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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Norman Mudd
March 22 '24 e.v.
C∴F∴
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
Your ghoulish mystery letter to hand. I shall return it unopened.
There can be no question which can shake my whole moral being. You seem to suggest that I may be asked to do something dishonourable. I won't consider the matter for a moment.
We agreed on my 'masterly inactivity' and your total responsibility. Stick to that. Get through the 2/3 ordeal, and you'll find it all right.
I'm not fit physically, in any case, to deal with anything critical. You did me great harm by worrying me about the Abbey. Also, I have paid with a shocking relapse of asthma—catarrh—etc for my Soliloquy of Henry VI, and the Word of the Equinox. I must go on as best I can, doing such work as I can without risking after collapse. You also must stick to your guns, and carry out the appointed task. Your first job is to get a job yourself (Don't forget billiard-table and Boleskine library. Borrow's and Watts should help you to dispose of table: they sold it to me for £90 (I think—or £80) in 1899.)
It an do no good to throw my off my base. If I can do anything to help, all right; let me know. But don't suggest my doing anything unworthy of my work. And make your demand simply without giving reasons. (And I can see no other meaning in your ghoulish mystery. Cut out that ghoulishness, by the way: that is the "boy-like abortion" complex).
Love is the law, love under will.
Fraternally
The Beast
666.
P.S. Act as if the Gods had everything firmly in hand—They have. Don't get rattled yourself and don't try to rattle me.
666.
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