Thus the Pelasgianic language, that “most barbarous language” spoken by this mysterious people, what was it but Aryan; or rather, which of the Aryan languages could it have been?  Certainly it must have been a language with the same and even stronger Sanskrit roots in it than the Greek.  Let us bear in mind that the Aeolic was neither the language of Aeschylus, nor the Attic, nor even the old speech of Homer.  As the Oscan of the “barbarous” Sabines was not quite the Italian of Dante nor even the Latin of Virgil.  Or has the Indo-Aryan to come to the sad conclusion that the average Western Orientalist will rather incur the blame of ignorance when detected than admit the antiquity of the Vedic Sanskrit and the immense period which separated this comparatively rough and unpolished language, compared with the classical Sanskrit, and the palmy days of the “extinct Aryan tongue?” The Latium Antiquum of Pliny and the Aeolic of the Autochthones of Greece present the closest kinship, we are told.  They had a common ancestor—­the Pelasgian.  What, then, was the parent tongue of the latter unless it was the language “spoken at one time by all the nations of Europe—­before their separation?” In the absence of all proofs, it is unreasonable that the Rik-Brahmanas, the Mahabharata and every Nirukti should be treated as flippantly as they now are.  It is admitted that, however inferior to the classical Sanskrit of Panini, the language of the oldest portions of Rig Veda, notwithstanding the antiquity of its grammatical forms, is the same as that of the latest texts.  Every one sees—­cannot fail to see and to know—­that for a language so old and so perfect as the Sanskrit to have survived alone, among all languages, it must have had its cycles of perfection and its cycles of degeneration.  And, if one had any intuition, he might have seen that what they call a “dead language” being an anomaly, a useless thing in Nature, it would not have survived, even as a “dead” tongue, had it not its special purpose in the reign of immutable cyclic laws; and that Sanskrit, which came to be nearly lost to the world, is now slowly spreading in Europe, and will one day have the extension it had thousands upon thousands of years back—­that of a universal language.  The same as to the Greek and the Latin:  there will be a time when the Greek of Aeschylus (and more perfect still in its future form) will be spoken by all in Southern Europe, while Sanskrit will be resting in its periodical pralaya; and the Attic will be followed later by the Latin of Virgil.  Something ought to have whispered to us that there was also a time—­before the original Aryan settlers among the Dravidian and other aborigines, admitted within the fold of Brahmanical initiation, marred the purity of the sacred Sanskrita Bhasha—­when Sanskrit was spoken in all its unalloyed subsequent purity, and therefore must have had more than once its rise and fall.  The reason for it is simply this:  classical Sanskrit was only restored, if in some things perfected, by Panini.  Panini, Katyayana or Patanjali did not create it; it has existed throughout cycles, and will pass through other cycles still.