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well-known genesis of the modern Christmas celebration, which of course descends from the Roman Saturnalia. 

    Then, making it clear he had not yet observed the Mirocaw festival and had only gathered its nature from various informants, he established that it too contained many, even more overt, elements of the Saturnalia. Next he made what seemed to me a trivial and purely linguistic observation, one that had less to do with his main course of argument than it did with the equally peripheral Poe epigraph. He briefly mentioned that an early sect of the Syrian Gnostics called themselves "Saturnians" and believed, among other religious heresies, that mankind was created by angels 

    who were in turn created by the Supreme Unknown. The angels, however, did not possess the power to make their creation an erect being and for a time he crawled upon 

    the earth like a worm. Eventually, the Creator remedied this grotesque state of affairs. At the time I supposed that 

    the symbolic correspondences of mankind's origins and ultimate condition being associated with worms, combined with a year-end festival recogrIizing the winter death of the earth, was the gist of this Thossian "insight," a poetic but Scientifically valueless observation. 

    Other observations he made on the Mirocaw festival were also strictly etic; in other words, they were based 

    on second-hand sources, hearsay testimony. Even at 

    that juncture, however, I felt Thoss knew more than 

    he disclosed; and, as I later discovered, he had indeed included information on certain aspects of Mirocaw suggesting he was already in possession of several keys which for the moment he was keeping securely in his own pocket. By then I myself possessed a most revealing morsel of knowledge. A note to the "Harlequin" article apprised the reader that the piece was only a fragment in rude form of a more wide-ranging work in preparation. This work 

    was never seen by the world. My former professor had not published anything since his withdrawal from academic circulation some twenty years ago. Now I suspected where he had gone. 

    For the man I had stopped on the streets of Mirocaw and from whom 1 tried to obtain directions, the man with the disconcertingly lethargic gaze, had very much resembled a superannuated version of Dr. Raymond Thoss. 

    3. 

    And now I have a confession to make. Despite my reasons for being enthusiastic about Mirocaw and its mysteries, especially its relationship to both Thoss and my own deepest concerns as a scholar-I contemplated the days ahead of me with no more than a feeling of frigid numbness and often with a sense of profound depression. 

    Yet I had no reason to be surprised at this emotional 

    state, which had little relevance to the outward events in my life but was determined by inward conditions that worked according to their own, quite enigmatic, seasons and cycles. For many years, at least since my university days, I have suffered from this dark malady, this recurrent despondency in which I would become buried when it came time for the earth to grow cold and bare and the skies heavy with shadows. Nevertheless, I pursued my plans, though somewhat mechanically, to visit Mirocaw during its festival days, for I superstitiously hoped that this activity might diminish the weight of my seasonal despair. In Mirocaw would be parades and parties and the opportunity to play the clown once again. 

    For weeks in advance I practiced my art, even perfecting a new feat of juggling magiC, which was my special forte 

    in foolery. I had my costumes cleaned, purchased fresh makeup, and was ready. I received permission from the university to cancel some of my classes prior to the holiday, 

    explaining the nature of my project and the necessity 

    of arriving in the town a few days before the festival began, in order to do some preliminary research, establish informants, and so on. Actually, my plan was to postpone any formal inquiry until after the