to your tea-party last spring, I can only say that the whole thing beats me. In the records people like Nem and Madge appear without the slightest indication as to who they may be, and what their past and present relations with the writer.
I am particularly anxious to get a complete and entirely intelligible record of this whole business. (When I underline words it is as if the Day of Judgment were come.)
I think you are right about the incidence of this affair having upset the Cloud-Snatcher's work.
You may (my beloved son) after about 50 years more experience come to the conclusion that valuable as women are in the work, it is better to do without them. The dull and boneless devotees of twat; Leave them to wallow; we are well a-wing!"[1] It appears to me that K. [Katherine Talbot] distributed the smell of her cunt (as Neuburg [Victor B. Neuburg] would say) with adorable impartiality; and that this was the principal cause of the general outburst.
I can't make a thing out of it. Is K. "Nem's" [Emily Talbot Smith] daughter? And how many people are in love with (a) her (b) R.S.J. [Rubina Stansfeld Jones]?
Now keep N.E. to his A∴A∴ work. Extend his probation 3 months, and tell him if he works hard daily, and turns in a fair copy, properly spelt, and edited as to be intelligible to a stranger—this is really vital—that you'll pass him.
I leave here in a day or so. Write me c/o Cook N.Y as before.
Love is the law, love under will.
Your [illegible] brother,
Θ
1—[from the Bagh-i-Muattar.]
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