Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Gerald Yorke

 

 

 

Hotel Royal Condé

10 Rue de Condé

Paris

 

 

die [Saturday]

15-7-28 e.v. [15 July 1928]

 

 

Care Frater V∴I∴

 

93.

 

Yours of 13th came as a great relief.

     

Do I really have megalomania? If you only knew how I kick myself for my utter brainlessness and lack of moral virtue. I can't even manage to learn German! My claim, if it interests anyone, to be a Magus is a matter of record and of history. It means nothing, and matters nothing, except to the authorities of the Order, down to 7º=4o at present.

     

Of course, please always use you individual judgment. Only, suspend it unless adequately informed.

     

As to Magick [Magick in Theory and Practice], you have been letting people see MSS, and asking opinions all around, and letting them sap your Will. Try this method with any proposal such as "Shall I wear my dark blue suit to lunch?" and see how doubt creeps in.

     

The Home Office. There is nothing against me. I know this for a positive fact. It is merely cowardly persecution. Rather queer, their methods being shewn up so prettily these last few months. Perhaps we have a man on the job. Who knows?

     

Anyhow, Jix[1] is a frenzied Evangelical, and one can't expect him to like me.

     

I am sure they would not dare to try to suppress the book by any open action. A big trial would be the dawn of Sun on Austerlitz for us!

     

You should never have let a press typescript out of your hands. Oh my poor nerves! Please send it to me, with all possible precaution against loss, as soon as you get this letter. Also T & S estimate. I will send to press to them, or to a man here, on Sept 23.

     

Pickfords. Dicken's remarks are not relative to the matter at all. More of this on Saturday. I've an expert here.

     

Investments. I don't want to influence your judgment: but please act passively as between principals. There are some very firm prospects here. I have a press agent for one thing. You'll meet him on Saturday.

     

I quite understand your headache. Saturn - your [illegible] moon accounts for your . . .

 

93     93/93.

 

Fraternally,

 

666.

 

 

1—[Home Secretary, William Joynson-Hicks, 1st Viscount Brentford.]

 

 

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