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Correspondence from Aleister Crowley to Frederic Mellinger
"Netherwood", The Ridge, Hastings, Sussex.
15th July, 1947.
My beloved son,
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
I should have answered your letter of June 24th before now, but I have been overwhelmed with work and visitors that could not be put off, and illness due to bad weather, so that I don't know whether I am on my topsy or my turvy.
I am very glad that you are pleased with the little present: everyone seems to like it. You are one of only some three or four people that have had copies.
I am very glad that your work is making an impression on your colleagues and subordinates. Do not forget "without lust of result"!
Any time that you can spare a moment think of me, and remember that you can bring no greater happiness into my life than by dropping me a brief note: never mind whether there is anything to say or not.
I am very anxious indeed that you should keep in close touch with me, if only because I think it quite possible that after Frater Saturnus [Karl Germer] and myself have moved on into the next stage, you may find yourself saddled with the whole responsibility of carrying on the work of the Order. It is most important that you should have paid the greatest attention to practical experience of every side of the work, because whenever you become the supreme head of everything you will find that people write to you from everywhere and anywhere asking all sorts of the most impossible questions, and you have to answer them not merely with tact and discretion, but with detailed knowledge.
Please remember this above all things. . . . you never know at what moment you may find yourself in a position of supreme responsibility, and you must not shirk it or dodge it. I think that is all for this afternoon.
You have no idea what impossible things people ask me to do. The B.B.C. wanted something from "Olla"—I don't quite know why any more—and they have now sent it back because the man who originally wanted it has gone on sick leave, and 'will I please send the book again in November'. Well, I hardly know when November is any more! My gift for organisation is not my strongest point, as you are well aware, and I simply don't know what to do about this particular trouble. It seems to me that by the time November comes, I shall no longer remember who wrote originally about it, or what he wrote about it for. The only thing I can think of is to make a note in my diary for November 1st to send the book back to this man—whom I do not know personally at all—on that day. In other words, I am in the worst muddle than ever in my life before.
By the way, a man has just turned up who has been studying my books for some years, and has got quite advanced in more ways than one. His great drawback is that he doesn't seem to get the hang of the Astral Plane, so I have asked him to come back here the day after tomorrow and let me give him the sort of test that I gave you. I should like to hear, by the way, what the result, after all these months, of that test has been.
Love is the law, love under will.
Yours ever,
With a Father's Blessing in full measure,
666.
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