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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Charles Stansfeld Jones
c/o Cooks
[Undated: circa late June 1917?]
My beloved Son,
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
I am to blame for not writing, but have not felt at all like it.
(Many happy returns of to-day, by the way!)
I have resigned in your favour, unofficially, to help Cowie [George MacNie Cowie] out. You write him and say you're [illegible] Master now, and to get on with Lodge work, damn his eyes! I made it unofficial so as to avoid all sorts of legal transfers; and if necessary, the incident need not count at all, if it appear advisable to ignore it.
I'm sorry if I've failed to answer questions; I've been too neuralgic to think at all, and I was expecting to see you. Really, little can be done unless we get together. Everything constructive looks so damned futile just now.
If I could get into a country cottage, it would all be different.
Love is the law, love under will.
Your father send Benedictions in the Highest,
Θ
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