The Equinox (Volume I, Number X)

THE EQUINOX now and again. He then closed the volume with a snap, and said in a tone of infinite finality: “Inferentially inadequate data machicholated cerebrothoracically.” “ By jingo!” replied his father, “ but you're rr!” In this position there was only one weak point. There are people who understand the Integral Calculus, and there are people capable of disentangling words and sentences. Or rather, at that time, that was so. The art of darkening counsel was in its infancy. The future saint was predestined to change all that. Arthur were wise, therefore, to find, if possible, a science so abstruse and venerable that no one at all understood it, and whose most respected authors wrote in an indecipherable cryptogram. Such a science was found for little Arthur (the future saint!) in Alchemy. To establish a reputation was the work of a moment. To be “editor” of Paracelsus, Trithemius, Flamel, Eugenius Philalethes, Ripley, Starkey, Sendivogius, Basil Valentine, and a dozen others is a splendid position in the world of humane letters. To achieve this : obtain copies of their works, and forward carriage paid to a printer, with the remark— worthy of Julius Czesar at his tersest-—‘ Reprint !’ Would God it had stopped there! But (remember!) the future saint wasn’t wise, he was only “looking wise,” and he made a terrible mistake by accepting a few shillings—all too few !—to whitewash Dr. Wynn Westcott (and English Free- masons generally) in the Diana Vaughan affair. He corresponded with learned professors from Leipzig to Vladivostock; he bombarded Indian Lieutenant-Governors with long strings of questions: “ Did you ever know any one 212